Caspara

Taking Five

2012-02-11T22:49:00.000-08:00

{The following is a brain-download of five random, not-necessarily-related things. It's just one of those days. Because sometimes it's just too hard to come up with one coherent blog post. You've been warned.}

1. So, wow, it's been a nice week having my hubby home again!! This might come as quite a shock to you, I know, but it's SO much easier to be a parent -- especially a parent to four -- when there are two of us. I mean, sure he's had to work and been jet-lagging like crazy, but it just feels different. For instance, going to sleep isn't so scary when I think I can send him to the phone when crazy drunk guys are trying to get in our house. Also, I discovered that jet-lag has its uses. Wyatt's had the sniffles this week and was having a hard time sleeping/ getting back to sleep. My wide-awake-at-3-a.m. husband said in a very chipper voice, "I'll take care of him, you go back to sleep." And I didn't argue. At. All.

2. Looking over my recent posts, I'm really embarrassed about the number of typos I've made. The problem is, I write at night, after everyone is in bed, when I really should be cleaning the kitchen or, and this is a really crazy thought, sleeping. I know. WHAT?! So. I'm going to try to start writing my posts earlier in the day. Yup. Starting... next year.
:-)

3. Pinterest. Love it or hate it? I mean, it's undeniably wonderful for organization and inspiration. But first off, there's that whole "invitation" thing. You look at it and think, Yeah, okay, this is good. I'll sign up. So you fill out the form, and get a response that, {paraphrasing a little} says, "Don't call us, we'll call you." And so you wait. And wait. And... wait... And finally when you've given up or forgotten about it, there's your "invitation." Kind of like, "Oh... lucky you, you get to join the Organization and Inspiration Club. Where all the cool people hang out." I don't know, it just seems kind of funny to me.

But, that being said, I do really like it. I mean, I needed another way to ~~waste my time~~ get organized and find great ideas. And, I found this recipe for cranberry-and-white-chocolate cookies. Oh my goodness. Matt calls them crack cookies. They are soooooooooooo addictively yummy. Which is bad. Or maybe good? See what I mean???

4. We got an elliptical! Inarguably good! Especially when crack cookies have been eaten!! We have this huge room upstairs that is kind of the hang-out room. That's where our t.v. is, my old easy-chair rocker that really needs upholstering, tons of kids' books, toys, and board games, the computer, the "man chair" (a.k.a. a not particularly attractive leather recliner that Matt bought when I was on a trip, but darn it, that thing is so comfortable!), and now... the elliptical. Jayna wishes our house looked more like a Pottery Barn catalogue (an idea I gave up on long ago), and doesn't like the idea of something so unattractive being in our hang-out room. But I think she realizes it kind of works here, because she said today, "Well, we finally found something that goes with the man-chair." I asked her what, and she said, "The elliptical." :-) So how about you? Do you keep exercise equipment around the house to pair with oddball pieces of furniture?

5. I really want to see The Vow. Last fall, I went with Matt to Rise of the Planet of the Apes. It was... *sigh*... *roll eyes*...all right... I mean, at least James Franco is in it. (though he is not nearly as cute as my husband!) I am just not a sci-fi girl. I try to be but I just can't! Which is weird considering the gigantic leaps my imagination can take when reading scientific things. (Worst of all is WebMD -- thanks, WebMD, for all the sleepless nights!) Anyway. He owes me a trip to a romantic movie, no matter how mushy. The problem is that a certain person who I won't name (but think "starts with a W") needs for a certain part of me, and he takes the whole "no false idols" things very literally. AND, the movie is not showing at the little cinema in town, so we'd have to go about 30 minutes from here. Matt suggested that we take said person with us, and if he starts to get loud, they'll just go have some guy time in the lobby.

I think this is a cop-out.

But I still might consider.

In the meantime, I think I'll read the book by the people the movie is actually based on, Kim and Krickett Carpenter. I love the idea of getting your spouse to fall in love with you again, something that I think should happen even if you aren't married to someone who woke up from a coma and forgot (s)he was married to you. Talk about inspiring... "pin it!" :-)

Hope you're having a great weekend! And keep in touch!

He's HOME!!!!

2012-02-06T22:48:00.000-08:00

Okay, first I need to apologize for my jeggings comment. I mean, I stand by my stand on them... if you could understand it! I re-read it today, and went, "WHAT?!?" Double, or possibly triple negatives? Anyway. What I was trying to say is this. I wear jeggings with long tops because they're so tight I don't really feel comfortable wearing ones that show my posterior. So if I'm wearing a long top, it doesn't matter (in my opinion) if they're "pull-on" jegs, or if they have a button and fly. Jeggings have been one of those difficult things for me to really... love. The first time I tried them on, I had Keep-It-Real Skyler with me in the dressing room. If for some reason you have tried jeggings yet, they can only be described as basically a lot of footless tights and little bit of jeans. So they take some "tugging" even if they "fit". As I hoisted and tugged, Skyler provided grunting sound effects ~~that I was trying not to make~~, then cheered me on -- "Come on, Mom! You can do it! Just a little further!" -- so that I was almost falling over from laughter and lack of being able to steady myself in something so ridiculously hard to put on. At long last, I buttoned them up and she proclaimed, "They look great, Mom!" but somehow, I just couldn't take her seriously. I think it was at least six more months before I bought my first pair.

Seriously, everyone should have a Skyler to go shopping with. She really... um... makes you think about your purchases.

Anwyay... I don't know about you, but we had a GREAT weekend. The weather was ridiculously wonderful. I don't mind the rain, but when the sun comes out and it isn't windy... oh happy, happy me! Saturday, the kids and I went to the park. The roller-bladed or "scooted" and had a little picnic snack in the bountiful sunshine and mid-50 degree temps. I walked for over an hour as they played, just listening to my favorite tunes, which is basically a mini-vacation for me. Then we came home for a real meal and naptime, and headed out to another, more scenic park. It was cooling off by then, but I took my new camera that I got at Christmas and snapped some really great photos.

I even got in front of the lens while Jayna practiced her photography skills!

And we did one of those goofy timer shots...

See what I mean, though? That background is real!! I can't believe I get to live here!

But even the great weather couldn't beat the best part of the weekend: MATT CAME HOME!! I had known it was a possibility for about a month, but you can never set your heart on something like this. Things tend to come up. He was actually a couple days later than what he'd originally told me, and that was hard to deal with. I just had to keep telling myself, At least it's still a month early! and think of all those who go so, so much longer with deployed spouses.

We saw his plane flying over the air field as we drove, and then he was getting off the plane just as we pulled into the parking lot of the air terminal. The girls were shouting, "There he is! There's Daddy!" and they ran inside through the crowded building with their eyes focused on just one guy. The hours since have been filled with a lot of catching up. A few months' worth of playing with the kids, and laughter, telling him all the stories we forgot to tell him on the phone, waking up to a hand around me and being so glad that I'm not dreaming.

If there's anything good about being apart it's that we've truly learned to value the time we get together. I finally let him out of my sight for an hour today to do some shopping at Target, as he ran some other errands. I saw his number pop up on my cell for the first time in three months, and I couldn't stop smiling.

"You ready to go?" he asked, and I said, "Yeah, I think so."

"Okay, I'll meet you out front. See you in a few."

"Sounds good," I told him. Sounds SO good! :-)

My Before and After Skirt

2012-02-02T22:51:00.000-08:00

I've mentioned before that I really don't like maternity jeans. And by two weeks post-partum, anything that could have loosely been called "charming" about them is gone. But sadly, at that point, regular jeans don't necessarily fit. Three months later -- where I am now -- they "fit" but not exactly in the same way that they used to. Still, looking at the my maternity jeans that are now in a translucent box in the garage makes me shudder a little, so I would be loathe to wear them without an actual baby in the "bump"!

So I'm loving anything that is not "maternity" but has elastic waists. Most of my elastic-/ drawstring-waisted clothing worked as well when I was pregnant as it did after. Things I wore throughout pregnancy and still wear now include jeggings from H&M* (*yes, I wear the pull-on jeggings, becuase I personally don't feel comfortable with something that tight not being worn with tops that don't cover the rear, and if I'm wearing long tops then why should it matter what the actual waist looks like? that's my opinion on it), and older versions of these drawstring cargos from Old Navy. And skirts. Lots and lots of skirts.

Yeah, I might have mentioned I love skirts here before. I decided to try my hand at making a knit maxi skirt this time, using this tutorial at Sew Much Ado. It was pretty straight-forward and not too hard (well, sewing a straight line is hard for me, so...). The only problem was that I didn't go by her length suggestions. Instead I went with a skirt from Old Navy that I thought was a little long, so I made it shorter... which was fine when it was pushed down really low on my hips. After I had Wyatt, though, and pulled it up to my actual waist, it's a little short. But that's my fault not hers.

So I'm pretty happy with it. I just used some knit fabric from Joann. Here's what it looked like before Wyatt

And here's what it looked like almost immediately after...

...and a little bit after that. Much better when accessorized with a baby.

:-)

What about you? If you're a mama, do you have any clothing favorites that worked well before and after birth?

Playing Catch-Up

2012-01-31T22:52:00.000-08:00

Sooooo... guess what? Raising four kids alone is very busy and kinda exhausting! What?! You aren't surprised?? Haha... I'm just trying to explain why I haven't blogged in almost two weeks, despite my best intentions. Don't get me wrong, there have been moments I could have stolen, but my brain was mainly producing static.

Of course, this is not to say that it's having particularly impressive thoughts at the moment, which is why this is a pretty un-cerebral post. ;-)

So to fill you in on what we've been doing... we endured a stomach flu striking two of my kiddos. That was no fun, but thankfully, (knock on wood) it was short-lived and not the most virulent. And also, I'm sure you're thankful to know I did not take any pictures of what I had to clean up.

Anyhoo.

We also did a birthday party for a certain sweet birthday girl.

It was pretty low-key, a little tea party with a few of her closest school friends. I got out my "nice China" teacups, and they thought that was pretty cool.

Wyatt made a friend!

And speaking of birthday parties, I got to go to one! At a skating rink!! Seriously, so fun!

Wyatt was my date, because (how cool is this?) this particular skating rink allows you to push a stroller around. It was so fun! Though I think way overstimulating to my little guy. I tried to swaddle him, and he wasn't making a peep, but when I got off the rink and took his blanket off, he had this dazed look and kept flailing his arms. Poor guy. Still, I think we'll try it again for a family date. The girls were jealous. :-)

We went to a party as well this past weekend. I think it may have been the highwater mark of fun for Lilly so far this year.

She was SO excited about it. Wyatt also had fun, especially when the famous Elissa was holding him!

And...we got SNOW!

LOTS of it!

And it turns out, our cul-de-sac is just the perfect long slope for the girls' saucers.

Over the course of the week, during which we were more or less house-bound, (or rather, cul-de-sac bound, because I knew I couldn't get my car out of the driveway) the girls discovered that... wait for it... snow is COLD! And they didn't actually want to play in it ALL day by the end of the week. And they thought Mama was so mean for the moments when, for the sake of everyone's sanity, she kicked them out of the house for less and less time each day and MADE them play in it. *sigh* I know, right? What is the world coming to?

So now February is upon us. We'll see what adventures this month brings! :-)

Sweet Surprises

2012-01-19T22:51:00.000-08:00

Wow... it's hard to believe but nine years ago (plus a few days), Skyler burst into my life. I say "burst" because that's just about how it went. I was in complete denial about the fact that my pregnancy was coming to an end. We were living in Spain, and Matt had just returned from his first long trip away, and it was right after Christmas. My baby shower was scheduled for the next day and my friend who was throwing it for me kept calling to ask how I was doing.

"Not a single contraction," I told her happily.

"Good," she said, every time she called. "That's great."

I was sitting at the piano that evening, though, playing while three-year-old Jayna sat next to me, and it felt like Skyler was dancing inside me. Honest. She would not stop moving! I laughed and said, "Feel this, Jayna. Baby Sister is dancing!" Jayna leaned against my big tummy as I played, and laughed. Then suddenly, I had that weird feeling... my water broke.

Oh. No. Suddenly, I realized I wasn't ready for her to come yet. I had so much I needed to do, so much I needed to improve as a mother! How could I have another one?

With Jayna, the nurse at the maternity ward had said to wait around at home for a while, which I totally expected with Skyler too. But when I called the hospital, I was told to "come right in. Now."

*sigh*

"But I don't even have my bag packed!" I told the nurse. I was planning to pack it after my shower, since my due date was still ten days away.

"It doesn't matter. You need to come in so we know if the cord has prolapsed."

*deeper sigh*

I haphazardly threw some random and mostly useless things in a bag and called the friend who was throwing my shower. Since it was after nine o'clock by then, her first words upon hearing my voice were, "Oh crap."

Upon arriving at the hospital, I was told that my water had indeed broken (duh, it's one of those unique feelings), the cord was fine, but I wasn't having "real" contractions. The doctor was called and I would be given pitocin in six hours if labor hadn't kicked in on its own.

I sat in the bed while Matt slept, listening to music and trying to ready myself for this baby. I cried thinking about how she wouldn't be inside me any more, how I wouldn't get to feel that "dancing".

I was planning to do labor naturally, but when the contractions started getting bad around 2 a.m., I had the nurse check me.

Worst Labor and Delivery Nurse EVER.

"You're only around five centimeters," she said. "You were at 2-3 when you came in four hours ago. It's going to be a while."

I panicked. There was no way I could keep on like I was for "a while"! I started begging for an epidural. But since it was a tiny Navy hospital, with one L&D nurse, and one anesthesiologist on call, but not actually *in* the hospital... well, that was a problem. Worst L&D Nurse EVER called the other two anesthesiologists and not the one on call.

"I can't keep doing this!" I gasped through a contraction.

"Well, sweetie," she said in a tone that dripped with condescension, "I'm not a genie in a bottle. I can't just make the anesthesiologist appear." BUT YOU COULD CALL THE RIGHT ONE!!!! But finally she did... and it took him much longer than the ten minutes it should have taken to get to the hospital from his house. By the time he came wheeling his little cart in, my doctor, who very wisely stepped between me and the anesthesiologist lest I throw anything at him, said, "If you want, I'll let him give you something. But I have to tell you, it's going to take two to three contractions for it to kick in."

"IN TWO TO THREE CONTRACTIONS," I yelled, "I WANT THIS BABY OUT!" Upon which, the anesthesiologist meekly wheeled his cart away...

And so... after planting my foot in the doctor's abdomen (bad move on my part)... I pushed, and there she was. Purple and crying before she was even all the way out. The doctor placed her in my arms, and she felt so alive and warm, moving, crying, telling how mad she was about all of this. Then comforted, quiet, sweet.

And to my surprise, I realized I was completely ready for her.

My sweet Skyler is full of the unexpected, yet deals with surprises with grace and ease. If there is something to laugh at, she definitely will -- with gusto -- but she has a tender heart, full of compassion. She can't be easily defined, nor contained, (like her wonderful hair!) but that's exactly why she's such a gift.

Snow Fun!

2012-01-10T16:25:00.000-08:00

We don't have the best luck with snow.

I've mentioned before how much my kiddos love the snow. But it always seems to be rather illusive, even when it shouldn't be. Three years ago, we left the day after Christmas for Vermont, to have a "snow-cation". We arrived in Burlington... and it was 50 degrees! The snow was melting! What?!?! This was Vermont, in December, people. The week before they'd had a record-breaking snow storm.

We told the kids not to worry, that it would probably snow the next day, but when we got up, the sun was shining, and the little white patches under trees were even smaller. We drove around, out to where there was reportedly a snow park, and there was nothing. We saw a little five-feet-square patch in someone's yard, and Skyler told us to ask the inhabitants of the home if we could play in their snow. (We didn't. But it lives in our memories as being just so pathetic.)

Then last year, we took our trip to the Smoky Mountains, hoping for snow. Once again: nada. Well, no, actually. In that case, we found some snow to play in when we drove, but it was melting.

And the further you go back in my history, the more you see this pattern. Where I go, there is no snow. Long ago, before I was a mommy, or wife, or even girlfriend, when I was just a little older than Skyler is now, my family was on vacation in India. We were living in Bangladesh at the time, and we'd met up with my cousins, who were living in Egypt at the time, to travel to (among other places) Pahalgam, Kashmir.

Now, in Bangladesh, there are basically two seasons: hot and rainy, and warmish-maybe-cool and less rainy. Never, ever, ever snow. I remember our thermometer hitting freezing once. So we wanted to see snow in a big way. So we were thrilled upon our arrival in the lush, green valley of Pahalgam to see snow on the surrounding hills. One day we decided to hike to the snow.

We were so excited. There was a complete snow frenzy that charged each of us kids with a special kind of energy, and nothing -- NOTHING -- could stop us. Not even when we looked across the valley and saw snow at what appeared to be a lower elevation. That just meant we were thisclose. We hiked further... and further... shooting dirty looks to the younger siblings who dared complain. "Just over that next crest!" became the dads' rallying cry.

The hill became steeper and steeper. It got to where we were climbing up an almost vertical incline, holding and stepping onto shrubs as we ascended because it was too steep to hike.

We got to the top... and there was nothing. The hill directly across the valley might as well have been the North Pole for all the snow, but there wasn't so much as a single flake of the white stuff on our side. After we stopped shaking (from the terror of our climb as much as the physical exertion) and caught our breath, my dad and uncle said, almost in unison, "Well, it's gotta be just a little further now." And all six of us kids shouted, "NO!"

Anyway, while my parents were here during the Christmas vacation, we decided to go on a little expedition to the snow. Things looked pretty bleak when we left. Temperatures were in the 50's here, and it started to rain as we drove. But the further we went, the more snow we found. And it was glorious!

And I realized, as we tumbled in the snow, as I heard the delighted shrieks of the girls, as we made snow angels and threw snowballs, that, contrary to my suspicions at the time, my dad and uncle weren't actually trying to kill us that day that we "hiked to the snow." But rather, there's something really wonderful about hearing your kids laughter, their happy shouts of "Snow! SNOW!!!!"

and the sad faces when you tell them it's time to go...

...that there's something wonderful about those moments when...

...by the grace of God...

... you can make one little snow dream come true! :-)

How was your Christmas vacation? :-)

If... Then...

2012-01-03T19:39:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

There's a general consensus among the people who know me best that if something crazy is going to happen, it will happen to me. Case in point: when I was twelve years old, I went on a hike near the boarding school I was attending in Malaysia. Near the end of the trail, there was a "bridge" made of old rusted poles tied together to make something that looked sort of like log that spanned a ravine. Everyone else I was with made it safely across, but I took two steps and slipped down the side of it, cutting and scraping the entire length of my left leg. I have a foot-long scar that serves as a reminder to me not to believe that just because something worked for everyone else, it will work for me.

Another case in point: my New Year's.

After being sorely mistaken in my younger, more foolish days, I have a firm conviction that years start best when I'm feeling well-rested. Nevertheless,I let my older daughters convince me that staying up till midnight to ring in the new year was a good plan, and so they played games with my parents and watched a movie and were quite proud of themselves when the clock struck midnight.

We hurried off to bed a few minutes later, but I lay awake for much longer than I wanted to, feeling apprehensive. I kept thinking of the worst moments of the year, like when the buyers of our house told us they didn't think they would be able to complete the purchase, or when I had a sharp pain in my side early in pregnancy and thought there was some serious trouble. Or when my father-in-law had bypass surgery, and when my dad had his heart attack.

But 2011 was a good year, all in all. I thought of the best moments, too -- the happy dance I did in the car after Matt and I deposited the check that came with the sale of our house, the moment I saw the sonogram report that said my son appeared to be very healthy, the words, "He's here, and he's perfect!" spoken by my mother.

There were some hard times, no doubt, but it ended with a healthy family that had grown by one sweet, precious boy, and plenty of love to go around. What will 2012 bring? I wondered, feeling a knot of fear in my stomach as I thought of all the Ifs. But finally exhaustion took over, and I fell asleep.

At about six, I woke up again. Wyatt was smacking his lips, which is his initial, polite way of saying he's hungry before he launches into a full "I'm starving!!" scream, so I picked him up to nurse and dozed again. I was just starting to dream when TimTam, my Aussie shepherd, started barking what we call his "bog boy bark," the kind he uses when he wants to sound appropriately scary. (Milo, the wiener dog, was also barking, but from the safety and comfort of Lilly's bed.)

I tried in vain to quiet him, then finally threw back the covers ready to tell him none too kindly to shut up about that stupid cat. But as soon as I could see the front door, I knew it wasn't a cat he was barking at. There against the frosted glass window was the hulking silhouette of... someone. My heart pounded. I padded closer to the door, as quietly as I could, while TimTam kept up his frenzy. There was a thump against the door and the knob jiggled. I flicked on the porch light and heard a man's voice, muttering unintelligibly.

I heard him hit the door again with his fist, and I did what any sensible thirty-three-year-old mother of four would do. I ~~bravely and calmly walked to the phone and dialed 9-1-1~~ raced up the stairs as fast as I could, threw open the guestroom door and stopped just short of jumping into my parents' bed.

"There's a man trying to get into the house!" I said, forgetting that my dad just had a heart attack a couple months ago. But he seemed to forget too because he sprang out of bed and ran down the stairs, me close behind telling him (stupidly) to be careful. The man was trying to get in the door again.

"What's the deal?" Dad asked through the closed door. The man mocked my dad, echoing his question and slurring the words. "What are you doing?" Dad asked, and again the man repeated his words.

"I'm calling the police," I said (Duh!), and (Finally!) went to the phone. Half the police department showed up. This guy was so drunk, he apparently thought he was at his mom's house. I heard the officer talking to him, then he knocked on my door and asked if I was (or knew) Beth Franklin, this man's mother. Uh... No.

Suffice to say, we were all wide awake then. Dad went out to get Starbucks, but I was already feeling jittery enough. I climbed back into bed to snuggle my babies and reflect on the incident. Though I don't think the man's intent was exactly malicious or evil, it was a frightening thing to see and hear a stranger trying to get into my house. The sight and sound of a man that I knew didn't belong there, trying to get in my front door, was one of those surreal heart-stopping moments, like a nightmare come true.

But it was also entirely clear that we were protected. The situation was resolved as quickly and smoothly as it could have been.

This past summer, just after moving here, I read Beth Moore's So Long Insecurity with my Bible study group. Even if you don't think you have an issue with insecurity, I highly recommend this book. In the second-to-last chapter, Beth relates a conversation she had with God where she mentally went through her absolute worst fears. She writes, "These days I far less often pray, 'Lord, I trust You to...' I simply try to say over and over again, 'Lord, I trust You. Period.'" Later she describes basically the exact situation I was having in the first moments of 2012. "When you feel that familiar panic begin to rise in your heart... with another round of 'What will I do if...?' what would happen if you were willing to hear the voice of God... Child, you are asking the wrong question. Here's the one that would assuage your fears: What will God do if..?"

Snuggling safely with my little ones around me Sunday morning, I tried out the words I need to say this year, even with all the Ifs in front of me. "Then... Lord, I trust You. Period."

Wrapping Up Christmas

2011-12-28T09:11:00.000-08:00

Well, hello again!!! It's been a while, I know! A crazy while... but I not only survived, I would say it's been a blessedly happy Christmas season! There were a few tears on Christmas Eve, but thanks to my parents being here, we got through them too, and there were plenty of smiles Christmas morning!

After twelve years of parenting, I finally got a picture of two of my children sitting on Santa's lap, and convincingly on The Nice List.

I think this illustrates one of the lessons of parenting, that usually it's when you stop caring about something that it happens. I had long since given up on the idea that my children could peaceably be in the same room as a guy wearing a Santa suit, let alone sitting on his lap. But then, all of a sudden, when I just plopped them on his lap because the line was short and a friend was there with me, it happened!

Some people have asked me what I teach my kids regarding Santa. I guess I used to really push the idea because I thought it was part of the fun of the season -- though I certainly never intended for it to replace or usurp Jesus' birth. But my experience with Jayna and Santa was... disasterous... and made me re-think things. As I've gotten older, there are some issues that really bother me about what our culture has turned Santa into, far removed from what Saint Nicholas originally intended with his sneaky acts of benevolence. I want my kids to be mindful of the millions of children who don't get anything for Christmas -- who may not even have food in their stomachs -- and it's not because they were on The Naughty List. Lying and working hard to perpetuate a lie to my kids is something else that just doesn't sit well with me, and I've seen a number of parents get kind of ridiculous about it. Also, I want them to know that certain gifts were from people who know them and love them, and to learn the joy of giving, not just receiving.

Anyway, that's the short version of my sentiments. But I still have my kids put cookies (a Mommy Perk), milk and carrots out on Christmas Eve and don't actively stop them from "believing" in Santa.

Here's a little essay I wrote that was published a couple years ago in ParentWise: Austin. But the magazine doesn't have it archived on their website, so I have put my original version here. I hope you all had a very merry Christmas!!

The Santa Lesson
by Joy Nicholas

I used to think I was smart... till I became a mother.

Suddenly, I realized how much I didn’t know — like what to add to four to get “eleventeen”. I didn’t understand the chemistry that made green things unpalatable. And no anatomy class could explain Jell-o Child, the boneless superhero my daughter became whenever she was truly upset.
But my biggest surprise came as Christmas approached the year Jayna was three. That was the year of the Santa Debacle.

I don’t ever remember believing in Santa. My big sister took care of that when I was quite young with a swift and emotionless declaration: "He doesn't exist." And when I dared argue with her, she pointedly said, "We don't even have a chimney." But when Jayna was born, I wanted her to experience the excitement and anticipation, then the magical delight, that Santa inspired.

We began by heading to the mall to get a picture of my sweet girl perched cherubically on Santa’s lap. In my mind, she would represent precisely the kind of little girl found on the “Nice” list. Instead, she dissolved into someone definitely plucked from the “Naughty”.
“Nooooooo!” she screamed at a blood-curdling pitch. “Get me away from him!”

OK, I thought, so we won’t get a picture this year. Still, since we didn’t want her thinking Santa was evil incarnate, my husband and I launched into a full-blown propaganda campaign. We read The Night Before Christmas... and watched her eyes fill with terror at the thought of someone sneaking into the house.

We tried singing. “Up on the housetop reindeer pause...” A little later, I found her staring fearfully up the chimney.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Her blue eyes were huge with tears pooling in them as she turned back to me. “I thought I heard a ‘click, click, click’.”

Of course, there were other songs, like Santa Claus is Coming to Town, which starts with “Oh, you’d better watch out!” Yeah... that brilliant plan stopped as soon as the words were out of our mouths.

Finally, we tried talking to Jayna as though she were a rational human being... in other words, not a three-year-old.

“Jayna,” we reasoned, “Santa is a good guy. He wants to bring you presents.”

“That’s okay,” she said in a tiny voice. “I don’t need anything.”

“WHAT?!?!” I mouthed to my husband.

“Don’t you want a doll?” he asked.

“I already have one.” At that point, we felt her forehead, thinking she must be feverish. We were flabbergasted. Let's just say this level of contentment at age three was not a genetic trait.

That was when we put ourselves in her surprisingly rational shoes. A sleigh full of toys and eight reindeer (nine if it was a foggy night) really wasn’t good for the roof. And while we spent the rest of the year warning about stranger danger, we suddenly wanted her to climb up on this weirdo’s lap for a picture. And just why were we okay with a fat, bearded guy wearing a fur-trimmed velvet suit creeping around our living room at midnight? Normally, we tried to keep people like that out and would never, ever entice them inside with milk and cookies!

As it turned out, she had plenty of awe as she watched my belly grow enormous carrying her little sister. She had the excitement of big packages arriving from aunts and grandparents, filled with presents for her. She experienced wonder on Christmas Eve as she heard about angels singing and starlight shining brightly on a very special Baby that lay in a manger. And she felt joy as candles lit other candles, filling a darkened church with beauty and light.

That Christmas, I think I became a little wiser. Jayna’s reluctance to embrace Santa taught me that happiness cannot be forced, and wonder cannot be artificial. Only from the most profound and mysterious gift of love can we experience true elation and hope.

I hope my kids don’t give up on me. Slowly but surely I’m learning. Maybe someday they could explain how much “eleventeen” is.

Just Like That...

2011-12-06T22:51:00.000-08:00

...she's four! It's hard to believe that four years have passed between this
and this.

It's hard right now to be still and enjoy the moment. The girls had so much happening last weekend -- the bigger two were in a play Sunday the church, with the dress rehearsal Saturday night, Skyler performed at the Santa Breakfast Saturday morning, I went (briefly) to a party while the girls were at their dress rehearsal, and Sunday afternoon they had Nutcracker rehearsals squeezed in between church and their play. Oh yeah, and we had a little birthday party Friday night...

The craziness continues this week, with school concerts, the Nutcracker (three performances and the dress rehearsal) and other little parties and get-togethers. But a week from today, the dust should be settling again, and oh, I can't wait!!! I begin and end every day with fervent prayers for health and sanity, and as my kids cough and wipe their noses, I find myself bargaining with God: "Well, okay, a runny nose is fine as long as there are no fevers, scream-inducing or eardrum-bursting [yeah, it's happened before] ear infections, vomiting or diarrhea."

And I just wish Matt were home. There is no one else in the world that understands me like he does, that laughs and makes me laugh like him, that knows exactly what the look that I thought no one would notice -- often, that I didn't even realize I was doing -- means. In the rare still and quiet moments, I find myself wishing it was March already, asking myself how it could have been only a month since he left.

But then again, would I really want this moment to be over? I love the way Wyatt is waking up to the world a little more each day, how he's cooing and smiling more deliberately and just looking around, taking it all in. With or without my husband, or the craziness factor of this season, these little moments are miraculous and precious. And since I can look at my little guy's three big sisters, and have the breathless, head-spinning realization that they are growing up faster than I dare believe, do I let myself wish to fast-forward anything?

So I'm trying to slow down a little. Focusing on those elusive smiles. Snuggling him against my chest and enjoying the fact that I can soothe him and provide for him. Treasuring the way he grasps my finger when I place it in his palm. Because I know how one day -- all too soon -- he'll let go and run off, and I'll wonder it could have happened so fast.

Thankfulness List Wrap Up

2011-11-30T18:17:00.000-08:00

Well, as November draws to a close (really?!?!), so does my 30 days of Thankfulness List. Which I promise I was working on mentally even if I didn't write it on my blog or Facebook page every day.

24. For the invitation to another fantastic Thanksgiving feast with my Navy family. This was at the house of my friend Gwen, who also hosts the Bible Study I go to. (But somehow I didn't get a picture of her. She is gorgeous. I'm not kidding, she has hair that would make Barbie jealous!) Our Bible Study can be pretty big sometimes, but she had over 40 people at her house for our feast! It was so fun for all of us.

We have some precious friends!
25. For Handel's Messiah, that I listened to as I walked off all the "slivers" of pie the next day. I really like this one.
26. For apple pie for breakfast... and a little more at lunch... and just a bite or so after dinner...
27. For the gorgeous sun we've had for a few days here and there! I really don't mind the rain, but when the sun comes out and shines on all the beautiful, snow-capped mountains... WOW!
28. For being able to do Black Friday shopping from the comforts of home. I'm not one of those people that goes out at midnight to get a deal. I just can't think of anything I'd want that bad to justify it. No, give me my cozy bed, my feet in socks, wearing my pajamas -- bonus, a newborn snuggled on my chest -- and a few good online deals, and I'm a happy girl
29. For the elf named Amazon.com, who is "making" most of the Christmas presents on my "nice" list this year!
30. For you sweet people who read my blog, even if I'm not the most regular post-er -- especially if you follow, and especially especially if you comment!!! (*hint, hint*) :-)

More Thankfulness... and Food!

2011-11-23T22:32:00.000-08:00

OK, so business first. I have six days' worth of thankful thoughts to add to my Thankfulness List...

17. For good books. More on that later.
18. For a funny movie that I actually managed to stay awake through, even though I started it at 10 p.m. I watched Crazy Stupid Love last Saturday. I really enjoy Steve Carrell's movies (well, Evan Almighty wasn't the best, but you know). It's one of those stories where you wish the characters didn't have to do stupid things to learn the hard lessons, but it was really enjoyable.
19. For cuddles with sweet babies. And their big sisters.
20. For the abridged version of The Nutcracker my daughters put on just for me this week. They have not enjoyed their time at the new dance school they're attending because their ballet teacher is hyper-critical. But after they were done, Jayna said, "It feels so good to just dance and not worry about what anyone's thinking." And it felt so good to watch her -- and Skyler and Lilly -- dancing "just because."
21. For forgiveness. I felt compelled to call my parents a few days ago to apologize again for my junior high years. They reminded me that they had forgiven me long ago. I'm not saying this had anything to do with anyone in my house who is in junior high and may or may not have picked a pointless argument with me. 'Cause that junior higher is really pretty cool, even with her normal junior high moments. I'm just saying forgiveness is a wonderful and amazing gift. And being able to laugh about it right after the forgiveness has been given is extra nice.
22. For the squadron's OSC wives who brought us dinners for the past two weeks. They kept our tummies and hearts so happy!
23. For elastic waists. Well, who (in the U.S.) isn't this week?? But they're especially nice when you've just had a baby. (Or are pregnant.) :-)

So after my last list, I was asked in the comments on Facebook for my green bean recipe. First a word about green beans: they used to make me gag. There probably wasn't another vegetable that grossed me out as much as green beans. Somewhere along the line, I don't remember when, how, or why,I tasted green beans that were actually good, and I realized it wasn't the green beans per se, but how they were prepared. But to call it a recipe kind of embarrasses me because it is SO easy!! I'd said "way to prepare" which I guess translates to recipe. Still. It's not the first time I've been asked, though -- I have thrown them together and taken them to dinners a few times -- and with Thanksgiving this week, I thought I should post it as an alternative to the love-it-or-loathe-it traditional green bean casserole.

What to call it though?? How about...

Joy's Green Beans That Won't Make You Gag ;-)
16 oz's fresh or 1 bag of frozen petite green beans (or French style)
1 T (or so... I think... I've never actually measured) cooking oil of choice
2 cloves of garlic, minced (or what I'm using these days is the stuff you squeeze out of a tube, about 1 1/2t's -- 'cause I love garlic)
garlic salt to taste
OPTIONAL
sliced mushrooms (amount to your liking)
toasted almonds (same)
crumbled Feta or Gorgonzola cheese

Heat the oil in a skillet (I almost always use my cast-iron skillet for this). Add garlic and heat just till aroma of garlic is released. Dump in green beans and stir quickly to coat them all with the oil/ minced garlic. Cook until desired. For me, that means, the edges a little browned, kind of like the veggies when you order fajitas.

I'm afraid many of my favorite "recipes" are like this. Sort of, "a slosh of this, a small dollop of that, and a large dollop of the other. Stir and taste and add what you want till it's yummy." Very unspecific.

But this is another recipe I get asked about frequently, and also one that goes well as a Thanksgiving side dish. It's from this cookbook. I make it at least once a week, though I slightly tweaked the recipe. At the Mom's Coffee Break I went to last week, we were asked what was our family's "go-to" dinner that everyone will eat. This was mine. It's low-fat, high-protein, can be high fiber depending on the pasta you use, but best of all, it's delicious. I made this last night, and there were no leftovers.

Baked Mac'n'Cheese
Breadcrumbs (I take a couple pieces of stale-ish sandwich bread and whirl it in the blender or food processor then set them aside in a bowl)
1/4 cup grated onion
1 1/2 cups milk or buttermilk
1 1/2 cups low-fat cottage cheese
4 oz's, or 1 cup, grated sharp cheddar cheese plus extra for the top
1 T prepared or 1 t dried mustard
1/4 t nutmeg
1 t salt
cracked pepper to taste
dash of cayenne (optional)
8 oz's (haf a box) dried macaroni or pasta of your choice

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spray a 9x9 baking dish with cooking spray.
2. Blend milk and cottage cheese, add onion, cheese and spices/ mustard until smooth.
3. Pour dried (that's right, uncooked) pasta into prepared baking dish. Then pour cheese/ milk mixture over pasta, making sure it's all covered.
4. Sprinkle breadcrumbs and extra grated cheddar cheese over top till desired amount.
5. Pop it in the oven and bake for 45 min's. Then allow to stand 5 min's.
6. Call the kids to the table and dig in! :-)

I'm sorry I didn't get this done earlier in the week as I'd hoped to. Maybe it's not too late to make for tomorrow's feasting! But Baked Mac'n'Cheese goes great with green beans, and this fun-to-prepare-as-a-family Dutch Apple Pie would the perfect dessert.

Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving, everyone! :-)

Best. Idea. Ever.

2011-11-18T20:18:00.000-08:00

Today I've got a story for you, and I really, really like this story.

There was a guy with big blue eyes and sandy brown hair and a great smile. And there was a girl, who thought she was pretty average -- average height, weight, brown hair and eyes, with what could be called a "familiar" face. Everyone thought she looked like someone else, sometimes the girl next door (literally) and sometimes, if she was lucky, someone famous.

I guess you could say the story starts thirty-something years ago, but this part of it was seventeen years ago today. The girl and the guy had met at church the previous summer. She thought he knew -- since everyone else seemed to -- that she had a ridiculous crush on him, the kind that would never be requited since he was 3 1/2 years older than her. He was in college already, for Pete's sake, and she was cramming her junior and senior years of high school into one year so that she could graduate early and leave High School Hell behind her forever.

They would talk for hours whenever they were together, as the rest of the people around them seemed to disappear. He would call her or she would call him, and they'd talk until her mom got on the phone and said in a very perturbed voice (because her family lived in the Dark Ages and didn't have call-waiting), "Joy. Get. Off. The. Phone. NOW."

A couple times, he suggested they "go out sometime," but she knew that was a college guy's way of humoring a high school girl's crush. So she tried to keep her voice casual and say, "Yeah, that'd be nice... Maybe we could go to Safari's and get coffee or something." She pretended to be interested in other guys, but always remembered what she told her big sister the night she had met him: "If I don't marry him, I want to marry someone exactly like him."

It was such a silly thing to say, and she knew it, but there was always this tiny little spark of hope in her heart -- even when her sister came back from college youth group one night and announced that she was sure he was interested in someone else. But in October of that year, they started talking more frequently -- several times a week even -- and finally, around the middle of November, she had an idea. A great idea. Maybe even, the best idea. It took a couple more days, but she finally worked up the courage to ask him.

"You know," she said, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice, "I'm driving up to Davis tomorrow [about an hour from the town they lived in] to pick up my sister for the weekend. Mom's kind of scared for me to drive that far alone [not entirely a lie, since she had just gotten her license three months before], so I was wondering if you might want to come with me."

She bit her lip and waited for his answer, which came much more quickly and easily than she'd ever hoped -- "Sure!"

The next day she drove her parents' Chrysler New Yorker to his house. He was standing in front of it wearing jeans and a button-down shirt under his leather jacket. Her heart was pounding. She smiled and waved and as she stopped, he climbed in. Her favorite alternative-rock station was playing, and she said, "You can change the station if you want." But she hadn't expected him to say, "Okay," and switch to country. Goodness -- COUNTRY?!?! Still, she really, really liked him and knew it was either kick him out of the car right then, or... give (*gulp*) even country music a chance for the sake of... maybe not love... yet... but potential for it.

She took a deep breath and put the car into "drive." Because she knew that no one could make her laugh like he did. Because every time they talked, she didn't want to stop talking, but thought of more questions for him, or more she wanted to say. Because when he smiled at her, she felt like she had found her way home.

Thankfulness List (So Far)

2011-11-16T21:37:00.000-08:00

I've noticed on Facebook that several of my friends are posting daily thankfulness comments for "30 Days of Gratitude." I keep thinking that it's such a great idea, except I didn't start writing them down at the beginning of the month... I guess because I was sort of going, "Oh... it's November???" Sooooo, now that November is more than half over (*sigh*), I thought, What a perfect time to start my thankfulness list!

So here's my list of sixteen things I'm thankful for (as always in no particular order):
1. For the dark and stormy night outside as I write this, because it's making me extra thankful for the nice and cozy walls protecting me, and the warm fire in our fireplace as the girls and I read our chapter from The Penderwicks at Point Mouette tonight.
2. For the small miracles of hot showers and and a cup of hot Irish Breakfast tea in the morning. (I truly believe it's in my shower stall that I go from the Clark Kent version of me to the Superman one.)
3. For compromise. This is what it looks like. She wanted to wear a sundress. The projected high was 40 degrees. I am counting her jacket as a major victory... though she skipped the socks.
4. For the sound of the zipper on three pairs of my old jeans zipping up... on me.
5. That jeggings and leggings and long, loose, flowy tops are in this year. 'Nuff said.
6. That my dad "only" needed two stents and an angioplasty, and that he seems to be back to his old self (though moving a little slower -- which is not entirely a bad thing).
7. For the four sweet, sweet people that I get to spend my days with.
8. For my iPod, (even if it's not my iPhone) and therein, the worship songs, the Bethany Dillon, the Mat Kearney, the Michael Buble, and so many others that help get me through the down moments. Also, the FaceTime. Also the little screen that says the date and day of the week, and the time. I'd be so lost without it.
9. For my awesome Bible Study group here, and the Mom's Coffee Break at my church that I tried out for the first time today. I ran into a friend I'd met in Jacksonville, and she invited me over to lunch afterwards. I took her seriously and accepted, which is hopefully as okay as she acted like it was, because I had such a lovely visit. Made my day. :-)
10. For my friends who have been bringing me meals these past 10 days or so. I keep saying how guilty I feel because it's not like I'm laid up in bed, but it is SO nice not having to worry about what I will fix for dinner. It gives me a little extra time to "babymoon." Plus, I'm guaranteed adult conversation.
11. For the freezer Matt bought us just before he left. I have big plans to fill it with healthy, whole-food, and delicious home-cooked meals... someday. For now, though, I'm thankful... (see below)
12. For Costco, their cheese pizzas that come four to a box, their manicotti that my girls all love, the giant bag of organic green beans (I have a simple but delicious and healthy way to prepare them, and my kids eat them like French fries!) and Dave's Killer Bread. I think there are eight loaves of it in there right now.
13. For a husband who, among so many other wonderful attributes, made sure that we would not starve anywhere in the near future before he left for several months.
14. For health of my family, and that I'm feeling pretty good all in all (as long as I don't sit down too quickly! Sorry if that's TMI.) 3 weeks after having a big ol' baby. But seriously, there are moments when I just feel overwhelmed with thankfulness for this one.
15. That my husband was able to be with me for the birth of our son.
16. For... ummm... did I mention this guy? ;-) For another precious opportunity to fall in love, recklessly, head over heels. And, I don't even care he wears a diaper and really digs his blue paci. ;-)

So how about you? What are you thankful for?

Here Goes Nuthin'...

2011-11-09T16:58:00.000-08:00

This has been a crazy couple weeks. I have gone from being a mother of three to a mother of four, and now I'm a temporarily (I pray) single mother of four. Hopefully it's for no more than four months.

The worst days were Thursday, just before Matt left, and then Friday night, when I saw the empty place in our bed where he wasn't sleeping. [And then *sigh* I had to get back out of my nice, warm bed to put water in the cup that he had so faithfully ensured was full for the 11 days since I had Wyatt because I get so thirsty nursing. Have I mentioned that I love my husband?]

But I know I have so much to be thankful for. His squadron went through a lot to make sure he was here for the birth. He's in a relatively safe place and not on the carrier, which means we can be in touch frequently. We're fully outfitted with both FaceTime and Google Video Chat (in case one fails us), so I've gotten to "see" him. It's kind of like he's The Doctor from Star Trek: Voyager. (And this I only know because I am married to a sorta-Trekkie, not because I am one myself).

I also have a great support group. My super-friend, the oft-mentioned Elissa, gave me a pep talk and broke down the coming months for me in bite-size chunks so that I would be able to think about the time without completely freaking out. Friends are bringing me meals for a couple weeks, I attend a great church with lovely people and sermons that always seem to have been written just for me, and we've got all the holiday fun to look forward to.

So how's it been going? Well, it's Wednesday, 3/4's of the way through this short week (thank You, Lord!), and I'm happy to report that I've gotten my daughters to school on time every day so far! I know, right? Yay me!! Monday my one goal was to get to the post office to forward some mail to our landlord and send a package of things my parents had left. I got out the door at 12:30. BUT, the success went to my head, and that afternoon at 4:45, I even ventured to Target, twenty-five minutes away. I ended up being there so long (had to stop for a long nursing for Wyatt, then a potty break for Lilly since I'd given her an Icee while I nursed) that I (oh, the horror!) actually got kind of sick of Target. It might also have had something to do with the older girls begging for a sled they saw. But in spite of being there so long, I forgot half the things I'd planned to buy because I got so tired all I could think of was going home.

The two days since have been slightly more successful. I got to Bible Study yesterday and Mommy and Me today within half an hour of their start times.:-D

I've always been impressed by my kids' abilities to translate for the infant siblings. Yesterday, while I was in the shower, Wyatt started crying.

"MOM!" Lilly yelled. "WYATT'S CRYING!!" (Pause) "HE SAYS HE WANTS THE NURNIES!"

And speaking of...er, milk... I have apparently failed my youngest daughter. Somehow this picture from a recent library pick caused some major confusion. She didn't realize that a cow's udder is there and thinks the bucket is filled with potty business. I need to take her to a farm. (Or maybe not.)

Matt wants an almost-family pic a day, so here's our first from Sunday. We skipped Monday, on account of my being dead tired by the time we got home and had dinner. Last night, we gave Wyatt a little bath in the sink.

It was a family affair.

I think we could have some fun with this almost-family pic thing!

So, yeah... we're hanging in there! (I think) With this Friday being Veteran's Day, though, I have to say it takes my breath away, truly, to think of all the families who have had separations three or four times as long as the one our family is going through, and they've done it two, maybe three times. I truly can't even wrap my mind around it. Please, keep all our veterans and armed forces in your thoughts and prayers this week.

Scary, Scary, Scary

2011-11-01T14:25:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been quite a week! Besides having Wyatt and all the accompanying wonderfulness, my dad, who was visiting, had a heart attack. Apparently, the cardiologist thinks it happened before he got here, when he was on a recent trip to Kazakhstan, but all last week, he was in terrible pain, and finally, on Friday, was correctly diagnosed. On Sunday afternoon, he had two stents put in and an angioplasty He was released from the hospital today, and is staying with a cousin in Everett, who doesn't have two flights of stairs to the guest room bed. The doctors think expect a full recovery. If everyone could say a prayer, though, also for my mom who has been running herself ragged these past few months and now has gone through this extra stress, it would be appreciated. I took this last week, before we knew what was going on.
So... Less serious now. The Saturday before Wyatt was born, when I'd had a few "early labor" contractions but wasn't sure real labor would ever start, when Matt was watching one of the early games of the World Series, the girls and I decided to have a sort of Girls' Night In. I'm so glad we got the chance to do this. We painted our nails and chatted just like we were all in a nail salon (not on the floor of my bathroom), and all three of them talked about how that was just they'd wanted. Me too!

We also got out some paints and painted my super-enormous belly.Mom was kind of panicking, but I kept telling her, "Don't worry, it's washable." She decided it was too much for her and went to bed. :-)
It was hard to determine where the eyes, nose, and mouth should go. And we didn't know where our brushes were, so it was totally finger-painted. But maybe that was all for the best.

Scary, huh?
Seriously, when I look at these pics, I am blown away that anyone would have called my belly "small." Even though it was a part of me, it's shocking, ten days later, to look at these! I was huge!

And now for something "so cute it's scary." Yeah, Mr. Wonderful Wyatt. My friend Emily gave us this outfit. It cracks me up.

And with his big sister.
Naptime on Halloween. (Mondays are "Clean Sheet Day" in my house, so that's why my bed doesn't remotely look pretty.) I just love how she is holding her fairy wand in her sleep?

Halloween is -- by far -- not my favorite holiday. But I sure did love dressing up and begging for candy when I was little, and I didn't get to do it often enough, growing up in Bangladesh and Thailand. So we have a lot of fun doing just that. Yesterday afternoon, there was trick-or-treating downtown.
It cracked me up as I passed a woman talking on her cell phone saying, "I'm uptown at the moment, but I'm headed that way." Uptown?!? Hello! Our downtown is like five blocks! Which is exactly what I love about it. :-)
I can never get my kids to all dress as one theme. My friend Elissa can and she has come up with the cutest things!! So instead I had a 50's girl, a candy corn, and a fairy who kind of reminded me of Abby Cadabby. And Wyatt.

But the best part, of course, was when we were all safe and warm inside, the loot was on the table, and the trading began! How was your Halloween?

Just Another Dream Come True

2011-10-27T08:42:00.000-07:00

Fifteen years ago this week, I said "yes" to one of the most important questions I've ever been asked. People thought we were crazy. After all, I was eighteen, and he was twenty-one. But we here we are, by the grace of God, more in love than ever and thankful for every minute we get to be together. And as I think on all the wonderful dreams that came true because of that little three-letter answer, there's a new one:
Wyatt Matthew, born October 24th.

All day Sunday I was having mild "early labor" contractions. I was feeling... well, not annoyed exactly, but a bit stressed. Would these ever turn into real contractions? Matt is leaving at the beginning of November; would he get to meet our little guy?

We went for a two-mile hike Sunday evening while my parents watched the kids, and my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart. I thought, This is it. I ate a small dinner and put the kids to bed, wondering if I should call the hospital. But then I decided they weren't so bad as to forgo sleep, so after watching a couple Seinfeld re-runs, I settled down and figured they would either get worse or go away entirely.

Two hours later, I woke up and had two contractions about 3 minutes apart. Good, I thought. But after I got up and went to the bathroom, they went away entirely. I lay in bed for an hour, stewing. Then suddenly, I had one... two... three contractions... pretty close together. I just relaxed and thanked God for them... and they kept coming, a few minutes apart. Suddenly I realized I was focused on relaxing and breathing, and working kinda hard at that because they... kinda hurt. I decided I needed to tell Matt that it was time to go.

He leapt into his clothes and had his shoes tied by the time the next contraction started, even though I was still in pajamas.

"Maybe we should wait after all," I said. He sighed and started taking off his shoes. Then there was another contraction. "Never mind," I said. Then a few seconds later, "Wellll...."

"This is fun and all," he finally said, "but are we going to the hospital now or not?" I laughed and said he should have been a fireman. If I'd been in a more playful mood, I'd have timed him! :-)

I have to say, it was the best hospital I have ever given birth in. I had a great doctor with one baby, and an amazing nurse with another, but this whole hospital was just fantastic. From the second I arrived in the birth center at about 3 a.m., the nurses were attentive and caring, but let me know that my wishes for this birth were exactly what they wanted too. I told them I didn't have a birth plan except I'd done natural childbirth for all three of my kids, and I intended to do the same, and they assured me that was great -- they wouldn't "push" anything on me. Everything they did was explained and asked if I was okay with, even the monitoring of the baby. I'd only dilated to a 4-5 but the membranes were bulging and I was completely effaced. My doctor got there at 4 and broke my water. At thar point, things really started to progress. I'd left my iPod at home, which is the closest thing to drugs I use during labor. So Mom and Jayna had arrived to bring me that, but as per Jayna's request, waited outside.

At about five, the contractions got very "pushy". I told Matt to let Mom know, and she came in while Jayna waited in the hall. The doctor said to push when I felt like it was time, but when I told her I felt like it was and she checked, there was still just a bit of the cervix left. But the contractions wouldn't let up. I was trying so hard not to push, but it became impossible. She said to go ahead and push, and then next thing I knew she was telling me -- very calmly -- that I needed to push harder.

Push harder?!?! Could she not see what I was doing?!?! I tried and tried. After every push -- and these were good pushes that would have gotten Wyatt's sisters out no problem -- I'd ask, "Is he coming?" And she just looked at me and shook her head. Then she explained that she needed me was going to give me oxygen and I needed to just to breathe through the next contraction.

This had never happened before. Except for with Jayna, my babies came out in 2-3 contractions. The doctor was still completely calm, but said his heart rate was going down. I did my best to breathe, but there came a point where it was out of my control entirely. She had me lie on my left side, and I could see the monitor... and Wyatt's heart rate dropping. It had been comfortably around 145 all along -- suddenly it was 65 and going down. I was panicking and in pain. She told me to go ahead and push as hard as I could. I wanted to ask how she thought that was humanly possible. But I tried to do that. I tried to do everything she told me to. Everything Matt was telling me to do. Everything Mom was telling me to do. Finally, I could tell from the pain he was coming. I kept pushing and finally I got that terrible pain that told me his head was out. But then came the ordeal of his shoulders... my gosh, those shoulders!!

Then, suddenly, amazingly, there he was. I couldn't see him yet because by that point I was flat on my back, but Mom said he was there and he was perfect, and as they lifted him onto my chest he finally let out a little cry.

I was crying and saying he was wonderful and I loved him, and I almost couldn't even see through the tears.

Jayna came in right away. The doctor and nurses let me hold him as long as I wanted, but after a while, they started to say, "You know, not to pressure you or anything, but we'd really like to see how big he is... if that's okay with you." He seemed somehow tiny, even after everything. We all made our guesses, and mine was somewhere in the 8 1/2 lb range because the girls were all between 7 lb's 10 oz's and 8 lb's. I was wrong!

I had this t-shirt packed for Lilly in my hospital bag. I wish I'd had one that said "Little Sister in Charge" for the past almost-four years! :-)
Unfortunately, she started running a fever that afternoon, so she only got a little time at the hospital with her brother. I'm hoping and praying whatever she has doesn't get to Wyatt. We've done our best to keep them separate, but she wants so badly to be helpful.

We spent the day just loving being a family

and falling in love with everything Wyatt.

Maybe we were a little crazy to get married so young, but maybe a little crazy can be -- by God's grace -- a whole lot of good. I'm so thankful for the question Matt asked me, and even more thankful that I said yes.

Soon Enough

2011-10-17T11:46:00.000-07:00

{photo courtesy of Jayna}
Well, I guess I should start every post from now until Baby arrives with my pregnancy status, so here it is. Still pregnant. :-)

At my doctor's appointment on Friday, I had plenty of assurance that I won't be pregnant forever, things are happening, and I think that based on the number of times my doctor reminded me she was on call for the weekend, she is probably surprised that she hasn't seen us yet. I thought Saturday night might be the time, because I had contractions 2 minutes apart for about 40 minutes -- not horribly painful, but more "real" early labor types than Braxton-Hicks. But... then they went away. Which is fine. Matt is finishing up some things that would best be completed before Baby's arrival -- and so am I. I didn't do any of my planned sewing this weekend, just spent most of my time cleaning, resting, and reading.

Yesterday, Lilly came running up to me with a photo of our family when it consisted of just four people. (And just one dog.)

"Where was me?" she asked, a look of real concern on her face. Clearly, we had forgotten her.

"As hard as this is to believe," I told her, "there was a time when you weren't in our family. You weren't born yet."

She was shocked. "Was I in your tummy?"

"No, not exactly. You just weren't here."

It was a lot to wrap her brain around. And as I looked at the picture, (something was definitely missing!) it was kind of a lot for my brain, too -- just like it's hard to remember how the sun dared to shine, how I ever thought for a second I was happy before Skyler and Jayna entered my life. Or Matt, for that matter!

It's strange to think that there will be a time when we look at photos of our family before this little one and think, How did we ever survive?? And it's so easy to get swept up in the excitement -- the dreams of kissing his sweet cheeks or tiny toes, and the wonderings of whose eyes he will have (or, I have to admit, eagerness to get back into my non-maternity jeans!) -- that I find myself ready for it all to happen already.

But soon enough, change is coming. There are moments when I wonder what it's going to be like to have a boy, or just another person to love, period. And as over-the-moon happy I am at the thought of him... it's going to be different, too. As Lilly curls against me during our many naps, her silky hair tucked under my chin, I think about how she's not going to be the baby any more. How no matter how small she seems to me at the moment, the first moment I see her after this baby is in my arms, she will suddenly seem giant and awfully grown-up.

The Big Sisters start each day asking if today's the day our baby arrives, and I shrug and say, "I don't know, maybe. Maybe not. But trust me, it will be soon." I'm just savoring the sweetness of Now until it changes into Something Even Better.

Big Mama

2011-10-13T15:05:00.001-07:00

Hey there! Yes, I'm still pregnant. Very much so.

First off, let me just say a big Happy Birthday to the U.S. Navy and all my "family" I've acquired through the 11+ years of my time with it. We had a super fun dinner last weekend where some of my closest, longest-time Navy "sisters" (and husbands and kids) got together in honor of our friend -- the super creative and wonderfully sweet Doreen -- coming into town for a (too brief) visit.

Doreen and her husband are now "civilians" and live about 4 or 5 hours from here. I think the last time we were all together, there were maybe 4 kids among us, and I had half of them. Here's our collective brood now. Impressive, no?

I think there are actually one or two not pictured because they didn't like the camera. I could be wrong. It's tough to keep track. :-) Here's the gals.

The thing is, every time I look at this picture, I'm a little startled. I know "they" say every pregnancy is different, but seriously, could I get any bigger? With my other pregnancies, it seemed like I was always trying to convince people that my baby was coming as soon as I claimed. This time, though, at almost 38 weeks, everyone who strikes up a conversation with me starts by saying, "So you must be due any day now." Or, "Wow, you look like you're about to pop!" Or (my personal favorite), "When are you due? Like, two weeks ago?" Last week, as I rushed Lilly through the locker room on her way to swim lessons, I found myself doing a double take as I passed the mirror. The person reflected back was wearing the very clothes I'd put on that morning, but her tummy stuck out so far! It couldn't be me... could it??

Ummm... apparently yes.

Jayna (my budding photographer) decided we needed to fully document my tummy in all its grandeur. So over the course of a few days, we snapped these shots. Between playing with my unprofessional cameras and iPhoto, we had a lot of fun, and snapped some cute pics.

What I'm ~~remembering all too clearly since it was a short 21 years ago~~ learning, though, is that 12-year-olds have a lot of opinions. Especially about their mothers. While she snapped away and inserted nice compliments every so often -- "Oooh, that one was good!" or just "You're going to love this!" -- she stopped at one point and said, "Wow, Mom... your belly and your butt... they're like balloons pointing in two different directions off your body." Gosh. What do you say to that??!! "Thanks"?!?

And Monday she came home from school, telling me how her principal had asked if our baby was here yet. (He and his wife just had a baby the first week of school.) She told him, no, not yet, but I was "HUGE!!!" and she had taken to calling me Big Mama. (true) Which, I guess, is all well and good. Except that then her friend who saw me at church the day before added her two-cents' worth -- "Yeah, she really is! I saw her yesterday, and she's enormous!!!" :-)

Yep, it's always nice to know what 7th graders are thinking. But I still love this crazy thing called pregnancy. Provided I don't pop tonight (and I kinda doubt I will), I'll post some of the projects I've been frantically trying to finish up soon! In the meantime... signing off. Yours truly, Big Mama. :-)

Pumpkin Paradise

2011-10-04T22:01:00.000-07:00

Well, it is high time my husband got home. How do I know this? Sure, I've been having lots of achiness and crampy feelings (especially after cleaning up a huge dog mess by the back door and then crawling under bed to pull the 60-lb. dog who made the mess out and put him outside -- now there are some fun mental images, huh?). But the very worst is, my brain has apparently gone down the toilet. I was just sending a friend an e-mail and trying to tell her how I'm always cracking up about something, but what I wrote instead of "crack up" was "crap." Yes, I actually wrote the words, "Every time I think about that, I crap."

Ugh. I blame the dog. :-) He put waaaaaay too much poop in my life for one day.

Anyway, after last year's "adventure" at the pumpkin patch, I was determined to get to some of the cute little farms around here and get some pumpkins. So on Sunday after church, a friend of mine, her two girls and my three, plus my bump, piled into her car and headed to one of the many nearby farms. We had so much fun.

There was a corn maze and playground,

but, of course, the best part was picking out the pumpkins.

My girls decided each person in our family needed a pumpkin. You could say we went a little crazy with it.

Seven pumpkins -- yes, seven, I don't know why -- later...

the scales tipped at 55 pounds!

Anyway, hopefully I can hold my brain together (and hold the baby in) for at least couple more days so that Matt is home to proofread my e-mails! PUH-LEEEEZE give me your favorite pumpkin recipes in the comments, 'cause with 55 lb's of pumpkin, I sure could use some help! :-)

Bumpilicious

2011-09-29T16:30:00.000-07:00

Well, I know what I said about blogging more, and I'm the worst blogger ever, etc., etc. Blah blah blah. So instead of writing my usual explanations and excuses, I'm just going to skip to today's post: the "bump".

By my calculations, I'm about 35 1/2 weeks pregnant now. The 20-week sonogram says I'm 36 1/2 weeks, which kinda freaks me out because it means that in 1/2 a week, I will be in the window where they don't try to stop labor if it starts. Matt's gone again, so I need Baby Boy to stay put another couple weeks so the guy who makes labor *almost* fun -- or at least funNY -- will be around. Also, my dear friend who has volunteered to step in if needed has four little ones and just found out she's pregnant with the fifth, and I'm positive she would rather sleep than help me breathe through contractions.

Anyway, the "latest" is that we had a sonogram again last week, and we are definitely having a boy. AND, he's head-down, good to go. The doctor says I am measuring exactly as I should for how many weeks I am, but I still have a feeling he's going to be on the bigger side. I've had many friends whose doctors said the same, and they ended up with nine-pounders. I doubt he'll get that big, but still.

I generally like being pregnant (after that awful first trimester), so I'm still happy and having fun, but I will say, I've never had heartburn as I have with this one. I get it from grapes, people -- that's right, grapes. Not to mention chocolate. *sniff, sniff* There is an amazing taqueria in town, and their salsa is SO good that I figure if I'm going to die of heartburn, I might as well enjoy the experience. But I am hoping that all returns to normal after Baby is born. The good news is that, while trying to quell the awful fire in my esophagus, or prevent it, I've been eating lots of dairy products, and my nails are noticeably stronger than they were at this point in my previous pregnancies. Just hoping I don't develop a kidney stone from all the calcium!

I will also say, there seems to be no such thing as "good" maternity jeans. At least not any in my price range. I tried The Belly Belt, but I wasn't very happy with it. It seemed to be cutting into my belly from about six months on. Anyone have an "I beg to differ..." suggestion? I'm curious.

So here are a few pix of the growing bump. My sister and I were both pregnant with #4, due 7 weeks apart. She had her baby three weeks ago, adorable little Sophia whom I would love to see and cuddle! I was about 24 weeks here, I think.

Here's a shot of me and Lilly at one of the amazing points to hike to around here. This is at about 28 weeks, if I remember correctly.

This one was taken at the same spot, different view, at about 32 weeks, when my parents were here for Labor Day weekend.

And here's this week's pic, taken at the wonderful baby shower my friends through Monday night!

All in all, I'm hoping Baby stays put for a little longer. I love having him to myself for this sweet time, knowing that he hears me laughing, pushing on his little feet so that he kicks me back, whispering "I love you" to him as he hiccups my bedtime away. :-)

2011-09-11T22:20:00.001-07:00

Just Stuff

2011-08-30T21:43:00.001-07:00

Well, now that I've shown you so many pictures of how wonderful life has been since moving here, I need to get honest and open for a few minutes. Bear with me. :-)

In so many ways, this has been an easy move. I knew lots of people here and they are dear, sweet, wonderful friends. It's kind of like going to a family reunion without scary Uncle Bob, if you know what I mean. Just pure, good fun, without having to go through the awkward, getting-to-know-you stage with everyone. I love the scenery and the weather, the hikes, the restaurants, and so on.

But there have been the tough parts as well. Matt has had to miss both our anniversary and my birthday already, and if things go as planned, he'll miss all the important holidays, probably even Valentine's Day. Still, we kind of counted on that. There have been challenges already for the girls, who loved their dance school and are finding the one here to be very different. Plus, they have to make new friends and start new schools next week. New, new, new. Again and again and again. There have been so many days already when they've asked with tears in their eyes, "Mommy, when can we stop moving? We're so tired of it!"

And then this move was one of the hardest ever on our "household goods." In other words, "stuff." It would have been worse if Matt and I hadn't caught some of the grievous mistakes the movers had made in packing and insisted that they re-do it. So in general, breakages were limited to annoying things like a ceramic canister full of sugar, and losses were just things like shelves to a cheap bookcase we've had forever or (so frustrating!) the lids to my pots and pans.

Then one of my daughters lost my iPHone. Honestly, I can't think of a piece of technology I've ever loved like that thing. I mean, you can do EVERYTHING with it.

But the real heartbreak came from my piano being damaged to the point that the only thing we could really do with it (save pouring more money into it than what it was worth) was throw it away. It was a rather stupid purchase I made at age 18, one I wouldn't have made had I known that the man I loved and would be married to would join the Navy guy and we'd move, literally, all over the place. Each move has damaged it just a little more, and then there was the tuning cost. But still, I was almost sick to my stomach when the garbage people hauled it away and I heard it go crashing into the truck. I went inside and cried, thinking of the songs I'd played to my unborn children, wondering what they thought of the music they heard. Then the lullabies when they were cradled in a sling against my chest. The "songs" they had banged away on the keys, and the songs that I was teaching them. The Christmas carols. It always seemed that "home" was wherever we were playing that piano.

Still, when it all boils down... I have to remember that it's just stuff. Even my piano. It's not like we don't have music in my home now. Matt saw to it that I had a really good keyboard before we even got rid of the piano, and among many other benefits (hello, headphones??), this will make our moves much easier. The iPhone... yeah, that stinks, but it's okay. Now the lost lids... that's another issue! ;-)

Seriously, though, I've always kind of prided myself in not being a materialistic person. I've tried to teach my kids it's not what you have that matters. But faced with these "losses," how did I react? Frankly... kind of like someone had died. I need to be reaching out to my kids' right now, exemplifying that I'm not someone who just focuses on the outside, and instead, tending closely to their tender hearts.

Anyway, I just thought I'd open up and share the other side of this move with you, and a bit of what I've been thinking and wrestling with. Sorry it's kind of open-ended and rambling... it's late, and my adult conversations have been rather limited lately. :-) Three precious kids are sleeping sweetly in a cozy home, and a little guy is kicking my ribs. It's been a day of laughter and play and good health. So all I can say is, "Thank You, Lord."

Sweet Summertime!

2011-08-17T21:43:00.000-07:00

Yeah, yeah, I know I said I would be better about this, and I haven't been!! But summer up here is so short and fleeting! I already see hints of red on the maple trees! The weather has been so lovely, even if everyone tells me it's about 10 degrees cooler than usual. So we have been getting out and about every chance we get (read: when I'm not still unpacking and putting things away *sigh*).

And what have we been doing, you might ask?

Berry-picking...

visiting a local festivals...

exploring what the shore looks like in the northwest vs. southeast...

spending time with old friends and making plenty of new ones...

hanging out at the park...

hiking...
{Gosh, I think my husband's cute!!}

eating ice-cream...

ice-cream...

and, um, more ice-cream (thanks, Lilly!).

Summer sure is sweet, isn't it?

Road Trip!!! (The Big One)

2011-08-03T17:41:00.000-07:00

If you've been reading my blog a while, you know my family looooves a good road trip. So part of our excitement regarding our move to Washington came from the fact that we got to plan a 3,000+ mile one.

We made a few changes this time. For one thing, we purchased a small camper trailer. (Notice the word "small." I am not talking about one of those multi-level 5th-wheels.) We figured it would be good for the traveling, good for the house-hunting, and good for making family memories for years to come. It was all of the above, but not good for Matt's stress level the first couple days , the gas tank, or our patience with each other six weeks later.

But we slept better in it than we do in the average motel, thanks to the roar of the fan that drowns out all other noise and the fact that most campgrounds (all that we stayed in) have "quiet hours" so you do not have drunk neighbors coming in at 2 a.m. (or, as has also happened, neighbors who invite "special friends" in for "special times" when there are paper-thin walls). Also, on our last road trip, there were two separate occasions -- that's right, TWO -- when I was checking under the motel bed for things we might have left out and pulled out someone else's dirty socks!!!! YEEESH!!! I still have nightmares.

And campgrounds are GREAT for kids.

All but one that we stayed in had playgrounds, and most had pools, so the girls had a great time every night blowing off steam from spending hours in the car. In South Dakota, there were these huge outdoor bounce pillows, kind of like giant in-ground trampolines. So cool!!!

It would have been hard to drive further in the continental US than we did, since we basically went from one corner to the diagonally opposite. We got a late-ish start our first day, so we only drove to a place about an hour south of Atlanta. But it was a charming little place, and it turned out to be really close to where Fried Green Tomatoes (one of my favorite movies ever!) was filmed. I got to see the outside of the Whistle Stop Cafe, though it was closed by the time we got there.

The next night, we stayed with some of my relatives in Nashville. I LOVE Nashville. I honestly think I could live there. And I love these relatives so much, it would be great to be closer to them. Unfortunately, I didn't take a single picture the entire time because I was so busy enjoying my conversation with them. So you'll just have to take my word that they are wonderful, beautiful people with precious hearts. Right now they are medically fostering little Kenbe, a boy from Haiti, who is just darling and captivated us the whole evening. (Why, why, why didn't I take out my camera???)

From there we drove to somewhere in the country in Missouri, and then up to Sioux Falls, SD. I didn't get my 50th state, but that was okay. It was just so beautiful driving across all of this wonderful country. There was more than one occasion when I caught myself tearing up as I looked out the window.

South Dakota was an interesting place. Overall, it's beautiful. But we made a special point to stop in Mitchell to see the Corn Palace, and it was... kinda lame.

But then we stopped for lunch at this random roadside diner in an old train from the fifties, which was really pretty cool.

We spent one night just outside Mt. Rushmore.

We saw the monument right at dusk, and a surprise downpour that lasted just a few minutes meant I got this great photo of a double rainbow.

One night was on the Wyoming side of Yellowstone,

and the next was in Montana, then Spokane, and finally, here! Yellowstone was a great day for us.

We saw four grizzly bears, including a mama and her baby cubs (yes, quite possibly that mama if you've seen the news lately),

but from the safety of our car. Just the way I want to see grizzlies. :-) We also spotted several moose (why isn't it meese???), and tons of bison and deer.

It took us fully eight days to drive across the country, but it seemed to go so fast -- even faster than our crazy road trip eighteen months ago that took just a day or so longer round trip!

The dogs didn't actually go with us this time -- thanks to my wonderful dad who drove them and my car out to California. The two weeks in the camper when we came back to Washington with them was quite enough!! But here's a shot of them demonstrating how to use space efficiently when you've got five (or six, in a way) people and two dogs with very little floor space.

Would I do it again? Definitely!! In fact, even though I kind of just want to settle down and nest at the moment, I'm day-dreaming about the next time!

The Times They Are A-Changing!

2011-07-29T11:17:00.001-07:00

Wow! So, looking at my list of posts, I realize it's been almost three months since I last wrote anything here. And what a three months it has been!! I'm afraid everyone's given up on me, assumed I quit this, etc., so I'm surprised and grateful to see I don't have any less followers.

But I've spent a lot of time thinking about my blog, what I want it to be now versus what I wanted it to be when it started, and trying to decide how to make that happen. And there's also the excuse of having had a really long time when we didn't have regular access to the internet. While I realize it's technologically possible, I wasn't about to do posts on my iPhone. I'm just not that into typing with my thumbs. And finally, I've been busy. Really, really busy.

First off, I should mention that I am now living about three thousand miles from where I was when I last posted. We moved about as far as you can on the continental U.S. and are currently residing in the B-E-A-U-tiful state of Washington! I love it here! Everywhere I look is like a view from a postcard, even on cloudy/ rainy days. The weather suits my big-ol'-pregnant self much better, too, than the weather in already-sweltering-for-two-months Florida -- though I do miss swimming! But produce stands with delicious AND beautiful veggies and berries are everywhere, and when I order vegetarian, no one looks at me cross-eyed. In fact, they often present me with more vegetarian choices. Sooooo awesome!

Second, we sold our house in Florida. It was truly an act of God. That being said, it was intensely stressful, and I don't care to repeat it. Ever. Some friends from church saw another friend from church we'd hired to work to on our yard when we were planning to put it on the market. When he told them of our plans, they told their friends who wanted just that kind of house for just that price only in our small, rather hard-to-get-into neighborhood. What followed, though, were the craziest two months, where I learned fully the meaning of the saying, "'Tis many a slip twixt cup and lip." And none of it had anything to do with us or our house. Our buyers had some issues surface, then the buyer of their house had all kinds of problems. It was not "a done deal" until just hours before we closed. I had weeks of horrible tension headaches, which really stinks when you can only take regular strength Tylenol. If I'd tried to blog, all that would have come out was, "BLLLLLAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!"

But. Many of my friends have pointed out that we sold our house for the price (not really a profit, but not losing anything even with all the repairs we made) we wanted in 7 weeks in a bad economy, without ever actually putting it on the market. And that is amazingly true, so I want to give a big, thankful shout-out to my Heavenly Father for yet another amazing and undeserved blessing! I just don't ever, ever, ever, EVER want to buy a house again. :-)

Anyway, following that, we had a lovely drive across the U.S.

We found a rental home here (another crazy story! for another time, though) and headed to California to see family.

Our girls spent a week with their best friends,
a time that was desperately needed and such a blessing all around. Matt and I even had a little overnight getaway to Yosemite, where we hiked way too fast for this pregnant mama to the top of Vernal Falls. This picture was taken from the bridge before the hike up.

This was taken at the top.

I had worked out so irregularly for the weeks preceding this that afterwards I could barely walk for two days! But it was so fun.

At the beginning of July we headed back here so Matt could start work and we could move into our new home.

Probably the biggest change in our family won't fully be realized till this fall, though. Baby #4 is A BOY!!!!! On the one hand, when the sonogram tech pointed out that what I thought I was seeing was, in fact, that, I almost fell off the table. But I had kind of had a feeling all along. We are really excited for this new parenting/ family adventure. I just don't know how we will pick a name for the little guy. The debate rages... :-)

So there you have it, the craziness of my past few months in a nutshell. I promise to be better about all this, I realize I have been just terrible. But thanks for hanging in there. See you soon!

Thoughts on Mommyness

2011-05-10T13:15:00.000-07:00

Oh my... what a wonderful Mother's Day I had. It was full of sweetness! The girls brought me a whole table full of food, then rubbed my feet and neck as I ate. There were gifts galore, most homemade but all given with much love. We went out to lunch and then Jayna gave me a manicure (yes, I have pink nails for the first time in ages!!!) plus a scalp massage and hair 'do while I waited for my nails to dry. Meanwhile, Matt, Skyler, and Lilly were busy turning our dining room into Le Mama's, a "gourmet, six-star (first of its kind)" restaurant.

The maitre d' and waiter looked, um, surprisingly similar -- though, in my opinion, quite handsome. And there was dancing and entertainment,

and it was all just a sweet, hilarious, fun evening.

During the day, though, it came up that my initial reaction the very first time I saw a positive sign on the pregnancy test was a gasp of terror, followed by, "NOOOOO!!!!" I was married, but I was also twenty years old, starting my last year of college, and working at a preschool with kids that made me terrified of motherhood. There I was on the cusp of everything, and I was doing exactly what everyone around me had told me (in maybe not so many words) was the absolute worst thing that could happen to my plans. I mean, you just didn't get married during college (oops!) and if you did, you most certainly did not let yourself get pregnant. That should come only after you've finished at least one degree, preferably two, and worked for a few years to build up enough money to decorate your nursery with all the finest from the nicest stores. And yet again, there I was doing everything wrong. Matt had his degree, but had just turned down a great opportunity for employment.

Anyway, I did just what any smart girl in my situation would do. I drank a ton of water, waited an hour or so, and re-took the test. Positive again?!?! That was when I called the 800 number on the box and said there certainly had to be a mistake.

"No, sweetie," the woman on the other end of the line said, laughing a little, "if you took two tests and they were both positive, and your period is a full week late, then I think it's time to call the doctor. Congratulations! You're pregnant!"

I muttered "Thanks," and put the phone down in a stupor. Then, somehow, hearing those words did something to me. And Matt, who was there, watching all of this will attest to what I tell you now. It was like in that moment, I became an entirely different person. See, until then, I had been quite a control freak. I wanted the world on a string, going exactly the way I said it should. Suddenly, though, the control had been yanked from my hands. Suddenly, I realized that there was something much better than control, and that was surrendering to God's plan.

I can't tell you it made for an easy time. We had very little money during the whole pregnancy, and our nursery (which was also our bedroom) wasn't the stuff of designers' dreams. Rather, it was decorated with what people shared with us out of love. One friend loaned us the handmade cradle her husband had crafted and three of her children had slept their first nights in. Another loaned us a swing and bouncer. An older guy in one of my classes dropped off three boxes of baby clothes that his daughters had worn a couple weeks before Jayna was born. Two friends threw a baby shower for me. I learned so much about God's provision, about the gifts that truly matter (like friendship and unconditional support), about how beautiful the gift of a new life is.

I wouldn't be who I am today if I hadn't gotten pregnant at twenty. I can't imagine how else God would have managed to break down my pride and so that I could see His hand controlling my life. And I can't imagine what my days since then would have been like. And I sure can't imagine how I'd have gotten through these past weeks of pregnancy with my fourth child without Jayna's loving hand pampering me. (Plus, I've got built-in baby-sitting!!! SCORE!!)

Anyway, I'm glad I did things wrong. Or rather, God did things just right.

Musings on the First Trimester, Plus a Recipe

2011-05-06T13:27:00.000-07:00

OK, I know you're thinking, "Long time, no hear, Joy!" and you're right! I'm so sorry!

But, baby, I'm back. And I'm in my second trimester now, and feeling like a human again!! I'm still not crazy about veggies, but I'm cooking again, and I haven't gagged in well over a week!

First I want to share with you one of the Keen Observations of Motherhood I had recently. Your three-year-old might be using your phone camera if there are pictures like this

especially if there are dozens of them that you have to flip through. *sigh* Note to self: keep iPhone out of reach of my youngest.

Anyway, since I've done this four times now, I thought I'd share a few observations on the first trimester of pregnancy. It is one of those things that can best be summed up by the words, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." If you've been there, you know what I mean. There you were, thinking, "Cute baby!" (or, ya know, maybe not exactly thinking "baby" at all -- *ahem*) and then you see the double lines on the pregnancy test and think, "Oh, now this will be fun..." and then... the world changes. Suddenly it feels as if an alien has taken over your body. Or you're a zombie, a very nauseous zombie. And you have to trust that there really is a baby in there and it's not just you being crazy, but you've got to wonder when you're fine all day and then just walking into your kitchen makes your stomach lurch. It's such a "WHEW!" moment when you see the baby on the ultrasound screen!! And then when the first trimester is over, and your eyes re-open to the world of food. There's chocolate! And hashbrowns! And taco salad! And cheese, glorious cheese! And hashbrowns! (uh, yeah, I've developed a thing for hashbrowns. So?)

Also, my husband should get a prize for putting up with me. (Oh yeah, he's getting a baby! *smacks head*) Every time I've been pregnant, he's had to put up with certain foods leaving our world entirely. For instance, with Jayna, we were basically college students. (though he was working on his Master's) We lived at Taco Bell. It was cheap, filling, and open late. Then suddenly, I couldn't even look at a Taco Bell sign. I couldn't be in the same room as someone eating it. He would drive me home from my late class, both of us on the verge of tears, him asking, "What are you actually going to eat, honey?!" and I'd go, "I have NO IDEA!!!" This time, it was basically anything in the vegetable family. Which is a kind of big deal for a vegetarian. It sure is nice -- for both of us -- when I return to "normal." :-)

Anyway, as I said, I've finally been able to start cooking again. And my friend Ann Marie brought over the yummiest cookies last week, told me they were "good for you" because they have oats and whole wheat flour, and as soon as I took one bite, I told her she had to give me the recipe. It was enough to get me into the kitchen! And definitely worth it. The recipe calls them Chocolate Chunk Cookies, but I've been thinking Chocolate Celebration Cookies is a much better name, more suited to how I feel when I'm eating them. Whatever you want to call them, bake them up because they're so delicious! And besides, the whole wheat and oats cancel out the chocolate... right???

Chocolate Celebration (or Chunk) Cookies
1 cup (2 sticks) butter
1 cup white sugar
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 T vanilla extract
2 cups flour
1 t baking soda
1 t baking powder
1 t salt
1 T cinnamon
2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats, ground into a fine powder using a blender or food processor
2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chunks.

Preheat oven to 375. Combien the butter and sugars in a large bowl and cream together using an electric mixer. Mix in eggs and vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and cinnamon. Gradually add the dry mixture to the creamed mixture, then add the ground oats. (The mixture will be very thick.) Stir in the chocolate chunks. Drop the cookie dough onto parchment-lined cookie sheets and bake for approximately 10 minutes, depending upon the size of the cookies.

We (Ann Marie and I) substituded 1 cup of whole wheat flour. She used 1 3/4 cup dark chocolate M&M's and 1/4 cup of semi-sweet chocolate chips. I used 1 cup dark chocolate M&M's and 1 cup white chocolate chips -- because I LOOOOOVE white chocolate.

Well, I will try not to go so long between postings. Hang in there for me... please!! And Happy Mother's Day, all you mamas out there!!

My Not-So-Extreme Makeovers

2011-04-21T18:56:00.000-07:00

When I was in the sixth and seventh grade, one of my favorite pastimes was to do "makeovers" on myself and my friends. Now, don't get me wrong, my friends were already quite beautiful, but our "makeovers" consisted of the heavy application of the leftover make-up (usually something garish, like blue eyeshadow) donated to me by Mom or my aunts to play with. Then we'd put on our most stylin' outfits and pose for pictures. It was tons of fun.

Anyway, fast-forward (*swallow hard*) twenty years, and I've been doing some little makeovers -- though no blue eyeshadow is involved, and we can all be quite thankful for that! No, these makeovers are of the clothing nature and come from reading books like Radical and The Hole in Our Gospel, then taking a good hard look at what I really need, versus what I just (greedily) want. I'm also challenged by certain bloggers who are trying to not buy anything new for (at least) a year. I'm happy to say that I hadn't bought anything new for several months, but I did cave a couple weeks ago and buy a few new items now that 1) summer is practically upon us already here in Florida, and I need some particular warm weather pieces, and 2) my belly is about to start a big growth spurt that my current wardrobe isn't prepared to accomodate. (What I bought was what I like to call "Works-for-maternity-but-not-necessarily-so" -- but more on that later! And, it was from the clearance rack of Old Navy, so I didn't spend much.)

My sewing machine has been sitting on its table quite forlornly, but I fought off my nausea and fatigue and finally paid some attention to it for these little projects. They really didn't take much effort, I'm happy to say, and gave me almost-instant gratification.

The rule for makeovers is that you have to take really appalling "Before" pictures. Bad lighting and in my case, an untidy house in the background, due to the fact that I'm so exhausted all the time. I think in some of the before pictures you can even see the bag of stuff I was preparing to take the donation center. Really lovely, no?

OK, so first here's this skirt that you might remember from last spring. The before picture is on this post. Really, though, it was kind of cuter than that when paired with a better top and shoes. But I just felt like it could be better. For one thing, I like skirts that hit just below the knee and I looooove eyelet. So this is what I did.

It should be pretty clear what I did -- chopped off several inches, then added a little bit of eyelet I bought at Joann. And I'm definitely happier. Plus, this is something I'll be able to wear even as my tummy gets bigger.

Not so with the next project. But anyway. I bought these at the Gap Outlet last summer and thought they were a newer, better version of my favorite jeans. However, they were just way too long. Maybe this is what they call "heel length" but let's face it, folks, I NEVER wear heels. So they just looked frumpy and sloppy. This picture doesn't really do justice for how frumpy and sloppy they looked, but anyway.

I really wanted a pair of capris, then I thought, Hey, those are too long anyway! Why don't I...? Here's my inspiration, and here's what I came up with.

Unfortunately, this picture was taken a couple weeks ago, and these capris cannot be worn comfortably any more. It's not that they're really too small -- when I'm standing up. But when I'm sitting, the button digs in exactly where my little baby bump is growing. So they're put away. Hopefully "just for the time being." :-)

Then there was this dress, purchased at Target a couple years ago.

Sure, it was a great maternity dress, but I just never felt like it looked good when I put it on. I'd worn it maybe three times since I bought it. Since I like the look of those peasant skirts that are in stores these days, and I didn't want to get rid of it because I love the feel of the fabric, I chopped, stitched and inserted elastic, and voila!

And finally, here are some pajama pants that were just a very wrong length. So I guess if I woke to my house suddenly having three inches of water on the floor, I could be thankful that at least my pants wouldn't get wet. But... yuck!! I couldn't even sleep in them knowing they were such a dorky length.

So again, I chopped and stitched and came up with these.

Sorry that this is such a terrible "After" picture, but it became clear to me today that I wouldn't get a good shot since these were my pajamas, thrown on at the end of the day and then slept in and accessorized with bedhead and bags under my eyes. I'm just not going to put them on when I have make-up on and my hair looks nice. That's too fake-y for me.

Anyway, as an aside, you may notice that my hair is not as dark as it used to be. I got highlights for my new pregnancy 'do. I'm still not sure what I think about the look, but the kids like it. They say, "You have yellow AND brown hair now, Mom! You look like all of us!!" :-)

Hopefully I'll grab the chance to blog again this weekend, but if not... Happy Easter!!!

Home Again, Home Again...

2011-04-18T12:18:00.002-07:00

Well, folks, I'm back from a most glorious vacation in Key West!

We packed the whole gang into the car and drove alllll the way down the Florida peninsula... but it was totally worth it when we got there!!

I know some people can't imagine taking kids with you to Key West, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. We're definitely more into nature and wildlife than, ummm, wild life. When I was growing up, my parents had a stick-together policy, too, and if they hadn't, I wouldn't have been able to see as much of the world as I did. It was kind of a long drive, but the last three hours are gorgeous!

And waiting for us there were quiet beaches, still, clear waters, and tons of fun!

We took a snorkeling boat early one morning.

I took the older two out to the reefs, while Matt hung around the boat with Lilly. I feel kind of bad about this. I had planned to come back and trade places with him, but you know how these things are... I mean, there were just so many beautiful fish!! And coral!! And, well, just the peace of floating on the waves, the silence out there, seven miles from land... it was wonderful.

There was a wonderful pool where we were staying... although we didn't discover just how great it was until our last day there... *sigh*. The older two spent most of their time on the rock wall -- and jumping from the top of it into the water.

Little... clung to the wall... in her lifevest. But that was just fine, too.

I honestly think I could have really enjoyed an eating tour of Key West, were it not for two minor details: first, the price. Holey moley!!! When I think of our bills leaving the restaurants we ate at, it's the only reason I'm glad we're not still there. We were staying on the base, in a condo that had a kitchen, which I'm grateful for since it meant one meal was much cheaper. And yes, I could have cooked lunch and dinner, except that I'm still so nauseous!! Especially when I'm cooking!

Unfortunately, this also meant that some food sounded really good when I was ordering it, and then less good -- much less -- when it was sitting in front of me. And since I didn't want to waste it, I choked it down... then lay on the couch very still for a while willing it to say where it was.

Of course, there were plenty of good places. I think my favorite was a little Mexican cantina off the main drag into town called Chico's. It was probably the most reasonably priced, but also, all the food was very fresh and incredibly delicious. I so badly wish I could have brought home a barrel of their salsa. And not shared it. Just thinking about it (and how inaccessible it is to me at the moment) is almost enough to make me cry.
But our last day there, Jayna and I took a long walk, meandering into shops for souvenirs and ending up at a fun little French spot called La Creperie. Highly recommend.

On the way home, we stopped at the Sea Turtle Hospital. It was pretty cool to get so close to these amazing creatures, and also pretty fun to feed them.

The only downside to that, was the 40-minute lecture we had to sit through. Some of it was interesting, but a lot was stuff we already knew... and that our three-year-old wasn't exactly ready to sit through. Especially since she'd stayed up way too late the night before and was ready for a nap. Matt and I were sitting there, desperately trying to think of ways to entertain her.

Then it was back into the car for the verrrrryyyy looooonnnnngggg drive home. We broke it up a little by staying our last night in Orlando. I'm glad we did because it was one of the nicest hotels I've ever stayed in and we got a great price through Expedia. (Also, and this I consider to be one of the best things about it, it wasn't close to Disney!! Woot-woot!) There were so many cool things about this place -- two televisions (though I'm not really into t.v.-watching, it was kind of fun to soak in the bathtub and watch the t.v. that was in the mirror), bathrobes, super-comfy beds loaded with down pillows. But the "kids' pool" which was actually four or five different pools was the best, and warranted a swim even though I really should have just put the kids to bed at that hour of the night.

Anyway, I'm home, digging out from the pile of laundry, homeschooling again, nauseously (and bravely!!) facing my kitchen again, dealing with post-vacation angst -- my own especially. But I have plenty of happy memories.

I think we all do. :-)

I've Been Reading: Our Witchdoctors Are Too Weak

2011-04-07T04:08:00.000-07:00

Unless you knew me when I was in college (and very few of you did), you probably don’t know that I am a bit of a linguistics geek. I signed up for it because I had to, and I’d heard horror stories about how boring it was, but... I LOVED it. I thought it was great fun to take apart words languages and find the patterns in them. In fact, I kind of wanted to major in it, but it wasn’t offered where I was attending.

Anyway. While I have been too exhausted and nauseous to do much else lately (yes, I'm ignoring the mess in my house as I write this), I still had the energy to read. (Thank goodness.) And when I heard about Davey and Marie Janks’ book Our Witchdoctors Are Too Weak, I was very intrigued. I pounced on the opportunity to read and review it, and I'm glad I did. It’s the story of a missionary (Davey met his wife while on the field) who went to the Wilo, a tribe deep in the Amazonian rainforest, and studied their language and culture for ten years before creating a Bible ("God's Talk") for them and teaching them about Jesus.

This book turned out to be mostly hilarious but also a little heart-wrenching. The Janks describe moments of culture shock and confusion plus the slow and painstaking process of their work – how difficult it was to see friends in the tribe die, for instance, without hearing the word of God, and to watch them live in constant fear of witchcraft. There was plenty of linguistics fun for geeks like me, but it was presented in a way that, I believe, makes a case for the importance of the study in a very approachable and understandable way.

I was impressed by the fact that these missionaries (and those who went with them) didn’t just rush in and try to teach the Bible without consideration to how it would be received without the proper context. Many missionaries, in their zeal to preach their message, have made this mistake. But the Janks and the rest of the New Tribe Missionaries that they worked with took tremendous effort to make sure the word of God would be received with understanding. (The fancy-schmancy missionary word for this is “contextualization”.)

This book is both interesting and very entertaining. Besides the linguistics aspect, I wanted to read about other missionaries and see how their experience compared to mine – though, of course, mine was as a missionary kid. The stories and anecdotes in this book took me back to the mission conferences we used to attend, where every meal shared meant stories shared. Those stories always conveyed to me the life-changing power of the Gospel, but also made me laugh – even to this day, as I remember some of them.

And that's the key -- the life-changing power of the Gospel. So often we become more concerned with not scaring people with our faith than remembering that it is a promise of salvation and hope. The Janks’ account in Our Witcdoctors demonstrates how to truly live out a life of faith that draws people in instead of scaring them off, that it's worth the time and effort to make the message understood.

I highly recommend this book. It’s funny, it’s interesting, it’s challenging. All good stuff. ☺

No Joke, Man!

2011-04-01T19:25:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know it's April Fool's Day and all, but this is true.

Baby Number 4 is arriving this fall!! I hope this explains why my posts have been so few and far between lately. I've been nauseous and astoundingly tired. I'm talking sleeping till 7, taking a nap, and needing to be in bed by 10 at the absolute latest. I don't remember being so tired with the others. Or maybe it's just that I didn't have as much responsibility before? Or maybe I just don't *remember*?? Oh well. I sure hope I get a second wind in the next trimester!!!

We are crazy excited. My girls have known for almost the entire time and kept their secret valiantly. But the day after I told them, they checked the baby's development online and then said to me, "We know it's kind of just a bunch of cells right now, but we sure love that bunch of cells!" If only everyone felt this way about precious life and could see and love the potential and promise of a child before it really takes shape!

I think first sonograms become more and more precious with each pregnancy. As I watched the screen today, I thought about how that tiny person, moving and kicking with little arms and legs that I can't yet feel, will become someone like his/ her sisters, who amaze me every day. It's just breathtaking.

Anyway, I hope you all are well! Have a great weekend!

At the Lake

2011-03-24T16:18:00.000-07:00

Ever have one of those weeks -- er, months -- that leaves you as desperate for a vacation as someone might be for a glass of water after a day in the desert? And then you realize you can't possibly take a real vacation just yet? Okay, so maybe I wasn't quite dying like some desert straggler, but the past few weeks have left me feeling beaten down and drained. So when my dear husband came home Friday and told me about a nice lake really close by that his coworkers were telling him about, my immediate response was, "What about snakes and alligators?"

Welllll.... I do live in Florida!

But apparently it is spring-fed and the water is super-clear, which are supposed deterrents to my slithery, toothy fears so Saturday morning, we headed off down the road with swimsuits, kind of wondering if this was one of those things everyone raves about and then it turns out to be so-so at best. Happily, though, it wasn't...

It was so perfect, with a roped-off swimming area with shallow, pristinely clear water and a pier for jumping.
There was a little grove of trees shading picnic tables with a small but ample playground just on the other side. The only wildlife we saw were a couple little spiders and little fish that darted through the water... and nibbled our toes when we stood still for long enough. A little "beach" of sand was right in front of the picnic table we laid claim to, and when the girls weren't swimming, they were busy making sand castles and opening a "bakery" with periodic offerings of sand cakes for us. Yum!

The girls paused in their play to take a picture of me sitting on the pier. See how perfectly clear the sky was?

Anyway, the day made for just the kind of mini-vacation I needed to face this week, although I promptly came down with The Cold of the Century. It's hurting my eyes just to look at the computer screen. Ugggghhhh...

Hopefully I'll be better by Saturday. Because guess where I'm headed?

Reading & Writing

2011-03-11T12:31:00.000-08:00

I am truly so ashamed of my recent blogging habits. Checking my stats makes me hang my head further. Bad Joy, bad, bad, bad... BUT, I have had so much going on between homeschooling, kids being sick, me under the weather, and trying to get certain last projects done on our house, it's been all I can do to keep my eyes open while I move forward. I have had the very best intentions to do some fun sewing projects. I finished one, plus a couple little things, but it's just not what I'd planned to blog about.

So anyway. Here I am. With a kind of random, bits and pieces post about reading and writing.

Fortunately, even when you have almost zero energy, reading is still feasible. Lately, I've read David Platt's Radical and Richard Stearns' The Hole in Our Gospel. Both were pretty much along the same lines. For me, neither was completely everything the best reviews claimed it would be. I guess that having grown up in Bangladesh, where for the first six years of my life, my neighbors lived in mud huts with thatched roofs, the information that seems shocking to some doesn't really seem so to me.

My critique for both books is also about the same, but in different directions. Platt doesn't seem to talk much about his own personal sacrifices, though he certainly extols the sacrifices of others. I think that if you took everything he says about what he has personally done, it would take up maybe one full page -- possibly two. I'm sure there is lots he could say, so it's kind of surprising that he doesn't. Maybe there's a good reason, but it almost seemed suspicious to me. Meanwhile, Stearns talks so extensively about what he gave up, I kind of got to where I was going, "Okay, I get it already!"

I agree very much with Stearns' theology, and it was very interesting to read about what World Vision does. The latter part of the book detailed some truly inspiring and hopeful stories. I also think that in light of the "prosperity gospel" that has been running rampant in our nation, and that I believe helped take Americans to this financial crisis, The Hole... and Radical are both desperately necessary books. I do recommend reading both for this reason.

Now to writing.

First, if you haven't noticed yet, the appearance of my blog changed earlier this year. This is because my incredibly smart, talented friend September created a website for me to help me promote my writing, and particularly, the manuscript I completed last year, and I rearranged my blog to fit it a little better. You can find it here or you can click on the "Joy Nicholas" icon just below my profile pic in the upper-right-hand corner. You can find out a little more about my book there, and also link to my recent writing. If you're in the business of shopping for a website, I highly recommend September. You can find more of her work, plus how to contact her, at www.septemberblue.com.

I have to say, this writing business is NOT easy. First off, writing has never been me sitting in a Starbucks, sipping a latte while I type wonderful prose into my sleek laptop. Yes, I have sat in Starbucks with my laptop twice in my life, but I was too nervous to have my latte close to my computer, given that I'm kind of clumsy and I had my three kids running around. And by the way, my laptop has a dent in it, from goodness-knows-where. I kind of feel like "writers" who do sit in Starbucks are posers, though, to tell the truth. Writing comes from me in the few desperate moments I steal for myself and hoping that what comes out will make sense to somebody.

Also, self-promotion does not come easily to me right now. It's required by agents and publishers, but I feel like it goes against the work God has been doing in my heart regarding my pridefulness and the value I place in myself. Our culture is all about "Look at me, look how great I am" these days, and I can fall into that trap as easily as the next person. But God has been moving in me and I feel sickened by this attitude. Still, here I am, with certain requirements if I want to give my book a fighting chance. And most of all, I hope that my blog and any writing I do -- ever -- brings glory to Him.

So anyway, all that being said, I do need your help. If you read this blog regularly (or even if you don't but you just see some potential in it), please consider "following" it or otherwise subscribing to it. (Besides I am not that tech-savvy and I need to know if everything on my blog works as it should.) I know that many more of you read it than "follow," which is okay, too, but it would be nice to have some more definite "faces" to go with numbers. The most important thing you should know about writing, especially if you're considering it, is that it comes with a LOT of rejection. So this little act of support would do wonders for filling my "tank" to keep me going in my endeavor.

Here's my latest parenting post for Sight, and (speaking of writing and agents) check out Rachelle Gardener's latest post for a good laugh this Friday.

Hope you have a great weekend!

Super-short Update

2011-03-07T17:07:00.000-08:00

Ugh!!! Once again, I have to say... It's been a week??? ALREADY???? So much has been going on -- lots of fixing up our house, some sewing, cooking, and much more -- but I am so worn out from everything!! I really can't stop to say more than "Hi" or I'll fall asleep and my face will type "ASHADFSKJLKA IEWARIUADKF NS!!" as it hits the keyboard.

But I promise, I'll write more soon. Please stay tuned... zzzzzzzzzzz....

Eating Like a Rabbit... Or Not

2011-02-28T16:06:00.000-08:00

So sorry I've been bad about posting again!! I seriously cannot believe another week has passed since my last very brief post!! Anyone else having a week (or, um, month) like that?

Anyway, I thought I'd talk a little tonight about being a vegetarian. So many people say, "Oh, I could never eat all that rabbit food. How do you do it?" It doesn't take long to see that their idea of vegetarianism means gnawing on celery all day. Well, guess what? I hate celery. Hmmm... "hate" isn't actually a strong enough word. Loathe? Despise? Abhor?

But I do think many non-vegetarians are reading health news about incorporating more vegetables into their diet and they wonder how, even if they don't want to go full on Veg. So I thought I'd start sharing a few veggie-friendly recipes here at least once a week, and hopefully give you a few fresh ideas.

The first two -- basically just easy-peasy dips -- come courtesy of my friend Shannon. Now, one of my favorite things about a Navy wife are all the wonderful friends I've made over the years, Navy or not. But one of my least favorite things is that how soon these friends leave my life, like when they up and move courtesy of the Navy, which Shannon just did on Saturday. Just to give you an idea of the heartache, let me tell you a little about Shannon. We met almost a year ago after a mutual friend had been insisting we would be good friends. I was having a rough time, and this mutual friend said I needed to go to Shannon's to have a normal Girls' Night Out as she was sure we'd hit it off.

Long story short, we really just clicked. That night was filled with laughing till my sides ached, feeling like I'd met someone I could really get along with, and... eating really yummy food. Shannon is one of those people who really likes to cook. She specializes in wonderful desserts that are probably terribly unhealthy but are so much fun to eat. We started a friendship that, though short in duration (so far) was such a wonderful blessing to my heart. As I told my husband about her, he said, "So basically... she's like you, except a really good cook and really organized."

I frowned and said, "I was going to with her hair being curly versus mine being straight, but... yeah. You're right." :-)

So that's Shannon. We drive the same kind of car, have roughly the same color hair, think a lot of the same things, and... are both vegetarian. For the past six months, we've had this fun tradition on Fridays where I pick up her eldest to go to the library for story time and art with us, and then we have lunch at her house. So one day she made this super simple hummus recipe, which is great with veggies of all kinds. Just pick your favorite!

Shannon's Hummus Recipe
1 large can of Goya (they're more tender) garbanzo beans
1/3 cup tahini
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 T olive oil
2 cloves garlic, chopped in pieces
Salt to taste
Drain beans, but reserve liquid. Put beans, tahini, lemon juice, olive oil, and garlic in blender and blend, adding liquid as needed. Stir with rubber spatula periodically to avoid adding too much liquid. Add salt to taste. Serve sprinkled with paprika and olive oil.

Shannon also shared this following veggie dip that her husband's family calls "Crack Dip" because it's so addictively yummy. And it's super simple too. Plus, since it has cottage cheese in it, I always tell myself that it can be eaten as a meal, and I sit down with just a ton of raw veggies and a container of this dip and call it lunch.

Veggie Dip
1 packet Knorr veggie soup mix
2 cups cottage cheese
1/2 cup mayo (lite is fine, and probably a good idea given my "eat healthy when you can" philosophy)
1/2 cup sour cream (again lite or fat-free is fine)
Stir packet of veggie soup mix into the remaining ingredients. Refrigerate to let flavor mix, preferably overnight. Serve with lots of veggies -- or crackers or bread, if you must. :-)

See? That's not so hard, is it? I have more recipes to come later, and I really hope you find how easy and delicious it is to eat "rabbit food"!

Till next time!! :-)

Just a Quick Note

2011-02-21T18:14:00.000-08:00

Yikes! I can't believe it's already been a week since my last post!! And since I'm trying to hold myself to posting at least once a week, I thought I'd write a quick note to say... "I'll write more later!!" :-)

Sorry, really, there are so many things I can't wait to share with you. I've found a fantastic pattern for my kiddos and I'm almost finished with the first dress from it. We've totally been changing our house around, so it's looking very different than it did just two weeks ago... and I really like it! We're also making some big decisions on the last changes we'll make to it and that's kind of exhausting, especially waiting for contractors to come give us their quotes.

Anyway, I hope that you all keep reading and come back soon. I love reading your comments, even though I can't reply to them on my blog. But I really, truly appreciate them. So keep 'em coming!!

Hope you're all rested up from the weekend, and ready for a great week. I'm not feeling very rested; in fact, I'm... exhausted. So that's why this is basically just a trailer for what's coming soon... I promise. :-)

10 Things I Love about My Valentine

2011-02-14T12:06:00.001-08:00

Today has been one of those days that has not gone according to plan AT ALL. *sigh* I was supposed to go to MOPS today, and there was supposed to be a really fun activity, but a croupy three-year-old prevented that from happening. Then the said croupy three-year-old has been uber-cranky three-year-old. All. Day. Long. *deeper sigh*

Anyway. It's nice to know that at the end of the day, I get to see my favorite Valentine, face-to-face. This definitely hasn't been the case every year, so I'm thankful for the Valentine's Days when I can say this. Of course, I could write a whole lot more than ten things about my Valentine, my best friend, my husband. But I didn't want to risk nauseating you or making you think my life is soooo perfect (lest you for some crazy reason still think that after my first paragraph), so it's just ten.

In no particular order:

1. He is just plain FUNNY! Honestly, if he put as much effort into making other people laugh as he does into making me laugh, he would probably be a famous comedian. There have been times when I've remembered a day that should have been painful, and instead, all I remember is the laughter. Like when I've been in labor. The last two times (I barely remember anything about the first time as it was all one long, painful contraction), the staff at the hospital has not believed I was in labor (at least to a point) because he was making me laugh so much. In fact, last time, as the contractions were starting to get crazy, I was actually told to go walk around the hospital instead of being admitted because the multiple peaks on the chart were mistaken for being the result of my laughter.

He has a hilarious Marlon Brando impression that he does, especially after watching The Godfather. In fact, for a few hours after he sees it (or a part of it), that's all we hear. Guess what was on Saturday evening? :-D

He comes up with the best one-liners that make me laugh even a decade (or more) after he said them. I don't know about you, but I always think of what I should have said somewhere between 3 hours to 3 years after the fact. But he has that magical skill of knowing what to say immediately. For example, my dad had one of his biggest speaking engagements ever a few years back. Just as he was about to take the podium, I called him on his cell phone... which he had accidentally left on. Later he told us that he was fumbling desperately for it in his jacket pocket, then red-faced and apologetic as he assumed the podium. Without so much as a moment's hesitation, my husband quipped, "You should have said, 'I knew God was going to give me a message for you today. I just didn't expect Him to leave it on my voicemail." :-) See what I mean?

2. He takes perseverance to a whole new level. I could go on all day with stories that illustrate this, but he is one living example of overcoming some serious obstacles just by hard work and determination.

3. He can quickly find solutions to problems as the rest of us beat our heads against the desk for hours trying to figure them out. Which is probably why he's also good at one-liners.

4. After being raised in the middle of three sisters, then having three daughters, he should have an honorary doctorate in Women's Studies. He just "gets it." Know what I mean? (Which isn't to say that there aren't those moments when he claps his hands over his ears and goes running out of the room, yelling, "EEWWW!!! Girl stuff!!! I don't need to know this!!!")

5. He doesn't let me take myself to seriously. (Okay, this isn't all about how funny he is, I promise!) Mom once told me -- before we were even married -- that one of the things she admired about us as a couple was how we played together. She told me, "That will take you very far." And she was right.

That being said, I have to confess, he sometimes makes me do the stupidest things. One time, we were on a long car trip, and he looked at me and said, "Okay, from now until we get there, we have to talk in monkey." (Think: "Ooh-ooh-ah-ah-ah!")

I looked at him and rolled my eyes. "There is no way you're going to get me to talk in monkey," I told him. Guess what I was doing five minutes later?

6. He is an amazing father. Absolutely amazing.

7. Okay, I know this sounds a little silly, but he has a nice voice. (something else my mom points out from time to time as well) If I'm very, very lucky, he sings to me. When he's flying late at night, and I'm trying to get to sleep, I think about him making his radio calls. For some reason, I can "hear" his voice this way, and it's always calms me.

8. The example he has set in forgiving certain people has served as a powerful example to me when I think I just cannot possibly forgive someone.

9. Even though I know he hates buying cards, he always buys cards for my birthday, our anniversary, and Valentine's Day. He also eats tofu even though he's not a vegetarian, turns the clock away from the bed because he knows I can't sleep when the numbers are facing me, and cleans the fridge even when there are new life forms growing in the "yogurt" at the back because he knows it's just one of those things I hate doing. (Yet I will happily clean toilets. Go figure.)

10. He has taught me the meaning of the words, "And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love." (1 Cor. 13: 13)

What about your "Valentines"?

An Anniversary...

2011-02-08T18:57:00.000-08:00

The following is a very difficult post to write, but it's about something that is critically important to me.

I just passed an interesting anniversary in my life. Eighteen years ago (plus a couple days) was the day that I was released from the hospital after spending twenty-six days under intensive treatment for being anorexic. I've discussed it a little here before, but every year that passes gives me another chance to look back, thanking God that I'm not in such a difficult place in my life and reflecting on how much I've learned since then. I've come to realize that many, many women (and men, but since I'm a woman, I'll just generalize a little here) have varying degrees of eating disorders. It's easy, I think, to point to anorexics and say, "They're crazy! I mean, who would give up eating?" But it's like the verse in the Bible that talks about pointing out the speck in someone else's eye and ignoring the plank in your own. So I thought I'd take a few minutes to share a little about my personal experience with anorexia (which I've written much more about in my book, in case you want to read more) and what (I think) I've learned.

__Anorexia isn't just about looking in the mirror and thinking, "I'm fat." It's about so much more. For me, it was looking in the mirror and absolutely hating what I saw. Hating. Feeling physically ill at the sight of my own reflection. My parents never made me feel bad about myself. My dad told me over and over again about how the first time he saw me, the words that came out of his mouth at that moment were, "She's beautiful." Mom often told me I was pretty.

But unfortunately, they weren't there on the school bus every day as the boys in my class spent the entire 30 minute drive to school and then 30 minutes back telling me how ugly I was. These boys called me "Joykenstein" and "Medusa" and said the very sight of me made them want to vomit. For a total of an hour a day, every single day, I was told how hideous I was. Then I got to school where I had no friends. The girls in my class would act nice one day and the next be as mean as snakes. I took refuge in the library where, after I'd read the books that interested me, I discovered magazines like Teen and Seventeen. I studied these so hard, trying to memorize the magic formulas in the pages that would make me beautiful and therefore loved.

As I got older, even as I moved to other schools, the taunting continued, and I read more and more. This magazine told how to lose five or ten pounds, that one listed the calories and fat in items such as bagels or avocados or (oh the horror!!!) peanut butter. One even suggested that any time I was tempted to eat, I should just picture that food as a glob of fat on my waist. When I found myself in a very fragile emotional state (more is in my book) the year I turned fourteen and was emotionally abused by my dorm parents at boarding school, something clicked in my mind. I might not be "fat", but to be loved, I decided I needed to lose weight. It was the one thing I could control, the "magic formula" I'd been seeking. I thank God every day for opening my eyes to what I was doing to myself, even though by then, I had no idea how to fix it.

__The day I left the hospital was only the beginning of an uphill fight. Fortunately, my experience there -- the hours of lying in bed, for instance, because walking would put too great a strain on my heart -- made me certain I would fight myself if it meant not going back. The doctors told me I'd return at least once, and they told my parents to expect it and watch me vigilantly. But I didn't. I didn't look in the mirror on the days I was hating myself, but I kept eating. Still, it was all about control. I tried to eat pre-packaged food so that there wouldn't be one extra calorie over what I needed. There was a constant tally in my mind of what I'd eaten and how many calories it came to, and I'd sometimes lie in bed at night, panicking over the thought that someone had possibly snuck in extra calories -- like substituted regular salad dressing instead of the fat-free I'd ordered.

Even after I was declared "healthy" five months after my release from the hospital and no longer required to go to the outpatient clinic every other week, I struggled with my desire to control my food. It was a full year after that before I finally stopped counting the calories, and freed myself to enjoy food for what it was -- a cappuccino, for instance, creamy and warm, or a TimTam (an Australian chocolate cookie) that crumbled and melted into my mouth.

I LOVE food now (as long as it's vegetarian), and there are days when I wonder how I ever could have done what I did eighteen years ago. But then I hear all the other women talking. "Oh my gosh, I'm so fat now," or "You'd better not eat that. It's got cream in it." I remember one woman/ sort-of-friend who called me one night several years ago just as I was popping a frozen pizza into the oven. When I mentioned this, she gasped.

"Joy. You're eating pizza?" she said. "Don't you know how bad that is for you?" Granted, she didn't know about my "crash diet" from ten years earlier, but still. Cheese pizza? She said it like I was conjuring up the devil himself. Her comment made me realize how many women vilify food and struggle with their own healthy self-images.

__ Eating disorders are really another form of addiction. As I said earlier, I thought that losing weight was a magic formula for being loved. Counting calories became a way of controlling my world; the constant hunger in my stomach (yes, it was there) made me feel like I was doing something right, it gave me a certain "high". I thank God for showing me how wrong I was -- that, as with probably all other addictions, it would lead to destruction.

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of living in a world where every time I check out at the grocery store I have to pass the pages that show air-brushed models with plastic surgery of all kinds behind the bold words, "LOSE FIFTEEN POUNDS THIS MONTH!!!" (or the like) I'm tired of hearing the self-criticism that women voice every time they get together. I want my daughters to know that the magic formula "starving yourself = beauty= love" is one that will lead to death, or at least years of pain and suffering.

What can we do? I've mentioned most of this before, but here it is again:

If you know someone who is recovering from an eating disorder, be supportive. Be loving. Ask honestly how she's (yeah, just generalizing here, sorry) doing and be ready to support her. Help her see the beauty in her and talk about the ways you think you value her as a person.

But preventatively? I can't say this enough, really, but model healthy habits for your kids (or, if you're not a parent, anyone who might be looking up to you). Don't vilify food to them. Teach them to fill up on "the good stuff" (veggies, proteins, healthy carbs) but allow for desserts. Ice-cream is ALWAYS in our freezer, and I tell the kids that once they've eaten the good stuff till they're almost full, they're welcome to have a scoop. Exercise, even if it's just ten minutes a day. Really. At the very least, you'll feel better about yourself.

But here's something else. Remember that old song, "Oh be careful little eyes what you see?" I've mentioned before that I don't buy women's magazines any more. I don't feel like my kids need to have the messages in them lying around the house to soak into their sponge-like minds. We don't watch a lot of television, either.

Also, be careful what you say. I think this is especially important to remember around holidays (like Valentine's Day, for instance). When you eat chocolate, for instance, don't talk about how terrible it is for you in front of your kids. Don't say things like, "I'm going to have to starve myself for a week to make up for this!" When you're looking in the mirror and your kids are there with you, don't say, "Gosh, I'm so fat." Remember as I said a few posts back, you are the face of God to your children.

Even if you don't have kids, think about what you're saying in front of your friends. You might think you know them well, but you don't know what they might be going through. When I weighed 91 lb's, my roommate who was the sort of perfect-at-everything, model citizen type said to me, "I don't think there is such a thing as too skinny." Unfortunately, there are so many women who would speak from the grave if they could that "too skinny" is possible and deadly. My roommate's words stayed with me. In the moments when I thought about eating more, I remembered her saying that and thought, "She's perfect and everyone likes her, so... she must be right."

Ultimately, I'm the one responsible for my actions, and I know that I've said hurtful things to other people. The memory of these words is something that truly grieves me even now. But knowing how dangerous my words can be has pushed me towards more self-control, even when it's difficult. I hope and pray that no one reads the lies I've described above and uses them to hurt his or herself.

Writing this post, as painful as it's been, has been done because I want so badly for things to change. I want my kids to enjoy food in a healthy way and to look in the mirror, even on the days when for whatever crazy reason they don't like their reflection, and be able to love themselves. Is that too much to ask?

The Family Circus

2011-02-03T11:16:00.001-08:00

It's always a little funny to me what motivates my kids. Basically, it all boils to down to a little hopefully-friendly competition. Sometimes it comes from me and Matt -- i.e. "Wow, Jayna, you really did a nice job tidying up the living room!" But it also comes from one sister to the other.

Like yesterday. This is, verbatim, what I heard from the back seat when I picked up my eldest from dance.

"Jayna, guess what? You missed your chance. I'm the first daughter to be able to do a front handspring."

So let me give you the background on this story. Long, long ago, (not quite when dinosaurs roamed the earth, but long ago) before I started having the lower back issues I have, before I ever got pregnant with my little angels, when I weighed about 70 pounds less than I do now, I used to be able to do some acrobatics, like walkovers and even aerial cartwheels. (Like I said, this was a long time ago!)

I am maybe a little too proud of the fact that I can still manage a pretty good round-off, and regular old cartwheels on terra firma are no sweat, but the days of walkovers and aerials are looooong gone. Actually, my last aerial cartwheel, I think, was performed on the "parents' night" of our gymnastics team at the American International School in Dhaka, and I panicked and screwed up. The moment is forever immortalized in the yearbook, me upside-down and airborne, my coach beside me, and a look of complete terror on my face. (My parents have this yearbook at their house, so you do not get to see it! Ha!)

But it's really fun to see the awe on my kids face when I tell them what their ol' mom was once able to do. And they've gotten really determined to be able to do some acrobatics themselves, no help at all from me. As a matter of fact, I almost wish they wouldn't. Still, they've both been a little scared to try acrobatics, which is hard because their dance classes require a little basic acrobatic work. But yesterday, Skyler up and decided she was going to do a walkover... and she did! I said, "Wow! Great job, honey!" etc., but nothing at all like what she said to her sister a few minutes later. I could tell, though, that she felt an enormous amount of pride at this accomplishment, so I didn't say anything about showing off. Instead, I just listened... and watched.

I think what you see here is healthy competition at its best. My eldest is terribly self-motivated... most of the time. But sometimes, she needs to see that her little sister is doing something just fine before she can try it. And that's what this is. Pushing each other to do a little better, discovering you can do something because someone you love and trust is able to do it. Of course, it's a terribly thin line between healthy competition and envy or pride, or exploitation of another person because you know they look up to you.

But sometimes... don't we all need that healthy little push to try something new? Or to do something a little better? I don't think I'll ever be motivated to keep a perfectly tidy house (I'm sorry, but that line about shoveling snow in a blizzard is only too accurate!). Still, I've found as I get older that the friends I'm closest to are not the ones that allow me to stay the same, whether they know it or not. They accept me, no doubt, and love me. But I find myself wanting to spend more time with the ones that push me -- just a little, though they probably don't even realize it -- to see if I can't do better.

So let's hear from you! (Please?) What motivates you -- in a healthy way? Do you need healthy competition or can you always motivate yourself? In what areas do you wish you had more motivation?

Looking Forward...

2011-02-01T18:19:00.000-08:00

Well, my parents have left, and once again I am a mere mortal who must clean her own kitchen and cook without the cheerful conversation of her mother. *sigh*

We had a great time while they were here, though. This past weekend, we took a little day trip down to Paynes Prairie outside Gainesville. It was interesting and beautiful -- quiet and brown this time of year, but still definitely worth the trip, and I think we'll go again sometime.

I didn't get a picture of the coolest Coke machine I've ever seen, but it was in the Firehouse Subs across the street from UF. Most of us had eaten at Chipotle (I heart Chipotle!) but Matt had gotten a sandwich, and when he came back and told us about it, we all decided we needed a Coke (or similar) as well. I mean, you could get Caffeine-Free Diet Raspberry Coke from it! How cool is that?! Apparently there are only a handful of them in the whole state, but this is definitely one of those innovations that I can really see taking off.

Anyway, here's a picture of the five of us, and... well, this shows how hard it is to get a decent picture of five people, especially when three of them are under twelve. But it's always kind of cool -- for me, at least -- to see how different each of my kids are. I see Matt and myself in them but don't really think that they look like each other. And that's something that I see as being great -- evidence of God's creative power. I remember bringing our dark-haired, dark-eyed youngest home from the hospital to her fair-haired sisters and telling Matt in the car, "It's like we rolled the dice three times and got three completely different combinations."

One of these days, maybe we'll pay for pros to do a "real" picture... but then again, this is as real as it gets, baby! You can see us and all five of God's wonderfully, uniquely-created personalities! :-)

Well, I realize this isn't exactly my most thought-provoking post, but hey, it's been a long day. And I miss my parents. But instead of wallowing right now, basically, I'm trying to look forward... to a lot of changes (hopefully good), to some fun projects, to some adventures, big and small. Thanks for coming along for it!

Love in Translation

2011-01-27T04:56:00.000-08:00

{As I was scanning this picture, Lilly came up and said, "There's Mommy and me!" I asked her which one was Mommy, and she pointed to Mom. Then I asked where she was, and she pointed to me. Hmm... there are definitely some similarities! But, no, this is me -- in the doll stroller -- and Mom, when I was about six months old, and we lived in Bangladesh.}

My mom is here right now for a visit. She came for just a few days around Christmas, but now she's been here a whole week (!!!) and doesn't leave till Sunday! I'm so happy. (Dad has been here, went north for some meetings, and will be back for the weekend.) I love having Mom here. She's one of my best friends -- helpful, funny, a good listener, a certified massage therapist so also very healing, and... well, no one sees me in the same light that she does. If I beat her at a game of cards, it's because of my intellectual prowess that she has been so utterly convinced of for my whole life. If I cook dinner, she marvels at my culinary skills. If I sit down to play the piano, she exclaims over my musical talent. Basically, where others -- and certainly I -- see messes and failure or at best, halfway-decent performances, she sees greatness, or at the very least, lots of potential. I might be average on my good days, but when Mom's around, I'm a super star.

This week, I started reading Anne of Green Gables to my girls. I read it when I was younger, but as with so many things, different aspects jump out to me as a mother. We were reading about her first bedtime prayer at the Cuthberts'. This is what it says:

"[Marilla] had intended to teach Anne the childish classic, 'Now I lay me down to sleep." But... it suddenly occurred to her that that simple little prayer, sacred to white-robed childhood lisping at motherly knees, was entirely unsuited to this freckled witch of a girl who knew and cared nothing about God's love, since she had never had it translated to her through the medium of human love."

This is what my job boils down to. What my mother understood for my whole life was that she (and my father) represented to me the face of God. Robert Hanlon, my English teacher in my last year of high school, wrote us a benedictory essay (though since it was public school, it wouldn't really be called that) where he said, basically, these same words -- "Don't make your face a canvas for someone else's idea of beauty," he said, "because yours will be the first face of God to your child." While so often it feels as though I'm folding laundry, breaking up fights, wiping noses (or other parts), cooking, cleaning (or trying to), these words rekindle my mission. They bring my focus back to what it should always be.

I hope and pray they do the same for you.

Some Changes??

2011-01-23T18:43:00.000-08:00

Well, if you happened to log onto my blog yesterday, or maybe got something in your reader saying I was shutting down, let me explain. I was checking on my blog's stats and found what appears to be traffic referred from a highly questionable website in a country that is not the one I live in. I have friends in a lot of places throughout this world, but I'm pretty sure I have no friends in this place that are associated with this type of thing. Sorry to be vague, but I don't want to type anything else here that might entice more traffic from this type of place. And I think you can figure it out. I can't imagine what on my blog would have attracted this attention, and that scares me even more. It kind of sent me into a panic, and I was ready to quit blogging entirely, and I wrote a quick post to that effect.

After calming down (a little -- a very little) an hour or so later, I deleted the post.

But, I'm still not sure what exactly the future of my blog is. I've been thinking about changing it anyway, perhaps splitting it into two -- one that focuses more on my writing and craft projects and a private one that is more of my family? The problem with that is, my writing (and sewing and pretty much everything I do) and family are inextricably linked. Even if I don't name family members here, they are often named in my published writing, so I wonder, Is there a point in panicking over this? Or do I quit writing entirely (at least for anyone but myself)? However, my family is of utmost importance to me. And I would do that for them.

So for now, I'm trying to figure this out a little. Once again I'm torn by what I think is a useful way to spend my time and wondering what is best for my family, by my desire for privacy versus my desire to share what I'm discovering and learning and wrestling with. There you have it: me, confused and a little terrified. And trying my best to do what's right.

100th Post!! (Just Sayin')

2011-01-19T10:28:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my 100th post on this blog! I have debated all week about how to treat this. Free coffee for everyone? Um, no, that doesn't really work in Blog World. Should I write a list of 100 things (things I like, things I hate, great books, etc.)? Sounds tedious for both of you and I. Link to 100 things on the web? Again, good (possibly) but no. Promises of great money, health, and good luck if you follow my blog from this point on? Uh... can't do that..

So this is how I'm treating it: I'm just saying this is my 100th post, and then moving on. Because there's a lot going on and my thoughts are pretty scattershot at the moment, I am going to do a little round-up of my life at at the moment. So this is the "just sayin'" list of randomness in my life.

___It occurred to me that I sewed my first skirt on my first sewing machine almost exactly two years ago. Lately, I've been doing some sewing, all pajamas, all flannel... all for everyone but me. (It's okay, I have two pairs of flannel pj's). I mentioned J's, for which I used Simplicity 3987. It turned out so cute. She picked the fabric from Wal-Mart, and at first I was a little reluctant, not sure of how it would look, but now I think it was a fantastic choice! I liked this pattern a lot, it just took more time than I really had just before Christmas. I did everything in a size 10 for her, which looks a little small on the pattern-back, but this is not my first sewing project, and I've learned the hard way. But I did extend the length to more of a size 12 length, and I think that was definitely a good idea.

I made pajamas for my husband, but he will never in a million years model them for my blog, I'm afraid. S and L both got McCall's Easy Stitch-n-Save 5959. I thought this could be really cute, and... it is, except for the fact that the nightgowns are ENORMOUS!!! Granted, the one I made for Lilly is XS, which is "size 3-4," and she just turned three. But it was literally falling off of her. I had to make adjustments to the neckline, and it looks pretty sketchy if you look closely at the garment. Still, I think she looks cute in anything!

I made S's second, and she is in the larger range of her size... but it was still pretty big! But, oh well, she also still looks adorable.

A word about the fabric: I know it's busy, but I love it! And I am one of those girls who never met a neutral she didn't like! But having kids has definitely made me enjoy the color in life, and when I saw this fabric at Joann I was actually disappointed because there was only just enough to make this one gown. As you may know if you've been reading this a while, we have a dachshund (supposedly a mini, but hello, he's 15 pounds!!), and whenever we see anything with dachshunds we (rather impulsively) buy it. This fabric has dachshunds on it! How cool is that??

Some future projects I'm thinking of are Make It Perfect's Versatile Wrap skirt or one of My Favorite Things skirts. Or then again, maybe Dana's circle skirt?

___ I don't think I've mentioned it here before, but I've been homeschooling J this year. I don't mean to be rude, but I am not saying this to invite a debate about whether or not we should homeschool. I listened to the nay-sayers for far too long, and I could launch into quite a diatribe here about why I'm doing it... but I will spare you (as long as you do the same :-)). Anyway. We were using one program, but have been growing increasingly dissatisfied with it. So I think we're going to switch to the classical-style curriculum discussed in Susan Wise Bauer and Jessie Wise's The Well-Trained Mind. So I've been reading that lately, and also Free Range Learning by Laura Grace Weldon and Homeschooling for the Rest of Us by Sonya Haskins. Both are great. Oh! And also, The Ultimate Book of Homeschool Ideas, which includes great stuff even for L's age. If you're considering educational option, I highly recommend all four of these books. But I've been busy, busy, busy trying to read all these books and cram all the information into my head. S is still in public school, but I'm thinking about switching her to homeschool too.

___ My middle girl turned eight!!! Where has the time gone?? Every year I marvel about how the time has flown since she popped into my life (almost literally!) ten days early on the day her baby shower was scheduled. She is such a sweet, funny kid, and she also has a big, huge heart. We had her birthday party at one of those bounce house places, and she insisted on inviting this one boy in her class who I've heard is a bit of a troublemaker because, in her words, "no one ever invites him to their parties." See what I mean? So sweet!

___ Here's a link to some of my recent writing -- my December essay for Sight Magazine.

Okay, well, that's about all the "just sayin'" I can do for now! I hope you keep reading for the next 100, and please leave comments! I love to hear from people who read this!

Happiness is...

2011-01-12T04:55:00.000-08:00

This year has not gotten off to the most relaxing start. I don't want to bore you with all the annoying little details, especially since some of what I've been worrying about might not amount to anything at all. Still, I wish I could chart for you the number of hours so far this year that I have laid awake in bed when I should be sleeping, and the corresponding ibuprofen and caffeine I've consumed in comparison to last month.

For instance, let me tell you what happened last week. I live in a beautiful neighborhood that I really do love. When you turn off the main road, it's like driving into the 1950's, when most of the homes here were built. There are wide lawns and kids playing, tall trees, neighbors that wave and smile and happily keep an eye on things and bring cookies and such "just because."

But there are also a collection of Golden Retrievers and Labs that are given roaming privileges of the entire neighborhood. They don't exactly look like menaces to society... but they are. Because, for one thing, dogs don't use toilets, and they sure don't flush. They do kind of have bathrooms -- for instance, the fire hydrant... which is on the lower corner of my lawn. And immediately after doing what they like to do on fire hydrants, they're compelled to walk a few feet from it and do bigger, more serious business.

So last week, I had two ninety-pound Labs on my lawn. Unneutered male labs, one that fathered the nine puppies my neighbor's dog had Christmas a year ago (Surprise, neighbors!!!). Though TimTam, my Australian shepherd is neutered, he really doesn't like these two hoodlums being on our lawn. (It might have to do with the fact that he's kind of "let himself go" since his chances of getting lucky with the ladies have been decimated and put on 15 lbs.) He'll sit at one of our two picture windows and bark at them, and if they're there when the door opens he tries his best to bolt out and chase them off his -- I mean, our -- property.

Which is what happened when S's playdate came over last Monday. They were there, the door was open for a minute, and he ran out with his "big boy" bark. There was a little tussle, and between my shouts and his barks, the dogs went running off. He came swaggering back in, and I noticed there was blood around his eye. It turned out that one of the other dogs bit his eye and gave him a corneal abrasion. So I had to head off to the vet to get him antibiotics, and he had to wear "the cone of shame" again for a week to keep from scratching off his cornea as it healed.

Then yesterday, while it seems like it should be the least of my worries, I had to get a crown replaced. But I hate, hate, HATE having dental work done. This tooth has been nothing but trouble for almost ten years. I had a cavity in it, and the dentist filling it slipped and hit a nerve... and 1 1/2 years later (!!!) someone finally realized my nerve was infected and I needed a root canal. BUT, I have problems with regular novacaine, so I had to have something that didn't work very well or last long. It was horribly painful, to the point that I have to say I would rather go through natural childbirth again than endure that again. Then the crown that was put on that tooth turned out not to be put on right so parts of my tooth were exposed and I had a food trap beside it. So I had to go plop down hundreds of dollars yesterday for what I consider torture. I mean, no, I didn't have those awful little files stuck into my tooth root, but it still was pretty painful and the sounds... oh, the sounds!! All that grinding and drilling and sanding... I almost threw up about three times during the experience yesterday just because of the noises the dentist was making in my mouth.

Anyway, not to sound like Pollyanna here, but both these experiences taught me something about happiness, and clinging to the good that comes your way. Yesterday, happiness came as I went to pay for the work done. I'd been told at my check-up how much it would cost, but the girl at the desk informed me it would be twice that. Now, part of why I'd been dreading this was because of the cost; I can think of much better ways to spend that kind of money and with the reality that we'll soon be putting our house on the market again (yup, that's one of my awake-at-three-a.m. worries), I don't want to have to spend money on stupid things like dental work, especially this it wasn't exactly my fault to begin with. But when she told me I owed twice as much as I expected, I asked -- with my face half-numb, trying not to drool -- as coolly as I could muster, "Are you sure? I was told it would be $X." She got up to check with the office manager, and I stood there praying. When she came back, she said, "You're right. You only owe $X."

Now, I still wasn't exactly happy about having to pay $X, but when you realize how much more you could be paying, $X looks pretty darn good!!! I remember the day I was flying back to Spain and had a day and part of a night to wait in an airport with two kids who'd had the stomach flu all night and still had it and I thought my day was about as low as it could be. And then I saw someone carrying one of those "organ transport" boxes onto a plane. I realized that my day actually could be going even worse. Like that day, I realized at the dentist's office that... it could be worse.

And as for TimTam, there was something about caring for him that did my soul some good. I can't do anything about the rest of my worries and stress except pray, which is invaluable, no doubt, but not always showing tangible, day-to-day results. But putting the medicine in his eye three times each day and seeing it actually improve and heal reminded me that the things I do each day do, in fact, matter, that I can improve the lives around me, however incrementally.

Anyway, sometimes at the end of the day, I like to just turn on some good music and look through my favorite pictures (of my family, of course). So with that in mind, here are a few pics from our little getaway.

So how is the New Year treating you so far?

Somebody Bibimbop Me!!

2011-01-06T12:58:00.000-08:00

Now for Part Two of my recent adventures!

A few weeks ago, if you'd asked me how I felt about bibimbop, I would have assumed you were having trouble pronouncing that old Hansen song. But now I'm a few weeks older and wise, and I can tell you that I very much enjoyed my first bibimbop experience!

So you're might be wondering what the heck I'm talking about. That's reasonable enough. We were in Atlanta for the night, en route to our home, and... hungry. My husband watches the Food Network a lot (in fact, that and HGTV are probably the only two channels we actually use in our cable package), and he'd seen this episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate where Alton Brown was talking about a place in Atlanta called Hankook Taqueria.

"Hankook Taqueria?" I repeated. "Okayyyyy...." I Googled it on my iPhone, breathing those deep sighs I just have to breathe when my husband suggests eating somewhere that I don't want to try. It was described as "Korean-Mexican" cuisine, which also kind of made me scratch my head, sort of like wearing flowers and plaid. There were lots of comments on Urban Spoon -- some raving about it, others... not so, but none of them pro-vegetarian. I kept thinking, But I'm so hungry!! What if they don't have anything vegetarian? It wasn't far from our hotel, so we hopped in the car and maneuvered through the rush hour traffic, and it wasn't long before we were pulling into a small parking lot in a rather industrial area. My skepticism was reaching an all-time high.

We walked in and found it to be very basic and unassuming, lacking a little in the "character" department. But it was fairly empty, given that we were there at the, um, "eating with kids or old people" hour, and that was an automatic plus for both of us. A delicious aroma filled the air, too, so when Hubby gave the "Stay or go?" look, I nodded approvingly.

I didn't realize until there was a full vegetarian menu, though, until it was almost time to order, but we made some quick decisions. Bibimbop is one of those words that you can't really say without smiling. Know what I mean? Matt ordered the carnivores' version, and I ordered the vegetarian. We got a quesadilla for the younger ones, and our eldest had "tofu tacos." Our food was on our table in just a few minutes.

So what is bibimbop? Well, there was a bed of steamed rice, and then little piles of the following around it: bean sprouts, lightly sauteed spinach and zucchini with some kind of delicious marinade, tofu that was cooked with soy sauce and rice vinegar (this was the beef in Matt's case), then tossed in sesame seeds, and marinated button mushrooms. A fried egg sat on top of it all, and over that was a huge scoop of chili sauce that we stirred in over everything.

It was SO good! Oh, my mouth is watering just at the memory. It's sad that I live as far from Atlanta as I do, because this would definitely become a regular thing for me. The Food Network has some recipes for bibimbop, and they look yummy, but not quite like Hankook's. I am so addicted.

Anyway, that's bibimbop is, and why I'm hooked on it.

The next day we went to the World of Coca-Cola before coming home, for 90 minutes of hard-core, multi-sensory Coke advertising. The best part of that experience was this:

Also, watching my youngest fall in love with caffeinated sugar water

which was fun until she got tired and was still crazy hyper.

After we got home, I came across a random news article about food trends for 2011, and Korean tacos was at the top! I'm not usually a very trendy person, but having had this experience, I can't say I'm surprised. But what I'd really like right now is more bibimbop!

Be It Ever So Humble...

2011-01-02T09:47:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, everyone! How did you celebrate? We... (ready for this?? Brace yourself!)... went to bed. Seriously. I used to think it was sad not to go out on New Year's Eve or not to be celebrating with a big group of people. Now, I think there is no better idea than to be well-rested on the morning of Jan. 1st. My dear eleven-year-old thinks this is cruel and unusual torture. Oh well, maybe someday she will see our wisdom.

We did, however, go to Blue Springs State Park earlier on New Year's Eve to see some 1,000-lb. vegetarians: manatees. (*1,000 lb's is average, there are some larger.) I have lived in Florida for over 1 1/2 years all together, and never before had seen a manatee. Not that I haven't spent many hours (really) staring into the tanin-stained water of the St. John's in all the places people swore that the manatees would be. I was pretty skeptical about this expedition, especially since it was almost a two-hour drive from here. But, oh my, did we see the manatees! So many of them! And a couple gators, too. It was well worth it.

Anyway, before I go on with my post, I want to clarify something. I wrote about "the Voice from Heaven saying" but by this, I do not mean a big, booming voice like in The Ten Commandments. I don't really think God speaks that way. It's more like a stirring or assurance in my heart. Sometimes it startles me because of what it reveals (the true ugliness of my sinful nature, for instance, or what my thoughts are actually saying), but that day -- last Sunday -- it was more like a sweet, heavenly hug, if that makes sense. A friend of mine was telling me yesterday about something she and her husband had prayed for, and how God had answered in such a special, specific way, it was in her words, "like a kiss." And I thought that was a beautiful way to put it.

Furthermore, I wanted to clarify that because I know so many people who say "God told me..." and then they proceed to go on to say something that God would never say -- for instance, that they should be married to someone else. Or they use it to spiritually abuse someone. Anyway, the pastor of our church was talking about this today, and I really felt like I needed to clarify my words because I don't want to set up any false expectations for anyone or in any way lead you astray. I hope I've straightened that out.

But now to continue with my post. People often wonder why we travel so much with our kids. Well, first off, it's kind of necessary with our lives as they are. Basically, though, I believe that traveling teaches kids so much. For example, the poem "Paul Revere's Ride" is wonderful, but to read it in a courtyard outside the Old North Church in Boston brought me to tears and made the words so much more alive to my children. Also, I sometimes wonder how much we'd have to talk about if we didn't travel with our kids. My granddad taught me that everything that happens on a journey, good or bad, is bound to make a great story.

So with that in mind, let me tell you more about our trip. We left much later than we'd planned, and got to Atlanta around nine at night. The girls were exhausted and crabby, and I was getting there, when we checked into the Country Inn and Suites. Now, we've had about a 50-50 experience with this establishment. It's nice because five of us can still stay in one room, but some of them... well, I've stayed in nicer Motel 6's and paid a whole lot less. So we checked in and made our way up to the sixth floor, where our room was. We opened the door. It was AWFUL. There were towels on the floor and the beds were unmade. We backed out and Matt said, "I'll take care of this." A few minutes later he was back with another key, and we let ourselves into Room #2. This "non-smoking" room reeked of cigarettes, and with Jayna's and my asthma... it was a no-go. This time, the manager came up with us. He opened the door to Room #3. By this point, I felt like we were in a game show where -- "Tell 'em what they've won, Bob!!" "A night in a semi-decent hotel that they are paying for!!!!" (Crowd, um... goes wild???) We didn't even see the inside of this room. He just closed the door and said, "Let's try another floor."

Finally, we got into an apparently clean room, but I still did a check of the mattresses because, frankly, I don't want bedbugs to be one of the experiences we have. But my kids have the best attitude. The manager said he'd give us a $10 (woo-hoo!) discount, and the girls' faces lit up when they saw, drumroll please, the pad of paper and pen on the desk. They said, "See, Mom? God worked it out! We got ten dollars off, and a pad of paper and a pen!" Seriously. This is what makes them happy. I think I used to be the same, but maybe I can re-learn from them.

Anyway, the next day we drove up to Tennessee to our rented cabin. It was a little strange. The cabin itself was beautiful and clean, and surrounded by many other beautiful cabins, but we had to drive past some really sad, dirty, and poverty-stricken places to get to it. Still, we were determined to have a good time and be thankful for the opportunity for R&R, and so as Matt brought in the bags, the girls and I explored our new digs. They raced upstairs to their bedroom and excitedly shouted about the air hockey table and the hot tub. Our room had a king-size brass bed and an enormous jacuzzi tub right in the room. I went, "Oooh... that looks nice," and then I turned the corner and found this trio peering over the edge of the tub.

First, I had to stifle a scream. I'm the kind of mom that has steered her kids away from dolls with eyes that blink. After I recovered from my terror, though, I started laughing so hard I almost fell over. I ran out to get Matt and we were just dying. It was like the owners of the cabin were saying, "Lest anyone start hearing Marvin Gaye sing while in this tub, we have these three to stand guard."

My (rather paranoid) husband thought maybe they were hiding cameras. I knew I wouldn't be able to even sleep in that room knowing there were three pairs of beady, unblinking eyes staring through the darkness. (Okay, I admit, I'm just as crazy.) So this little trio went "into time-out" for the duration of our stay. :-)

Anyway, there's more to tell (part 2 coming) about our adventure. The cabin was great, the snow was fun to play in, but honestly, the happiest part of this trip was pulling back into our driveway, knowing we were home.

And sometimes, I think, you really need that.

Prayer and Snowflakes

2010-12-30T04:47:00.001-08:00

Not too long ago, I was having a conversation with someone who claimed that prayer should only be lifted when it's about "the big things." And by that, this person meant issues like cancer, human trafficking and modern slavery, jobs where a whole family might starve if there isn't income, global warming, and so on.

I disagreed. To me, this is kind of like those people who only buy lottery tickets when the prize money is more than a certain amount. I mean, yes, we should be definitely praying about these things, but if we are in a personal relationship with God, shouldn't we feel like we can come to Him with any requests? He is the creator of the entire universe, but that's just it. How, knowing that, can we ever come to Him? At what point can we decide "This is worthy of God's time"? And if we can't, how can we have a personal relationship with Him?

But the truth is, I have a hard time knowing what is okay to ask of God. I know that in the Lord's Prayer, we are told to ask for "our daily bread," and nothing more. But I also know that Jesus said He would give to those who asked, just as a father would give to his child. I believe that we're expected to have a level of personal responsibility and be caretakers of what we've been given, but I also know that Jesus didn't hold up the boy's five loaves and two fish and say, "See? This kid was prepared! Y'all are just out of luck!" Instead, He blessed it and fed the multitudes.

In practice, I tend to oscillate between completely selfish "HELP ME NOW, GOD!" prayers and "Soooo... You know, um, if it's all right with You, could you think about helping little ol' me out here if You're not too busy with all the other stuff You're dealing with?" Neither attitude seems right.

I had to consider all this the past couple weeks as I heard my daughters praying for snow. We went up to the Smokies for three days, and they prayerfully watched the entire ten-day weather forecast, letting me know if there was a chance of "the white stuff" during our stay. Then I heard the disappointment in their voices as the likelihood for it became less and less and disappeared all together. There was some snow on the ground that we got to go sledding on, but despite the sincere prayers that were lifted, it never snowed. And there is just something special -- at least for my family, not having experienced it much -- about the sight of falling snow.

The last night we were at the cabin, the girls asked me to tell the story of the time I prayed for snow and it did. I'd told them the story before, but I took a deep breath, and told them again -- how I was seven years old and my missionary parents were speaking at a church on a reservation in Arizona, how it was after Mother's Day, but a cold wind was blowing, and I told everyone I saw that it was going to snow the next day. No one believed me, so I prayed that night. The next morning, I woke up to brilliant sunshine, but Dad was calling me to the window, saying, "Look! You were right! Your prayers were answered! It snowed!" Then it snowed three more times that day!

The girls prayed their snow prayers again that night with renewed fervor, and I could almost feel their heartache the next day, when it was warmer than it had been, and it started to rain -- rain!! -- and melt all the snow that was left. We drove home, and I told them how sorry I was that it hadn't snowed, but to be grateful that at least we got to play in it. Then Christmas Eve, they prayed their snow prayer again... even though we were back in Florida. When they had said "Amen" I took a deep breath and sighed heavily.

"You guys, it's supposed to be 60-something degrees tomorrow. You know that, right?" They nodded solemnly. "And we live in Florida, and I think I've heard that the last time it snowed here was thirty years ago." They nodded again.

"But it would just be so, so nice, Mom," they said.

I kissed their cheeks and told them I understood, but my thoughts went back to my conversation about prayer and my own uncertainties about what I can and cannot ask the Creator for. I thought about the prayers they've lifted, for sick schoolmates and teachers, for friends whose dad is unemployed, for more family to come out and visit, for the chance to spend another day with their best friends in California. How faithful they are in their prayers, even when they aren't answered the way they want! How perfect is their "childlike faith!"

But I also thought about my prayers this past year: for my uncle, who passed away in October, and yet I prayed for him so diligently for so long, that every day I have to stop myself from praying for him still. I've prayed about my book, that I would find an agent and publisher, and that someone -- or rather, lots of someones (let's be honest here) -- would want to buy it. But as I read about the book industry and how tough it is these days to get anything published, as I remember so clearly the stack of rejections I've already accrued just for my essays, I think it might be better to pray for something like a pink elephant in my backyard. Or snow here in Florida. Sometimes, as I look at all my blessings, I feel like it's selfish, silly, or superfluous to pray for anything else. Sometimes, I just want to ask God, "Is it really still okay to ask?" And then I feel embarrassed by this question.

The next day -- Christmas -- was sunny and fairly warm, and like I've said, plenty of fun. That night it started raining, but it was a warm rain. The forecast high for the following day was in the mid-40's -- much cooler, but not exactly "snow weather." When we woke up Sunday morning, it felt very cold. I looked at the weather forecast, and it was in the upper 30's. Ha, I thought, those weather forecasters are always wrong. But I didn't think for a second that it would snow.

"It's raining again," Jayna said, looking out the window. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her staring. "That's weird," she said, in an oddly distant voice, "it almost looks like snow." I glanced up from what I was doing, sure that it was just wishful thinking playing tricks on her eyes... and then my jaw dropped. It was snowing. Right outside my house. In Florida.

I realize that there are many places in America and around the world where snow is commonplace, and people regard it with very little care or excitement. But here in Florida, let me tell you, it's a cause for celebration. Our street looked like a comical snow globe for about five minutes. As big fat flakes fell, everyone -- and I mean everyone -- went rushing out of their houses, and shouts of, "It's snowing!! It's really, truly snowing!" could be heard up and down the street. People were wearing their pajamas and bathrobes and fuzzy slippers. My own children were falling over themselves tugging on the snow gear that had not yet been shoved too far back into the closets after our recent getaway. They were screaming and laughing, jumping up and down, turning in circles with their arms spread out and their faces lifted to heaven with their tongues sticking out to catch snowflakes.

And I stood there, fighting back tears, because through all the happy shrieks and laughter, I heard the precious Voice saying, "Yes, it's still okay to ask."

Merry Christmas and More

2010-12-28T16:55:00.001-08:00

Hey! I meant to write a longer post tonight, and have run out of time, so I'll save it till tomorrow. But I do hope everyone had a very merry Christmas. My parents arrived Christmas Eve, and it was a wonderful -- even hilarious -- Christmas morning here. I played a great practical joke on Matt -- perhaps the best yet -- and even managed to knock over our very precarious tree. The pj's weren't finished, except for Jayna's, which you can kind of see in the picture and here.

I'm really happy with them; they turned out great, but I think with the buttonholes and buttons and such, it wasn't the fastest pattern I could have done with the time crunch. Oh well. The whole day was just tons of fun, finished off with dinner at our friends' house, and a hilarious round of Cranium.

My parents left this afternoon, so we're all a little down-in-the-dumps. They'll be back in about a month... but then I won't see them again till the end of May or even June!! Blaaahhhh...
My biggest news at the moment is that Matt gave me serger for Christmas! I'm partly terrified, and partly really excited. Oh the sewing possibilities... if I can figure it out!! :-) He picked it based on the reviews that say it's best for people who have never used a serger before or who want something good but not scary. Hopefully those people weren't lying.

Anwyay, how was your Christmas? Let me know! I hope it was wonderful!

Awesome Apple Pie

2010-12-21T18:00:00.001-08:00

Greetings from Atlanta! I'm on the tail end of a little long-weekend getaway to the Smoky Mountains. It was nice to have a little break from all the insanity, but now I'm really feeling like I need to get home and finish getting ready for Christmas! Like I said before, I don't really have much shopping left to do except the groceries, but there are presents to finish sewing, cookies to bake, and of course, make the Christmas apple pie.

I'm not going to pretend this is a cooking blog. To quote a friend, I cook to eat. But I'm going to share this easy-peasy recipe with you because 1) it's delicious, 2) it's easy, and 3) it's totally kid-friendly, if that's something you're interested in (I am). Our whole family get involved in the making of these pies.

The recipe is for just one pie, but it calls for a pre-made refrigerated pie crusts, which seem to only come in packs of two, so I usually double it.

Also, because I must give credit where credit is due, this recipe comes from my amazing friend Rachel, whom I first met in MOPS when I lived in Monterey. She is just so cool. She's ridiculously talented -- I don't know anything she absolutely cannot make -- and has two wonderful blogs: Baby Cakes by Rachel and Urban Farmhouse. She is one of those beautiful people who is truly beautiful from the inside out. I feel so blessed to have her as a friend, though sad that she lives in Texas now and I live in Florida, especially when I'm drooling over my keyboard while ogling her amazing, delicious cake creations. I had this recipe from when we made it in MOPS saved in my inbox forEVER, and then somehow I accidentally deleted it. Well, once again, I thanked the Lord for Facebook as I sent Rachel a desperate message that I needed her to send me the recipe again, or my holidays would just not survive. I've made these pies for the past four years, and trust me, everyone loves them! And, my family loves making them.

Anyway, without further ado, here is the recipe. It doesn't take long to whip these babies up, so try to squeeze in the time. Everyone at your Christmas dinner table will thank you!

Dutch Apple Pie

Filling
1 prepared pie crust
3 lb's apples
1 T. lemon juice
3/4 cup sugar
1 t. cinnamon

Peel and core apples, slice thin and place in large bowl. Add lemon juice, stir to coat. Combine flour, sugar and cinnamon. Mix well, then toss lightly with apples. Put in pie crust, cover with topping (below). Bake at 400 degrees 40-45 min's.

Topping
2/3 c. flour
1/3 c. brown sugar firmly packed
1/2 c. butter

Combine flour and sugar in bowl. Cut in butter with pastry cutter (or use food processor) until mix is the consistency of coarse corn meal.

Enjoy!! :-)

2 Weeks Later...

2010-12-14T19:00:00.000-08:00

AAAAHHHH!!!!!

So two weeks ago, I was all atwitter about December. Now I'm starting to feel like I'm losing my mind. In a totally good way of course.

I mean, what's not to love? There are all those parties, all that baking, all that making stuff, all that singing. Wait a minute... have I gotten to do that? Let's see, today I finally got together the last of the presents that are headed to California, packaged them up, and got them posted. Last night, I managed to make gingerbread cookies (using this package that Darby didn't enjoy and yes, I'd sum them up the same way) with the kids. It was lots of fun except Lilly had her own ideas about cutting out cookies that did not correspond with her sisters' artistic inspirations, so there was some screaming (and not just on the famous three-year-old's part). Then she managed to spill I think every drop of any liquid that was around our kitchen. Still, you can't get mad at someone when she immediately says in the cutest voice, "Sorry, Mommy," then takes a towel and starts cleaning up.

Today, after doing my Santa thing at the post office, I rushed home to do some writing, then sew Jayna some flannel pj's. No, I'm not done yet. So far, she has a button-less vest with a pocket, and I do wonder if that's what they will still be on Christmas morning. Never mind the fact that Skyler has already put in her order, and Lilly keeps asking, "Are those for me, Mommy?" (followed immediately by, "Play shopping with me!" Major guilt trip going on for me!!)

Dinner tonight was a thrown together mess of refrigerated pasta, pesto, and veggies, before I raced off to a party where instead of home-baking dessert like I was definitely supposed to, I took brownies that I picked up at the Super Target bakery and then set them out next to all the beautiful desserts with the lid still on with its price tag. UGH!! Major faux pas!!! Total tackiness!!!

What I guess I'm saying is that there is so much I mean to do, and if I'm going to sit back and think about it, I could say that I'm really failing here with the whole "making Christmas merry" business. But what I've learned through the years, through many perfect and imperfect moments, is that as long as the focus is on the Gift from heaven -- namely, He who is Love, whose birth meant "Peace on Earth, good will to men" -- then it doesn't really matter if I get everything done. (Though it would be really nice.)

So how are you holding up in the holidays? Is it still fun for you, or is it (has it always been) total panic? How are you doing on the present list? Hang in there!!! To quote the Hollywood epic (heehee) High School Musical, "We're all in this together!" And that's the beauty of it... right? :-)

It Gets Better

2010-12-08T16:11:00.000-08:00

These are three words we're hearing a lot these days. Sometimes they apply to our children.

Saturday was Lilly's birthday. My sweet "Lil"-est. To my amazement, she is now three. That's right, people, three. It's passed in a blink.

And let me say, I really love three-year-olds. I know this because I've been through this stage twice before. But it's good to be able to remind myself that three-year-olds are lots of fun because of what happened Saturday afternoon when we took her to the park.

Now, I've noticed some patterns in my children. First, of course, they are all girls. Matt thinks my eggs have bouncers standing at the door, only letting "swimmers" with X chromosomes in. (Sorry... TMI?) I tell him he's just gotta get the Y chromosome dudes to swim faster.

Anyhow. All three girls have reached the same developmental milestones at almost the exact same time. All three took steps at nine months, all three started talking at the same time, and all three got their teeth -- two of them also lost their teeth -- at the same time. All three have had similar sleeping patterns and a tendency toward the loud. And finally, all three are extremely hard-headed.

So when Lilly saw this tricycle at a friend's house and said she really, really wanted it, the first thing that came to my mind was that while that handle looked awesome for longer "bike rides" (as she calls them) the odds of her actually letting us push her around were, well, slim to none. Still, Matt and I conferenced about it and as you can see below...

that's what she got. Here she is so excited about it that she's not paying attention to Matt's hands on the handlebar. We got all the way to the park without her noticing that she was pedalling really, really fast. But suddenly, the sun shone just the right way and she looked down at the ground and saw my shadow pushing her shadow on her tricycle.

"No, Mommy! No pushing me!" she firmly declared. And that was fine at the park. But then we headed home, and it became clear that it would take till New Year's to get home without a bit of intervention. I took a video that would be really hilarious, except it's sideways and you'd get a crick in your neck watching it. But basically, it shows Matt trying to push the tricycle without her noticing -- and not getting away with it.

Anyway, we really needed to get home, and it was taking forever. And then she started throwing a fit about getting pushed, so we decided we needed to take away the trike privilege for a bit.

Well. Everyone for about three miles around heard how she felt about that. She was so mad, and we were having to carry her home, literally kicking and screaming, as neighbors passed in their cars, either laughing hysterically at us or giving us sympathetic smiles. When we reached our street (which, by the way, we had to walk all the way down to get to our house), one woman said, "Is she three?" I nodded. Jayna and Skyler had zipped on ahead of us, and I guess she didn't know that I was also their mother. So she said, "Don't worry. It gets better." And then, Lilly smacked me in the face and screamed.

But she was right. I remember going through tantrums with each of my kids. When Jayna was this age, I carried her home from the park a couple times when I was seven months pregnant, and she was throwing a similar fit. Skyler once screamed all the way from the corner of Target furthest from the door into the parking lot and throughout our twenty minute drive home. And it used to make me feel like a huge failure as a mother, like I was doing something wrong. These days, though, I tend to feel more like this is a phase they go through, part of what my psych-major dad calls, "the process of individuation." In other words, the asserting of themselves and finding out what is acceptable versus what they want to do.

Trust me, there were some consequences for Lilly, just as there were consequences for her sisters when they were three, just as there are consequences now as they continue that process of developing who they are and sometimes throw it down. I'm by no means excusing tantrums.

But it's nice to have the view from where we are now, where my eleven-year-old and almost-eight-year-old are mostly pleasant, funny individuals. Even if they come riding up on their scooters or bikes and tell me, "Mom! I could hear Lilly screaming all the way at the other end of our street!" :-)

Merry December 1st to You!!

2010-12-01T12:54:00.000-08:00

Remember how you felt when you were little and your parents had a chocolate advent calendar for you? December 1st was so exciting because it meant the start of a countdown of chocolate-eating until Christmas! That was the best, wasn't it?

This year, I'm feeling that same old excitement I used to feel when dinner was over. I'd eaten my veggies and choked down the meat my parents always wanted me to eat, and it was finally time to pry open that little cardboard door to get my piece of chocolate out. I mean, I'm so excited about the fact that today is December 1st! Maybe it's because I actually started Christmas shopping the day before Halloween (personal record!), and I'm just about done now. Or maybe it's because last year was a bit of a bust, what with traveling, moving in, and the nauseating work of having to unpack starting December 19th. I feel like I missed out on all the fun Christmas-y things that I love to do in the month of December.

Things I'm especially looking forward to this month (besides Christmas)

My parents arrival on the 19th!
Our Christmas Movie Fest. Staples of it are White Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life (which is one of my all-time, any time favorites), and Home Alone and Home Alone 2 (3 wasn't worth repeating), A Christmas Story, National Lampoons Christmas Vacation, The Polar Express, and Elf. But we also try out some new (or previously unwatched) movies. This year, we're going to watch The Christmas Card, The Santa Paws, and Christmas Story, which is about the real St. Nick. I'll let you know what I think. ;-)
Baking and making things. I have been poring over FamilyFun and all kinds of craftsty, kid-friendly websites and books in my "free" time (read: time when my brain just can't take any more editing and the kids are asleep). I think I've got some fun ideas!
Sewing again. I say this in faith that I will either feel good enough about my manuscript to leave it alone for a while, or get burned out to the point of just having to do something else. There are some pj's, at least, that are begging to be made.
Singing Christmas carols and playing the piano.
It's actually kind of cooled off!! I mean, we're not talking Minnesota weather or anything, and yesterday, the high was about 80, but today, I think it's in the 50's!
A reason to play my favorite Christmas CD again. I'll come back to this later, but all I can say is... hooray!
Christmas parties, Christmas cookie exchanges, Christmas dinner...

Anyway, that's the "short" list, in no particular order. How about you? Are you stressed or excited? What special things do you look forward to in December?

Just to let you know...

2010-11-29T10:51:00.000-08:00

I'm not as terrible of a blogger as I might seem to be. Really. I know I have been updating this less and less and... okay, maybe I am a terrible blogger. BUT, that's because I've been working really hard at being a better writer. There is a slight difference.

I've mentioned a few times here that I was working a Big Project. So, for those who do not already know, I was writing my very first book, a memoir. And, 92,000+ words later, my manuscript is complete! Yes, folks, I think I can officially say now that I have written a book.

Which is not to say I'm done with it. I know, that sounds so weird. But there's constant editing and prepping for agents and editors, and I keep chipping away at it. I think that, just today, I've spent about four hours on it. Yes, my kids are feeling deprived, thanks for asking.

Anyway, I wanted to let everyone know. I've told a few of you, so now I'm making it public. I'm hoping to get it out there (to the agents, etc.) in the upcoming month. I wanted to say thanks to those of you who encouraged me for years to do this. You know who you are, but if I haven't said it, you've meant so much to me. And also I want to beg and plead that in spite of my poor blogging skills you keep checking in here. (Maybe even click "Follow"... hint, hint). I plan to make a few changes to things here, so please, PLEEEZE stay tuned.

Also, I hope that, with sending my manuscript off, I get a little bit of time to work on some fun Christmas projects and presents. And if I can do that, I'll also try to blog more.

Anyway, my apologies again, and also my thanks.

"Patch"ing It Up

2010-10-20T12:22:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I think that to be a military spouse means to always be walking around with a bit of heartache. If you're fortunate enough to have your beloved living at home with you, you're still, inevitably, always missing something or someone. Maybe it's friends, family, or maybe even just that one special pizza place. Lately, I've been feeling that way a lot. I won't dare complain about the weather -- it's been in the eighties during the day, and cooling to the sixties or so at night -- but I will say it just doesn't feel particularly fall-ish. I've been remembering fondly the pumpkin-carving parties my sister-in-law throws at her home in the wine country of California. I've been yearning for that huge maple tree across the street from our Chesapeake house that looks absolutely glorious when it's golden orange against a clear, blue autumn sky. And as I think about the approaching holidays, knowing that I won't see my parents until right before Christmas, and they're our next-in-line guests, I just feel a little sad. Well, more than a little. I try really hard to be happy where I am because I don't want to spend my life wishing I was elsewhere. Our time here is too short for that.

Still, with that said, I know now that I should not have gone to the Conner's A-Maize-ing Acres this past weekend. What I hoped would be a fun family adventure, doing one of our favorite fall activities (namely, pumpkin patch-ing) actually ended up with me not feeling any more grateful about living here, but instead, all the more wistful about places I'd rather be. Like Virginia.

You see, in Virginia, we had great experiences getting our pumpkins. The first year there, we caravanned with friends up a country highway to a place near Stafford. We stopped for lunch en route at this fantastic bakery/ ice-cream shop and when we got to the pumpkin farm, there were so many fun things to do, like swing down from the hayloft on a rope (which I did not participate in because I was seven months pregnant, but got a lot of laughs watching my kids) or pet the farm animals. The next year, we found a great spot closer to home. I honestly don't remember the name of it, but it is in Virginia Beach on the way to Hunt Club Farms. I say it's on the way there because that was where we had planned to go, but when we saw the crowds and considered the cost, we made a U-turn and headed back to this place we'd seen on our way in. It was SO fun -- a hayride takes you out to the field where you pick your pumpkins, then after you've put your pumpkins away, there are farm animals, and all kinds of fun things to play on (farm equipment, playhouses), and hay slides. And the best part is, you get all this for the cost of your pumpkins! That's it!

Does it sound like my expectations for Florida were too high? I don't think so. Especially considering that Jayna had been to Conner's on a field trip and said it was pretty good, and my MOPS group recently went and raved about it. Yes, the price seemed steep (it would have totalled $58 for the five of us, except we got a military discount, so it was "only" $38), but I figured if it helped me enjoy fall here instead of wishing for, say, Virginia or California, it would be all right. (Cheaper than airfare, right?)

Well, first, the positives: We arrived on the day of the Redneck Olympics, which was interesting for about five minutes.

And there were some animals... Here is Skyler's "Please-can-I-have-one?" face about the mini-rex rabbit.

But now for the hard truth. The famous maize maze was... depressing? Sad? I don't know. They tried to make it more fun with trivia questions that, if answered correctly, would help you get through, but it didn't matter because the maize wasn't thick enough to hide people, and so you could easily follow the crowds. In any case, it really didn't warrant the nearly-forty-bucks entrance fee. So we moved on. There was the "cow train" which is made up of a bunch of barrels turned into cows that you can ride in while pulled behind a tractor, and it might have been worth the picture if the line hadn't been long enough to compete with those at Disney World, and if the "train" didn't just go a couple times around a big tree. The hayride was similar -- maybe three times around a tree, though.

Matt is good at sizing things up and cutting losses. But there have been those times that he was wrong, and my insistence on staying somewhere has revealed something worthwhile. Not so this time. At my insistence, we stood around, watching people inch through long lines till they got to ride around the trees in their transportation choice.

I'd have to say that the best part of the experience was when we went to pay for our pumpkins. There were all these pumpkins lined up behind the woman we were supposed to pay to give us an idea of what ours would cost. So we walked up, and she looked at ours and said, "Okay... so this one's eight, this one's seven, this one's five, and these are both two. So that'll be... eleven dollars." Matt and I were both a little shocked. We may not be God's gifts to mathematics, but we knew eight plus seven plus five plus two and two did not, in fact, equal eleven. Our eyes met and for the briefest moment, we considered this possible compensation for the enormous admission fee.

But, for better or worse, my husband is always ethical. "For this one?" Matt asked, holding up our largest pumpkin.

"No all of them." Then, as soon as she said that, she realized her mistake and went, "Oh. I mean. Let's do it again." This time, our pumpkins were all about half the original price she'd stated (four, four, three, etc.), so we decided to give her a twenty and call it even.

Anyway, so that's the story. It was fun in that it was something different for our family, and we always have a good time being together. And maybe if the price had been less or there hadn't been the crowds, I'd feel better about Conner's. But I still miss the coolness in the air as I watch my kids going down the hay slide in Virginia Beach, and I still miss the pumpkin-carving party at my sister-in-law's in Santa Rosa, CA. At least we have the air show this weekend... :-)

One Week

2010-10-14T18:21:00.000-07:00

This has been a week of incredible ups and downs. In the past seven days I have:

struggled to show mercy in a frustrating situation that affects my family, even as I was reminded of times when I was shown undeserved mercy. And I would say that though my feelings aren't quite as strong as they were, say, a week ago, I'm still struggling.
had two friends give birth to healthy babies, and had another announce her pregnancy.
had insomnia almost every night. It's so frustrating to lie awake, thinking of how everyone else who depends on you is happily recharging and you are going to be completely flat. Ugh.
watched as the Chilean miners were rescued. How can that not be exciting?
met a huge, HUGE personal goal that I have been working on for literally years. I will give more details another time, but for now I'll just say that I even surprised myself on this one. I would want to shout the news from the mountains, except...
my uncle passed away yesterday. He had been sick for quite some time, but we had reason to believe that he'd finally landed in the right hands who would be able to treat his condition. Then, the night before last, I got a call from Mom that she and my dad were going to be with him, my aunt, and cousins because things were looking extremely bleak. There is so much to be said about this man. He was a gifted musician, a loving person, and a wonderful pastor and teacher of the Word. Among the many notable things he did with his life, the nearest to my heart is that he officiated my wedding. We traveled with him and his family on several occasions and have hilarious stories from each one of those times. He leaves behind my dear aunt (Mom's twin sister) and my cousins, whom I know are filled with heartache even with the assurance that he's in heaven because he's one of those people who just leaves a huge, gaping hole.

Anyway, I look back on all these ups and downs, and wonder that so much can happen in seven short, extremely busy days. That so much happiness and heartache can fill one little week. And yet, I also can't help but know in my heart this one simple truth: God is good. All the time.

Some Spookiness

2010-10-06T18:31:00.000-07:00

Ahh... it's amazing what a month will do. In my last post (gulp, a month ago), I was griping about the weather. Well, just when I thought my sanity couldn't take another day of stifling heat and mugginess, we've had a lovely break of cool(-er) weather. Right now the thermostat in my house says the temperature is 73 degrees, and my air conditioner has not come on for a week. It has been... SO nice. I really can't even tell you.

Anyway, the writing insanity continues, so there's nothing to report on the sewing front. But you can read this, an essay I wrote recently (though not part of The Big Project). It is a message that is near and dear to my heart. I think I've written almost 30,000 words in the past three weeks, so I thought my brain would explode this past weekend if I wrote any more. We decided to head to St. Augustine for a little excursion. There's lots to see there, but since the girls and I have seen most everything else, we decided to go to Ripley's Believe It or Not! (the original)

OK, so I know we got the military discount for our tickets, but let me just say, this is one museum that's worth the price of admission -- IF you don't mind the amount of creepiness. Because there definitely is some -- probably more than I'd expected. And I have to say that I think, for me, number one on my list would be the Iron Maiden exhibit. But my daughters would probably say that the creepiest part of the museum is the part that caught on fire in the 40's (if I remember correctly), claiming the lives of two women. The exhibit dedicated to this is definitely chill-worthy, but scarier still is the blurb that claims the ghosts of these women have been seen walking there.

As we were leaving, I asked the guy at the front desk if he'd ever seen these ghosts. He shook his head with eyes wide open and said, "Oh no, no, no. I don't work here at night, and if I did, I wouldn't go up to that part." When I asked, "Really?" he said that his friends who did work later in that section had seen things.

Yes, I believe in ghosts -- at least something along those lines. What do you think?

Anyway, ghosts or no, there was just plenty to give me chills and plenty more to turn my stomach. But here I am trying to convince L not to be scared of the skeleton pirates. Yeah, nice try, Mom.

Note L's expression in this picture. This was her "happy face" until we were out of the building... and past the rogue rooster that was strutting around outside. Birds, especially such cocky types as roosters (yeah, yeah, pun intended), really freak out my daughters. The casual observer may be led to believe that they get this from their mother. :-)
This is one of the few wonderfully benign exhibits: a manatee sculpture made entirely from crushed soda cans. Note how excited L is to see it.
And more creepy again... a giant shark jaw. (and L not happy)
So anyway, if you're in north Florida or the vicinity, this is definitely worth taking a look at. Here's hoping the weather stays cool and it's not too long before I write here again!! :-)

What I Did Last Summer

2010-09-07T18:11:00.000-07:00

Remember those writing assignments you used to get on the first day of school, the essays entitled "What I Did Last Summer," even if, technically, it was still summer? Well, I thought that I would write something like that tonight, with photos so I don't have to write so much (I'm tired) to catch you all up on what we've been up to. It's hard to believe that Labor Day has passed already. It kind of feels like my summer sped by in a blur. So it's probably good for me to take a few minutes to do this.

In no particular order (as usual) I:

-- spent a lot of time at the pool!

-- went to California to be with my mama on her birthday.
-- got to see my sisters, including my little sister Jackie whom I haven't seen in ages.

-- also got to see my best friend, and my kids got to see their best friends. I love this picture. I love the crazy mass of legs and happy faces. As Jayna put it, we look like a big monster, but the best and happiest kind. There is just something about turning down her street, feeling the excitement from my kids after we ring the doorbell, the happy shrieks as my girls hug their friends that they never get to see enough of... and then just being with them. If only we didn't have the sadness of saying good-bye...

-- established myself as the worst bowler in north Florida.

-- pinned gold oak leaves on my Lieutenant Commander husband. Discovered that being married to a LCDR is pretty much like being married to a Lt., but since I never expected this to be part of my journey, it is worth my taking a second to say, "Huh! Wow!"

-- learned that I'll be moving again next summer to Washington State. Well, I say that with as much certainty as one can have in the Navy. I'm indescribably happy about being on the West Coast again, but a little unmotivated to unpack that last box in the garage. *sigh*

-- celebrated eleven (I know! Eleven!!) years of being this girl's mom.

-- went camping in Maine. Loved -- LOVED -- Maine, didn't love camping, at least not on the hard ground. Would probably enjoy it more with air mattresses... or better yet, a cabin. (No, it was definitely not my first time camping, but every experience is different.)

-- saw five humpback whales off the coast of Maine and became all the more certain that saving whales is a valuable endeavor.

-- went to Boston for the first time, and loved it! What a cool city!

-- oh, and did I mention I cut my hair? Short-ish... and then much shorter. I don't know if it's the heat, but I really don't miss the length.

-- ate 500 calories of a cupcake at Crumbs in NYC, and enjoyed every last second of it!

-- realized that I've now been to forty-nine of the fifty states. The one I haven't been to is... (drumroll, please) NORTH DAKOTA!!! And, no offense if you're from there, but you're going to be pretty hard-pressed to get me to go. Since it's the setting of Laura Ingalls Wilder's book The Long Winter, I just... I don't know. You'd really have to twist my arm. Maybe I can swing through -- briefly -- on the drive to Washington next summer.

So, in bullet-point and photograph form, that was my summer. I'd say it was pretty good! There was a lot I meant to do, but didn't, but a lot I still managed to accomplish. I'm sad to see it over, but I'm definitely looking forward to the weather cooling off (if it ever does), at least to the point where I can wear jeans without it being like attempting suicide by self-roasting.

How about you? How was your summer?

Crazy Like That

2010-09-03T04:33:00.001-07:00

Well, I don't know if anyone is still reading this because it's been SO LONG since I last posted. If you are reading, THANK YOU!!! It's been a crazy summer, and things are still crazy. In addition to all the usual madness, I'm working on a huge writing project, and when I'm finished with my goal every day, I'm kind of out of words. So today, I'm trying to post early (7:30 a.m.) rather than my usual work-out at this time, and trying to keep it short-ish so I still have motivation to work on my project later.

First, I do have to admit that I haven't done any sewing lately except to modify pants for my kids that were too wide in the waist or to fix the sleeves in one of my favorite dresses, and that did not go well at all because I broke my first needle. Thankfully, I don't think any permanent damage was done to my machine, and I also managed to avoid injury. I do really, REALLY want to do some sewing. I have projects lined up. I just need to finish this or have a whole day all to myself or something...

But today I just wanted to write a little note here about my husband and the craziness he has to put up with. For one thing, he has three girls -- plus me -- and therefore inevitably has some drama to deal with daily, but it's usually with a smile. He gets that pink and purple are almost always the best color choices and that you can't really tell any daughter of mine how to dress (aside from weather/ modesty appropriateness).

And then there's me. You know that song from Enchanted called "How Do You Know?" that lists all these bold romantic gestures that supposedly prove someone's love to you? I attest it's the little things that make or break a relationship. Early in our marriage, he would watch every night as I turned the alarm clock away from where I could see it. I know it's completely insane, but I cannot sleep if I can see the numbers. Inevitably, all those little moments where I roll over and would be mostly asleep are time-stamped in my mind if I can see the clock and it makes me feel like I didn't sleep at all. So I cover it up with a t-shirt or just turn it away. He used to ask me why I was doing that, mutter something about how it didn't make any sense because he likes to know what time it is if he's awake. But now... now he turns it away for me.

And then there's the beverage issue. I absolutely must have my tea or coffee hot every day, even if it's sweltering hot outside. It just doesn't feel like my real "Hello, New Day" cuppa if it's not hot, and it has to be sipping-temperature hot, not lukewarm. This does not make any sense to my husband, who likes to start his days with a cold bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper, which in turn, just sounds horrible to me. But I know he loves me because yesterday, for the second time this summer, he did something that shows he not only accepts my craziness, but you could even say he supports it a little.

Let me preface this by telling you that another difference between us is in how we deal with mistakes at restaurants or fast-food establishments. His take is, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit." He was very impressed with the part of Fight Club where the waiters pee or spit in the soup that the customers weren't happy about, and rather than risk ingesting someone's bodily fluids, he just takes whatever is given to him even if it's not what he ordered. I'm the opposite. While I don't want to eat anyone's urine either, I feel like, as a paying customer, you should get what you ordered. I guess I trust my sense of taste to be strong enough to detect anything wrong... but I also tend to assume the best about people. We've had some earnest discussions about this time and again.

But yesterday, for the second time as I mentioned, we went to Dunkin Donuts just to get me a Latte Lite. (He had a late flight, so we were just spending some time together in the morning.) When he was handed an iced version of this, he didn't even look at me to see what I thought, he just said, "Actually, we wanted this hot." Then he waited and watched while they prepared it correctly.

Cue music: "That how you know... he's your love!!!!" :-) What little bits of craziness does your spouse or significant other put up with that make you feel loved?? Keep in touch! I'll try (I promise!) to write again soon!!

The Poo in Pool

2010-07-12T11:19:00.000-07:00

Warning: the following post is not for the squeamish.

They say that death is the great equalizer. That may be true, but I think that poo is also... well, one of those things. As the famous children's literary classic puts it, "Everybody Poops."

A few weeks ago, Matt and I decided that our pool was not quite sufficient for our swimming needs this summer, and at the recommendation of several friends, we joined a certain local club. The name of this club sounds very pretentious, at least in my opinion, and we only joined because they have a nice pool, great social activities, and a fantastic rate for military members. Since joining, I've had moments of wondering if we were maybe a bit out of our class. For instance, when we took our initial tour, it seemed like my kids were scratching and picking and bickering with each other as much as was humanly possible. I'm not saying they are always perfect angels, but it was really uncharacteristic -- as if they were putting on an awfulness show -- and I thought the staff would say, "You know, on second thought..." I'd put on my J. Crew swimming suit, but since it's about seven years old now, I suddenly noticed how faded it was.

Fortunately, after that first visit, I ran into lots of very down-to-earth friends there, even friends I didn't know were club members. It's been much better.

I've gone swimming there several times now with the girls, but on Friday afternoon, following his work, Matt joined us. I could tell he had that same first-time sense of trepidation. We were at our stations for just a few minutes-- he with the big girls in the big pool, and me with Lilly in the kiddie pool -- when suddenly they all got out, and he came up to me with a funny look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Why aren't you swimming?"

"Because I don't like the way everyone's getting out and looking in the water. It makes me suspicious."

"You think someone...?" I asked, looking at the pool, and sure enough, everyone was climbing out with sour expressions or (the younger crowd) peering from the safety of the deck into the water with looks of morbid curiosity. Sure enough, in a few minutes, we figured out from the hushed conversations around us that someone had poo'ed in the pool.

So. I realize you don't want to embarrass anyone, and that's a good idea. But, it does seem fair to let everyone know promptly that they are swimming in poo water. Or at least tell them to get out -- NOW. That's how they do it at base pools. Once the last few had finally realized they were the only ones still swimming and exited the pool, the lifeguards came and dumped several huge scoops of a white powder -- I'm guessing massive amounts of chlorine -- into the water, and announced that no one could swim in it again until three hours later.

But it was all pretty funny. Everyone was acting so refined and hush-hush about it, but every now and then I'd hear someone say (as they all crowded around the kiddie pool), "Well, I didn't do it!" Matt watched as one of the lifeguards showed up for his duty, completely oblivious to what had just happened. All the lifeguards there are, like most, tanned with perfectly chiseled physiques. This guy was no exception, wearing those reflective sunglasses so he could check how he looked just by "cleaning the lenses." He swaggered up to the pool, and slipped into the perfectly calm, still water, dipping underneath the surface and then popping back up with that perfect Baywatch toss of his head. Another lifeguard, (the one who had just finished dumping the chlorine in) walked calmly around the perimeter of the pool, leaned over the edge, and whispered something to the guy in the water, who then -- very carefully but quickly, with a squeamish expression -- hoisted himself out of the water. I would LOVE to know what he said. Was it, "Dude, right where you're swimming, just a few minutes ago, I fished out a huge... and by the way, you'd better get out of the water before all your skin falls off from the chlorine"? I doubt he was feeling quite so Baywatch any more. (tee-hee-hee)

Anyway, for me, it was one of those things that makes me feel better about being members there. It's somehow nice to know that a place like that, however fancy-shmancy, isn't immune to such misfortunes. And also... We might not have tons of money or fancy cars. Our kids go to public schools and wear hand-me-downs, but... at least they don't poo in the pool. :-)

The Cone of Shame

2010-06-29T18:14:00.001-07:00

Well, I'm back!!! After taking a hiatus from blogging because of total craziness in my life (school finishing for the girls, dance recitals, a quick 10-day trip to California sans Matt -- to give you just a little sampling of some of it) I've returned. With these faces.

Yup, TimTam (the Aussie) and Milo (wiener dog) got "tutored" today. I'm pretty sure it was not the greatest day of their lives. TimTam was licking his incision a lot, so I had to put "the cone of shame" on him, and I figured, well, why have Milo feeling left out? Milo is actually almost himself already. He's trotting around with his tail wagging whenever he sees us or when he's outside, though not quite back in lizard-hunting mode. I'd almost say he just made the face for the photo above for the sympathy he's going to get. But every now and then he lets out some pathetic whines.

TimTam, however, is utterly miserable. When I put his cone on, he just sighed deeply, as if to say, "Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse."

Jayna is feeling pretty bad for them. She keeps asking me if I feel bad, too. And, my answer is: well... not really. There are moments when I feel a little pity for them. I mean, they woke up this morning, thinking it would be a typical day of romping around the yard, barking, napping, etc., and instead they had their manhood taken from them. (Can you say that when talking about a dog?) But then again, all I have to do is think up the times they pooped in the living room, or when TimTam chewed something just to spite me, or when Milo chewed up most of my couch cushions while I was in California (and yeah, I still have to take the time to sew them all up, but we've been going a mile-a-minute since we returned)... I'm hoping TimTam hasn't licked his incision too much -- because it doesn't look all tidy like Milo's, but not quite open either -- and I'm hoping they heal quickly. But feel bad for them?? (glance at couch) Nah.

Knit Wit

2010-05-21T09:47:00.001-07:00

Well, I did it, for the first time ever: sewed with knit. And here is the result:

(Isn't she cute???) But I know you can't see the dress so well in that pic, so here's another.

(We were at an awards ceremony for Jayna -- very proud mama here.)

I don't want to sound like one of those people that knows everything the first time she does it, but I will say this: sewing with knit really wasn't so bad. I've heard and read all kinds of scariness about it, and I really didn't experience any of that. I bought the pattern (McCall's 5615) last summer, and the fabric was on sale at Joann's a couple weeks ago. I think it's just cotton jersey. It was super cheap. I don't have a serger, so this was all done on my regular sewing machine, and really, it was almost exactly like sewing with regular fabric.

But at the risk of sounding like one of those First Time Experts that we all know and love so much, I do have a few tips, if you haven't sewn with knit.

Do make sure you're using a ball-point needle.
And make sure you're using the right size ball-point. See below.
Do practice on a scrap of fabric. I do this anyway whenever I'm trying out a new kind of fabric, but usually I could have gotten away with skipping this step. Definitely not so in this case. I'd put a ball-point needle on my machine, but I wasn't sure it was the right size, and... it wasn't. The machine kept skipping stitches, and it looked awful. I tried the bigger needle, next size up. Problem solved.

My big beef from this experience is with the pattern itself. Cotton knits are first on the list of suggested fabrics. And I can honestly say again that I followed the directions precisely. Skyler is a little on the tall side for seven-year-olds, but her bust/ waist measurements are for size 6 on most patterns. The last dress I made for her was a McCall pattern out of regular quilter's cotton I made in size 7, and it was almost too small for her, even in the bust. So this time, I went ahead and made this in size 7 (she's growing like a weed, after all) with a size 8 hem-length.

Anyway. The result was that the dress was just long enough, in my opinion, to be suitable as a dress for barely enough time to be worthwhile, but HUGE, I meant G-I-A-N-T in the bust/ waist. I'm talking, almost big enough for me. SO AGGRAVATING!!!! I took in each side 1.5 inches! And it's still plenty big for her to wear as a tunic/ long top when she's eight, possibly nine. She's wearing it with a tank because it wouldn't be decent by itself -- though that is probably my fault because I just attached the straps at the suggested length, not trying it on her first. (I was making it while she was at school.) The directions said to make the back elastic even with the raw edges after putting it through the casing. I don't know if I got distracted and cut the wrong length, but doing this made it completely the same as it had been before, not cinched like what's supposed to happen with elastic.

So that's the story of my first experience sewing with knits. At least it's turquoise, and she likes it. Actually, she likes it a lot, in spite of it being a bit big. And she wore it to school, and one of her friends claimed to want one exactly like it. I guess, all in all, that means it was a good project. :-)

Pool Daze

2010-05-17T11:12:00.001-07:00

Well, it's really starting to warm up here in Florida. There's only been a day or two so far when I actually thought I might start melting, but it's getting to where I'm starting to plot my strategies for surviving this summer, 'cause, baby, it's gonna be hot!!!

So I'm dreaming of a beautiful, gigantic crystal blue pool in my backyard. But it's definitely not a reality at the moment. The sprinkler is fun the first time, for a little while... but not all the terribly long Floridian summer. Jayna has three friends in the neighborhood with pools, and every time she goes traipsing off to one of their houses, Skyler, Lilly, and I stand there waving with sad looks on our faces... and then I have to comfort everyone when I'm thinking, Yeah... a pool would be so nice right now!

Anyway, we decided we had to get something. So we bought a kiddie pool that has a filter and is about 10' in diameter. I didn't want to get anything too deep otherwise I knew I'd get an ulcer worrying about Lilly. This is a little over 2' deep, which is enough to keep me alert and attentive, but not downing entire bottles of Tums.

Now, it was really easy to set up, except that there was this picture (which I apparently threw away, darn it, and the trash has been picked up) of someone standing beside the pool with a hose. Well, we had better ways to spend our Saturday (obviously), and though we draped one hose over the edge over the edge of the pool, our second hose was about a foot too short. Filling the pool with just one hose would have taken forever, so my brilliant husband came up with this.

Clearly, he missed his calling. He should have been an engineer, or, at least, a fountain sculptor.

Anyway, it was finally finished, and everyone was very, very happy. I've gotten in a few times, but our kids lived in it for the past two days.

I've been Summer Survival sewing a lot, too, and have plenty to say about that. But for now, the kiddie pool has helped me think that if I'm truly about to burn up from the heat, I have one happy place to escape for a few minutes! :-)

Links to What I'm Lovin' Right Now

2010-05-05T18:34:00.001-07:00

Well, I'm pretty beat tonight, and there's a pile of laundry calling to me, so I'm going to try to keep it a little short. Just thought I'd point out a couple of links I'm really loving right now.

Remember my post on movies, and in particular, my comments about the movie Departures and its soundtrack? Well, you can listen to pieces of the soundtrack here! It's not as good as playing it on my iPod dock, where I can hear it all over the house, but, especially when I'm sitting down to write. I love the cello, it's an instrument I wish I'd learned how to play. And with the piano, which I do play and have loved for my whole life... *sigh* it's, well, perfect. I am still hoping someone can find the whole CD for me, but in the meantime this gives me that little gorgeous music fix. Be sure to check it out.

And now for something completely different. :-) The other day, I was riding my bike around the neighborhood, with Lilly in the bike seat. I was wearing a V-neck t-shirt from Gap that I absolutely LOVE. But speaking of... um... Gap... I felt like I was getting some really big smiles and waves from my male neighbors, and wondering why everyone was suddenly so friendly, when I happened to look down and realized the v-neck made a huge gap as I leaned over the handlebars, and they could see straight down my shirt. Great. Just great.

Then, a couple days ago, I received in the mail a catalog for DownEast Basics. I'm not sure how I got on this mailing list, but I think it has to do with my recent order of some camis from Shade Clothing. Shade is great for basic camis and t's. They also have a maternity line, for those of you who might need that at the moment, but their regular shirts have so much stretch in them anyway that I was able to wear them while very preggers with Lilly and still wear them now. In fact, they're almost better because of it, since they don't cling to my belly. I got hooked on Shade because they were offering the longer, more covering t-shirts before regular retailers were. And they are such a nice quality -- I mean, to be able to wear something at nine months pregnant and now... that should say something right there. And they're just the perfect kind of thing to wear with my favorite skirts. (And jeans. And capris.)

I think there's some kind of connection here because there are some strong similarities in style, and I received this catalog just a month or so after getting my camis. Plus, both appear to be Utah-based companies. I know that Shade was started by a couple LDS women who were tired of not being able to buy t-shirts that were modest while still being cute. I'm not LDS, but I do support the idea of "modest but stylish," especially as I try to set a good example while raising three daughters!

Anyway. Back to DownEast. While I still love Shade, I think DownEast offers a lot more variety, like this shirt (and this and this) and this dress, as well as adorable girls' clothes, like this dress. Of course, I'm going to try to make as much as I can, but t-shirts and knit tops are kind of beyond my sewing ability right now, and they are a crucial staple of my wardrobe.

So that's what I wanted to share tonight. I always love to hear from anyone reading my blog! Keep in touch!

Of Batteries and Beaches

2010-05-01T16:12:00.001-07:00

Ever have those days when you start out intending to do one thing and something entirely different happens? Well, for me, most days are like that... and Saturday was no exception. I was going to get my car's brakes worked on, but couldn't get it in, so then we were going to do some shopping and hopefully end up at the beach in Matt's car. But we stopped for gas en route, (thankfully only a few miles from our house) and the battery died. Now, it was about ninety degrees out, and we'd gone just far enough for Lilly to conk out in her carseat. Matt was ready to leave us with the car while he walked home and got our jumper cables, but I said no way, at least "not yet," since we were stuck right in the (very, very hot) sunshine with sleepy Lilly.

Besides, I'm a firm believer in the verse, "Ask and you shall receive." The gas station was crowded with people coming and going, and I knew that somebody had to have jumper cables. So the girls and I said a quick prayer as Matt busily turned the key to make sure the battery was, in fact, dead. Then, I got out of the car and said, loud and clear, "Hey! Anybody have any jumper cables?"

Now, this was probably the most completely mortifying thing that has happened to Matt this year. He never has to ask directions because of our GPS (though we have been known to get into "discussions" over the verity of what our GPS is telling us). He prefers to be the guy swooping in, red cape flapping behind him, and saving the day. He has, quite literally, pulled people out of cars that were about to catch fire, and he looks for people stranded beside the road that need help. He bought his car for its reliability and hated the fact that it failed him and he had to be bailed out.

But as for me, hey, this was just par for the course. I always think it's a bit ridiculous when people ask what my five- or ten-year plan is. I can't even plan my day and expect it to go accordingly. There are constant negotiations and postponements, barters and rearrangements. A dead battery? Three miles from home? Pshaw! That ain't nothin'!

Meanwhile, the girls were dying of laughter in the back seat. For some reason, this has turned into a huge family joke. Jayna or Skyler will come up and say, "Oooh! Guess who I am? 'Hey! Does anybody have jumper cables?!'" and then they double over with laugher. But guess what? It worked. At least getting the jumper cables did. Unfortunately, the jumper cables didn't charge it enough to get it going. Fortunately, another guy came along, and said, "Hey. I have some bigger jumper cables. Want to try them?" And they worked. Car started, we returned home and took my car on our errands and to the beach, which turned out to be a good thing because we can change in my car, and the beach we ended up at didn't have any changing facilities.

Another Bible verse comes to mind here... "And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him..." :-)

The beach was absolutely perfect. It wasn't crowded at all, nor was it too hot, and the tide had gone out enough to form little pools in the sand. Matt and I sat and watched the girls playing for hours until we finally decided to go home.

Only one final thing to say here, though: When your spray-on sunscreen says "Do not apply in windy conditions" believe it. We are now the Tie-Dye family, with really, really weird sunburns. All of us. Yours splotchy-ly, Joy. :-)

Pull Up a Chair!

2010-04-27T14:14:00.001-07:00

Well, it was another fun weekend! On Friday, we went on a real date -- no, no, we skipped the door shopping and went to dinner and a movie (after a little work thing for Matt). We hit the beach for a little while, which was great... until a woman rode by on her bicycle... wearing a thong. OK, I feel it coming on -- I'm going to have to get up on my soapbox for a minute, I'm afraid: Thongs. Are. Gross. Especially when the wearer is on a bike. Okay, I realize that this is just my humble opinion, but trust me, there was so much dimpling and bunching that for an embarrassing, and mentally scarring, moment too long, I stared, wondering what weird attachment she had on her bike seat. Then I realized it was... her bum. And I'm not disparaging her figure; it was a nice figure before it was wedged and bunched in ways that are, at least, not meant to be seen in public. (Especially when there are children present.)

Okay, I'm done. For now. ;-) But speaking of bums, I found some great chairs at the flea market! (How's that for a segue?) We are driving up to this town in Georgia that we went to last time we lived here, where there were all these charming little antique shops filled with cool things. Our goal was to buy me a "new" dresser, since the one I have been using, that was refurbished by my granddad, is totally falling apart. We also wanted some nightstands. We had just made it north of the airport, though, when we saw a sign for the flea market, and realized it was going on just then. So we pulled off the freeway, parked and went inside. There were three long, narrow buildings.

Going into the first one, I have to say, I had a bit of trepidation. We've been to a few "flea markets" that were just, well, kinda scary. And that first building definitely had me flashing back to those. There was nothing of interest to me -- a bunch of cheap toys you can get at the dollar store, a bunch of gross, rip-off perfumes, and a stall called "A World of Hurt" where you could purchase nun-chucks, bows and arrows, knives of all shapes and sizes... you get the picture, right? So I was ready to leave, but Matt insisted we keep looking. In the third building there were several stalls with puppies, and our kids were ogling and begging, so we picked up our pace and almost walked past... a stall full of dressers! For a decent price! They aren't antique, but they are made by this older man who builds them in his own workshop, which I think is very cool. We did some negotiating, and he's making me a dresser and two nightstands and delivering them to my house in two weeks. I'm so excited!

But then I found the chairs, just the kind of thing I was think of when I think "cool flea market." This stall was chock full of things I wanted to look at and buy, but I focused on the chairs and bought these. This one is probably the most wobbly, but I think it has a nice shape. It's in my sewing workspace so that it won't be sat on too much.

This one is also not in perfect condition -- it's missing one of the cross-pieces underneath -- but it's still sturdy. I don't think it needed it.

And here is my new sewing chair!!! I'm in love!!!! You can't see in this picture just how wonderfully aged and crackly its paint is, but I think it's so cool!
I know I have shown you my sewing workspace before, but here is a view with the "new" chairs.
And here is another very cool chair. It's in perfect condition, even the leather seat cushion.

When I went to pay, the man who owns the stall said, "Oh, you're going to play musical chairs?" Har...har...har... No. I just really like the eclectic look. It's one of those things that has just sort of happened, but I'd call "a happy accident." Our dining room table and the chair you see here above in the corner were made in Spain. After about three years, though, they started falling apart. I've glued and tried to hold them together, but one by one, they are truly dying off. So last year, I bought four chairs from IKEA... and two of those have already broken, too. Then there are the black captain chairs, one of which you see above, that we bought at the thrift store when we moved here and didn't have our household goods yet but wanted something to sit on. The eclectic look also allows me to not pick a favorite chair style, which as you know, works for me.

And frankly, I think it looks a lot more interesting this way. So we have plenty of seats for everyone now! Come on in and pull up a chair! :-)

Ten Years...

2010-04-23T09:53:00.000-07:00

Today marks ten years since Matt started the Navy's Officer Candidate School. Which means, as shocking as it is to me, I've been a Navy wife for ten years! He had left me and baby Jayna the day before, standing at a window, waving good-bye as he took off into the sunrise. I was full of fear and wonder about what the future held. And to be honest, I'd have been even more afraid if I'd known some of it. When I'd married him, he was going to work in city government or administration, or possibly teach. But he couldn't shake his dream of flying, and combined with his desire to help people, that meant being a Navy pilot. I tried -- so hard!!! -- to fight it, but eventually, I realized that I just had to support him... and hang on for the ride. :-)

But days like today are landmark days. Looking back, I still feel a bit of wonder, sort of, "Was this really my life?!" and also, "How did I get here?" But mostly, I feel gratitude, first to God, who has sustained me and given me everything I needed every step of the way, starting with the most amazing people standing beside me that morning at the airport -- complete strangers who wrapped me in their arms like I was part of their family and sustained me through those first, terrifying moments of thinking, "I'm all alone."

I'm also thankful for our families, who have provided love and support. My parents have endured many phone calls from me when I've felt like the whole world was on my shoulders, and they've cheered both of us on with love and prayers.

But I thought I'd make a little photo list of some of the other things I'm thankful for. Like dress blues, (Matt and I at the Sandeman Bodega in Spain)

and, of course, choker whites (at Matt's graduation from NPS)
heck, even wash khakis, (Matt with newborn Lilly -- he came to the hospital straight from work and didn't have time to change)

flight jackets, mmmm-hmmmmmm...
flight suits, (Matt on lunch break with month-old Skyler)

flight suits (giving Jayna a twirl on Feria Day)

and more flight suits (the squadron's spouses' club in Spain -- see, even the spouses can rock flight suits!)

I'm also thankful for amazing places we've been able to live, like Pacific Grove, CA...

amazing places we've visited (if you don't know where this is, well...)

Gibraltar (Jayna goes for a twirl at the top of the rock)...

Salzburg...

Sevilla...

and Garmiche, Germany -- to name just a few.

I'm thankful for deep, sweet friendships

(me with one of my first Navy friends and closest member of my Navy family, Katie, right after I realized I was in labor with Lilly)

people that have provided laughter and prayer and support (more Navy friends, Doreen, Marilee, and Kathleen).

There are so many friends I would like to include here, but it would take all day. Also not just "Navy Family" friends, but people I've met along the way because of where the Navy took us. You all should know who you are and what you mean to me, and if you don't, I'm not doing my part as a friend very well.

I'm thankful that the good-byes have taught us how hard it is to live apart, and to cherish our time together. But I have to admit, I'm more thankful for homecomings... and every morning that I get to wake up next to my husband.

And I'm thankful for Matt, who is genuinely so caring and funny and smart and compassionate. The world needs more men like him. And for my daughters, who keep smiles on their faces and mine, even during the tough times, and who bring truth to saying, "Home is where the Navy sends us."

Happy Earth Day to You!!

2010-04-22T18:26:00.000-07:00

This morning, when my daughters got up, I said, "Hey! Happy Earth Day to you!" And Skyler started singing that, of course, as Happy Birthday, and then Lilly joined in -- cha-cha-cha's included as well as the "And many moooorrrre!" at the end. Made me smile. :-)

If somehow you weren't on the Yahoo homepage today, and you didn't see the ad that I'm pretty sure was there all day, Sun Chips has a new compostable bag, which I think is so cool. Seriously, why don't more companies do this? I get frustrated with the stupid recycling rules here and also when I lived in Chesapeake. There, I actually took the time to write heated letters to city council members, but I don't know... just haven't done that yet here. But if more garbage was compostable, well, end of problem, you know?

But anyway, the point of Earth Day is, what small changes can you make to help out this planet? For me, I am using reusable bags as much as possible (though Target plastic bags are the perfect trash can liners for my kitchen), I walk to the girls' school as long as the weather is nice and we have the time, with Lilly I used cloth diapers (until she only needed one nighttime diaper a day because, trust me, it gets gross waiting to wash them till the bucket is full, so now I use the "Natural Choice" diapers at night). But I'm also trying to cut back on consuming... which is verrrrry difficult for me. I used to love shopping, really. Now, I'm trying to shop more at thrift stores or create my own clothing, as you've seen here, I'm sure. Same goes for furniture. For instance, we really needed some new dining room chairs (long -- and riveting, of course -- story I promise to get to another day), and I bought them from a garage sale, 6 for $30. Now I just need to re-paint and re-cover them.

Anyway, I don't want to sound like I'm tooting my own horn or anything, just want to get some ideas going and hopefully encourage you to make some "green" changes. Here's a great article about making green choices as an act of faith. To me, the two obviously go hand in hand (my faith and my responsibility to God's creation), but I know some people aren't so inclined. This article makes some good points (though it was preaching to the choir here). And here's a great book if you're looking to make some fun, crafty, and best of all very easy green changes. I absolutely love it -- wish I'd bought it sooner.

Feel free to share your ideas, too!