Month: July 2010 (Page 2 of 5)

A double post kind of night: Coming up Dandelions

From the start of the job application process I think I’ve done a pretty good job of sitting back and letting things unfold. Until tonight. I hit the wall.

I’ve understood that we can only do our best to plant the seeds but ultimately it will be God that brings the opportunity to fruition. Husband has done a spectacular job of seeking out the most fertile soil – not just scattering seed willy nilly – while also fertilizing at the prime hour, nurturing with water, and then we’ve sat back to see what will spring forth.

So far, we’ve sprouted a dandelion.

Now, we’ve seen the starts of several others, but nothing really bloomed. So we don’t even know what those plants were. But this one is bright yellow and sticky in your hands.

Now we’re faced with a challenge: what to do with it. Yank it out so that it makes room for the “real” plants? Is it just sucking the nutrients from what is yet to bloom? Do we put stock in the fact that there was much more seed, so surely there will be a harvest?

Or do we celebrate it as the beautiful opportunity in our bare field? It was, after all, created by God, and I’m sure he thinks it gorgeous.

As the daughter of a farmer, my father gaffed each time I expressed desire for sunflowers to make a home in our fields – they were so pretty, after all. He informed me that they were actually weeds and that once you get one, you can’t get rid of them. To a farmer, it was a pesky weed. But who doesn’t remember the early ’90s when sunflowers made their home in Country Living magazine as a decorating must-have? Nary a mother who didn’t have one appliqued on a sweatshirt. The sunflower wasn’t a weed; it was a symbol of bold beauty.

From a farmer’s perspective, it wasn’t food; that’s what made it a weed. If you’re trying to grow corn or beans, that wasn’t it. But actually, it is food. I’ve never been to a baseball game without sunflower seeds. It’s just not what the farmer intended.

So the question for us this evening is: is our dandelion food? Can it provide? Will it sustain the soul?

Nothing like a good noodle

I’m pretty sure that when Jesus comes back it will be scheduled around the ice cream social at JSUMC. Surely some saint that has gone before has mentioned Marge Kreachbaum’s noodles to the guy and hinted around that it’s probably the best way to usher in a new kingdom. So, for all of you date & time guessers out there, my money is on the time around the 3rd Thursday in July. Clearly, the event stands highly regarded in my book (this, along with any organization that sells a good BBQ Chicken dinner. I’m pretty good at making rounds on those as well).

Marilyn, the church secretary (one of my top 10 favorite people ever, largely because she put up with me and my shenanigans so well) once told me that “back in the day” (her words) when you signed up to help with the social, it was more along the lines of “i’ll give you 4 heads of cabbage from the garden” and then everyone would get together and make cole slaw. This led me to believe that hand-cranked ice cream used to be the norm as well (as opposed to buying from Hershey’s, which now is the norm), but I think she withheld that tidbit “for my own good” (not her words).

I’m kind of privy to that type of social. Don’t get me wrong: Marge and her carbolicious bounty are cause for celebration. But tonight I also watched a member bring in their allocation of baked goods, much thanks to the new bakery in town.

How did we go from planting the seeds, weeding the garden, harvesting the crop, slicing then pickling as our contribution, to simply picking up a dozen at the store? Never mind the phase where we purchased the ready-made mix but at least baked it in our own oven. Was adding the egg and oil really that much of a headache?

I realize I have a little bit of pot-n-kettle in me right now; I delivered a meal to a family with a new baby today and for sure counted on ol’ Betty for the brownies. I did, however, whip up my own homemade peanut butter cream cheese icing (Kimberly that was my third and final attribution, the recipe is now mine!). So I’m all to familiar with how easy it is to let the box do it better.

I think what makes me most sad, aside from nutritional concerns (this is the one time of year that H gets a plate with only whiteish-yellow food and I’m pretty cool with it), is the the loss of kitchen time that comes with it. Because if you’re not in the kitchen, where are you? I’m guessing at work. We haven’t traded conveniences for more time with the fam, but for more time with The Man. Because when we’re in the kitchen, we’re in the company with people we love the most.

One of H’s new favorite things is to help “stir” what mommy is making (and I’m sorry, but I still can’t let him just fling flour everywhere. I’m trying to “let go” but I’m just not there yet). And when friends come over for an evening, where do you end up? Hovering over the cream cheese-filled appetizer on the counter, men by the grill. One of my all-time favorite social gatherings is when our friends all empty out our fridges of whatever we can find and put together some semblance of a meal.

Food is far more than just what sustains our bodies. It’s cultural, social, even spiritual (make no mistakes that Jesus’ I am the Bread wasn’t because that happened to be the nearest intangible object). It brings us together. So many cultures in the world take the approach that once you share a meal together, you’re family (think: Olive Garden commercial). So why should we short change such an element in our lives? It’s just not something that can be bought, even if the bakery is 5 star.

So beyond the Marilyn-grown cole slaw, I mourn for the loss of experience when those ladies would get together to shred cabbage, poach chicken and roll noodles. I’d give a million to be a fly on those walls (except that I’m sure those ladies didn’t allow flies on the walls – they were going to sell that food!). They didn’t just share recipes, they shared their lives. And I like that. Almost as much as the noodles.

Month marker

It’s time once again to chronicle the children; it seems that Miss M keeps growing up quicker and quicker. No one warned me that #2 grows up exponentially faster than #1! We’ve had quite a streak of good days (weeks!) in the homestead, so I want to be sure to make note of it. As it says in the pumping room at work – “we don’t remember days, we remember moments.”

H boy (20 months)

  • Loves – loves – LOVES cornhole. At the lake he likes to play with the big boys, but I found a desk size set from Aunt Bec with 2 inch x 2 inch bags and all. I don’t think he’s put them down since I got them out!
  • He’s learning to dress – well, undress- himself. We can ask him to take his pants off and sure enough (5 minutes later) he can get them off. What a big boy. 
  • We went swimming at the hotel last weekend and he enjoyed that; he’d float in the raft or hang on to a parent with a death grip. 
  • At the wedding last weekend we noticed he is in a more social stage – wanted to run around with the kids (who he didn’t know!) and play on the dance floor. No more sitting with mom and dad at the table?
  • His babbling just keeps progressing and you can now notice what words he’s targeting – “what’s that?” or “there it is”. KLR came over last week and started filling in some big gaps for what she thought he was saying and it all seemed to make sense. Turns out H’s speech is fine – it’s mommy that needs a translator. (Should I, in typical American-meets-non-native-english-speaker fashion, I just start speaking LOUDER??). 
  • We are also in that phase of leaving no ball untouched. And since he owns no less than 8000 different balls, we hear continuously “ba? ba! BABA!”
  • When he’s excited, there’s definately jumping involved – today I even saw 2 feet leave the ground! 
  • Feeding himself? Old hat. Well, except spaghetti. And daddy has some difficulty with that one, so there’s time. 
  • One of the best parts of the day is after H wakes up and daddy goes in to retrieve him. Their conversations are hilarious. One day they named the diapers. Who comes up with that? It’s one of the many reasons I love both of them. 
  • Oh, and those size 4 shoes I shopped around for weeks to find? We’re now in a 6. Thanks to grandma Carol, however, our feet are covered. 
  • I should also mention that because “all good bananas come to an end” (words of wisdom from daddy) and we’ve limited his intake, he’s moved on to raisins as a favorite snack. Those have been relocated to the top of the fridge or he’ll just bring the container out and mow down. I suppose it’s better than candy, right?
  • H loves to share (well, on his own terms. He’s not even 2, after all), especially with his sister. He even brought over his bean bags the other day for her to hold. Now that’s love.
  • A few times now H has not wanted to continue in a napping pattern. We lay him on the big bed and he’s suddenly into it. Perhaps a change of nocturnal setting will be coming for him soon?

Miss M (13 weeks)

  • She has gotten so big! We go to the doc to find out exact weight this week. But I can tell from lifting she’s surpassed a good number of pounds. 
  • What a giggly girl! She loves to laugh, especially at her brother.
  • She’s especially ticklish under her feet.
  • She’s starting to get this sleeping thing down pat. We’re taking 2-3 regular long naps with a few short catnaps here and there in between. We go to bed every night around 7-7:30 with typically only one short snack in the middle of the night. If we’re good to her and put her down in a timely fashion, she goes right to sleep, no real bouncing required.
  • However, her favorite time of day is 6:30am. I’ve tried convincing her in many ways that the hour is best enjoyed while sleeping, but alas, she wants to spend the time talking about her feelings. What. a. girl. 
  • She enjoys sitting in her Bumbo now, so she’s regularly a part of the family meal. We’re going to outgrow that countertop soon. 
  • M also enjoyed the swim time at the hotel, which was a relief since bathtime isn’t high on the list of favorites. But she stayed in for a long time – it was mommy that decided enough was enough. 
  • She’s still got her baby blues, but hair is shading toward a reddish hue. Not so much like her mama’s; more like her daddy when he grows facial hair. A ‘berry blond she might be? 
  • She’s also now pretty good in the car. The only unhappy time is when she’s within 5-10 min of a nap and she has to be a bit vocal in letting us all know she is attempting sleep. Perhaps her way of asking nicely, “mother, would you please turn down that radio?”

The caregivers
Daddy has taken on numerous projects as of late: planning my 30th birthday (did you know he has trouble keeping secrets?); painting the house (we have several windows done, several more to go); researching pools (no, we can’t even have one in this house – must have a fence with it and we’re not allowed a fence – ergo…); looking at HUD houses (because we’ve found so much time to work on this one!); interviewing (3 in the last week!) and lots of cornhole playing with H. His softball season is winding down, so he should be able to walk on Tuesdays again very soon.

I’ve finally switched it up to the 8-noon work schedule and I LOVE IT. Oh, happiness! It gets me moving for the day (I put on pants with a zipper by 7:30 at least 4 days out of the week!), I feel functional and I’m around others, but then I’m home in time that I only miss one of M’s feedings (decreased stress there), enjoy lunch that SuperHusband made, get stuff done during naps, figure out dinner and enjoy the evening. Today I even found myself with more than enough time on my hands. So I baked. I’ve been needing to add variety to our snack life, and it’s blueberry season, so I’ve made a few batches of blueberry muffins. Tonight’s utilized spelt instead of white flour, oats & wheat germ, banana, walnuts and, of course, blueberries. I find them to be quite delish and filling as well. I also did a round of granola bars with peanut butter. I’ve finished off several books as of late (reviews coming – one was quite thought provoking!), and I’ve even fit in a workout about 4 nights a week. Jillian and I are becoming pretty good friends. I must say, it’s quite exciting when the next step up gets easier after doing it only once. But oh, the soreness that is the day after! With much hope, results will soon be evident.

So, that’s about it on the home front. Just a quick note to self to remind me how sweet life really is.

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