Amelia is Rabbit

No Baby Yet Ramblings

2012-02-15T23:14:00.001-06:00

I really should be doing the dishes or something, but I'm not. I realized that I haven't checked in here for a little while, along with the fact that I haven't don't anything personally creative in a while. And there are ten minutes to go before the hubby gets off of work. Time for some ramblings!

Baby E is still sitting tight...unless you count the ridiculous amount of movement between 8-11pm each night. I was having more excitement last week with contractions than I am this week. I'm pretty much convinced that he realizes how cold it is out here and how Very Busy his older sister is and that he has decided that staying warm and sleepy is the best idea. I don't really blame him. So often I would rather stay warm and sleepy in my bed instead of facing cold Real Life and having H rub the skin off of my body in the process. But I do want to see the little squirt at some point, and I'm getting really tired of not being comfortable while sleeping. I would also like to be able to bend again, do Jazzercise like somebody younger than 80 years old, and wear skinny clothes.

(I would like all of the outfits from the new Boden catalog. Please and thank you very much.)

When we were down to the last week before Harriet's Safe and Happy Outcoming, Steve and I had played Phase 10 more times that you could count, exhausted my patience level with Civilization II, and were generally pretty awful cranky pants. Also, I think we went bowling. What are we doing this week?

Homework. I'm chugging along as quickly as I can through my schoolwork and I'm currently two weeks ahead on my assignments. I desperately want to stay ahead of the game.
Sickness. Some mysterious food-related illness confiscated my body (and Harriet's body) yesterday and left us rather wasted. Being sick is awful but being sick while pregnant is particularly bad. I wanted to crawl out of my skin or die or something. I also kept having melodramatic thoughts like, "What if I go into labor, but I'm too exhausted to do it, and they have to do a c-section...and then I'll be EVEN MORE MISERABLE!" Happily, none of my predictions came true. I'm feeling much better today, so long as I don't eat very much at once.
Car. Steve and I were Big Grown Up Adults this morning and got our car switched from an Illinois title to a Nebraska title, re-registered, and put the new plates on the very vehicle itself. Seriously, people, this is big for us procrastinators. Now we can't blame our erratic (ha!) driving behaviors on "being from Illinois."
Sewing. I hemmed two pairs of jeans and patched two pairs of jeans in about 2 hours this afternoon. Oh yeah.
Co-Sleeper. We got the co-sleeper assembled and affixed yesterday afternoon and it looks splendid. Harriet loves it because she can climb up onto the bed and then into the co-sleeper without assistance. She piles pillows and stuffed animals into the co-sleeper, and then snuggles down and reads her books. It's so adorable. Poor Baby Edmund. I think that H can sleep in the co-sleeper and E can sleep with me.
Valentine's Day. We actually celebrated on Saturday night, which was positively providential since I felt so totally disgusting yesterday. We wandered about a mall, took Harriet to a toy store and delighted in the plethora of Melissa and Doug toys on display, ate at the new Panera, and bought each other very silly presents at Wally World. You see, Steve and I have a complex about buying gifts for each other: we feel this tremendous pressure to get the most perfect present possible for each occasion which results in Steve not getting me anything and me stressing out. I set the rules for Valentine's Day...we each had $5-$10 to spend and we had to get something really stupid. I got Steve some Star Wars PJs, and he got me some silly movies. It was a fun and giggly time.

And the hubby is home. Hello, Steve. Hello, more Braxton Hicks.

Good night, blog.

Enjoying the Present

2012-02-06T23:05:00.001-06:00

"The humans live in time, but our Enemy destines them to eternity. He therefore, I believe, wants them to attend chiefly to two things, to eternity itself and to that point of time which they call the Present. For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity. Of the present moment, and of it only, humans have an experience analogous to the experience which our Enemy has of reality as a whole; in it alone freedom and actuality are offered them. He would therefore have them continually concerned either with eternity (which means being concerned with Him) or with the Present - either meditating on their eternal union with, or separation from, Himself, or else obeying the present voice of conscience, bearing the present cross, receiving the present grace, giving thanks for the present pleasure." - The Screwtape Letters

"Maybe it’s about this: God uses the day to seize us. God carpe diems.

God seizes the days: God seizes time and uses it as an instrument to transform. God seizes every moment to sculpt souls and shape lives and transform ashes into glory. What if isn’t so much about seizing kairos moments and surviving chronos moments — but seeing all as Christ-filled moments? That God seizes the moment to make me more like Christ and what if I seized more of the moments, because there is something of my Savior in them?" - A Holy Experience (read the rest of the post here)

Necessary reminders to be present in the Present as I face the paradox of desperately wanting the next few weeks to fly by so we can finally see Baby E...and desperately wanting to find the hidden pause button that will make dear Harriet stop Growing Up so quickly.

Summer pregnancy versus winter pregnancy

2012-02-03T22:39:00.000-06:00

At MOPS a few weeks ago there was a rather lively discussion about which is best: a summer pregnancy or a winter pregnancy. Having experienced both, I have to say that I like being pregnant in the winter better overall for the following reasons:

I am not cold. I hate being cold and having 35 pounds of extra matter keeps the blood flowing. Also taking so much extra effort to move around. Steve always comments on my freezing cold feet when he gets in bed, but that hasn't been the case since being pregnant.
I am not hot. Usually I like being warmish, but being pregnant in the summertime stinks. It's so sticky and nasty.
Cardigans are super flattering. Thanks to Kylie's collection of maternity clothes, I have been enjoying an ample supply of sweaters and cardigans and I just love how they minimize the shelf-like bump that is protruding from my abdomen.
I can wear jeans. Maybe super-skinny pregnant people can enjoy wearing shorts, but I prefer to cover up as much of my preggo body as possible. Flared or even skinny jeans with boots are so slimming.
I have more energy. This is directly related to being neither too hot nor too cold.
Exercising is easier. Again, it's really nice to not die of heat stroke every time I go on a walk. Plus I don't feel bad about never ever wanting to wear a maternity swimming suit.
I can look forward to having an older baby in the summer when we have more opportunities for Outside Activities.
Baby E and I can share winter birthdays. Oh yeah.
Little winter baby suits are so stinking adorable and my poor child will not be obligated to show off his skinny legs.

Of course, while being pregnant in the winter does have it's definite perks, I think that having a baby in the winter will be challenging. The main issue will be the necessity of remaining in hibernation until the weather warms up. I loved being able to take Harriet outside in the stroller - in fact, it was a total sanity saver and waistline trimmer. I'm fairly certain that I will be deterred from taking E anywhere when it's cold. Also, there are just more germs and bugs floating around in the winter. Just another reason for a winter baby to stay in hibernation.

The moral of the story is that a lot of people are going to have to come keep me company or take Harriet away before I lose my mind to cabin fever.`

The Antics of Harriet Alice

2012-01-30T23:02:00.004-06:00

It's time to do a little update on the ol' HarriEd. She is so-very-close to being nineteen months old, you see, but she acts like she's five or six or something. Her father can't believe that she is only going to be turning two this summer. Surely she is older than that.

Harriet has really progressed into more imaginative play over the past few weeks. The above picture shows Harriet in her beloved "bucket" (a turquoise plastic gardening tub, to be precise) with her pillow and blanket. She is pretending like it is her bed. Sometimes she pretends like she is sleeping, complete with snoring noises, but she keeps her eyes open lest we fall prey to her trickiness and think that she is actually asleep. Harriet puts everything useful into the bucket. Today her yellow plastic table is in the bucket. I don't really know why it is so exciting to sit on top of the table inside the bucket, but there you go. Maybe layers of toys are just better?

In addition to the bucket infatuation, Harriet is also recently attached to these Wiggles slippers. She found them at her grandparents' house yesterday, the slippers having once belonged to a Small Aunt, and she flat out refuses to remove them from her feet. She calls them her silly shoes and giggles rather ridiculously as she putters around the house. She even had to wear them over her real shoes into the grocery store. (I win major mom-props for that, okay?) As you can see, Harriet suffers from a rather rambunctious case of bedhead no matter the time of day. This has to be from the Rodgers gene pool. It has to.

The other great excitement has been the gifting of a Tunnel from her Rodgerian grandparents. This tunnel is actually part of a lovely indoor/outdoor tent situation, but Harriet just likes the tunnel. In fact, she greets it every time she comes into the room and cries when Steve puts it away. Harriet likes to sit and read books in her tunnel, crawl through it quickly and make loud screaming noises, and attempt to get Flori to go through the tunnel on command.

If I could sum up Harriet in one word it would be: BUSY. It seems like the only time this kid will stop moving is when she is watching Timmy Time, but even then I will glance over at her and see her little foot tapping in time to the theme music. She is also very quick to point out when anything isn't right. She repeatedly announces when things are "broken" or "stuck" or "yuck" or "messy." Sometimes she makes the mess and then loudly says, "MOMMY! MESSY!" while pointing to the disaster. Tonight's unfortunate pooping in the bathtub episode was rather traumatizing, however. It was definitely a "yuck."

A fun mess to make is helping Mommy cook. Harriet sits very safely on the counter and eagerly helps me "dump" whatever ingredients I need into a bowl or pot. Today we made oatmeal cookies and I was glad the recipe called for applesauce instead of eggs.

I'm trying to be more intentional about our afternoons. Harriet usually just chills in the morning and does her own thing or helps me with chores and errands. But the afternoons can get rather testy if we don't have a plan. Thankfully, the weather has been super duper nice lately, so our afternoons usually involve some outside time. But when we can't do that, Harriet and I like to do some crafting. Her fine-motor skills are astounding. She can accurately stick foam shapes onto surfaces like this Valentine's Day card that she made for her Granmom. She is also really good at stringing beads onto pipe cleaners. That is my new favorite non-messy activity.

Harriet doesn't really know what to do about the idea of a Baby E yet, and I don't expect her to. As clever as she is, it is impossible to explain the abstract concept of a Baby Edmund coming out of Mommy's tummy. She doesn't even try to repeat my warm preparatory remarks. She just looks at me like I'm crazy. We pulled out all of E's clothing this evening to take inventory and she kept saying, "Edmund's suit!" So I guess she'll be prepared to dress him.

Just a few more weeks of it being Only Harriet. I hope we can make the most of it.

Miscellaneous pregnancy thoughts

2012-01-27T23:06:00.003-06:00

I went to my 36-week doctor's appointment today. I don't know why I was so anticipatory, but I guess I felt like it was the final hoorah! before the weekly appointments begin and I'm always excited to see Baby E and his cute little self doing so very well. When the nurse was checking my vitals, I asked if I was supposed to have the routine GBS test and the nurse said, "Well, usually we wait until 36 weeks, but since you're at 34.2 weeks, I don't think it's going to happen."

I stared at her in a rather stupefied manner and said, "Actually, I'm at 36 weeks. I was at 34 weeks the last time I came in."

"Nope," she replied confidently. "The Wheel says that you are at 34 weeks."

The Wheel. Have a mentioned how much I despise that little wheel that the nurses pull out to check my dates? It is wrong every single time and they insist that it is correct - like it is the Almighty Infallible Wheel That We Mustn't Anger. Not only is it so tiny that it is impossible to read, but it is made out of cardboard. Surely there is some other way to figure these things out. Like, oh, asking the patient if she thinks that The Wheel is accurate. Because I can count, people, and I know that I am 36 weeks. You can't just magically "lose" two weeks of a pregnancy, just because The Wheel told you so. Bah!

My blood pressure returned to its normal state when my doctor came in and the first words out of her mouth were, "You are not 34 weeks. You are 36."

Really. Thank you very much.

In other Baby E news, he is all cleared for landing when the time comes. It's a dangerous thing to tell me that information because I want to get all excited when in reality he could come in three weeks, or four weeks, or more. But knowing that he's all set to go is encouraging and I find that my anticipation exceeds my extreme dislike of being poked and prodded and hospitalized. It's a different feeling than with Harriet. I was so focused on the labor and delivery aspect and how well I would perform that I really had no idea how fantastically wonderful and frightening it was to have a newborn. Now I'm most definitely thinking more about actually having the kid and getting to enjoy him than I am about the birthing process. (It also helps to just plan on getting an epidural. Call me an unwomanly wimp, but I love those things and the thought of actually enjoying labor is so freeing. Also, I saw the anesthesiologist at the tennis courts the other day when Steve and I were playing. I was thinking, "That guy looks so familiar. Where have I seen him before?" Then I remembered. Part of me was glad that I hadn't made a lot of eye contact, and part of me wanted to run up and tell him to get his stuff ready and not take so long this time around....)

The issuing forth of Baby E is probably on my mind not because I am extremely uncomfortable or all that sick of being pregnant but rather because the Braxton Hicks contractions are very prevalent and strong throughout the day. I never felt these with Harriet at all, so this is just a new experience all around. Hey, I'm all for my body doing the work without my being in horrible pain. Keep on squeezing!

Baby E has quite the collection of clothing now, thanks to the purchases of grandmothers, aunts, and friends. I didn't know if I would really find a style of boys clothing that I like, but I think that we have settled on classic stripes and plaids, zoo animals, robots, dinosaurs, and happy monsters. Sports will make their way in, naturally, but preferably no fire trucks or trains. Oh well, those will make their ways in I'm sure. He'll be adorable no matter what type of hobby he is advertising. So far H hasn't decided to put Baby E's clothes on her baby doll, but she is ever so busy changing its diaper, pushing it in the stroller, and sleeping with it. Baby E may come as a bit of a shock since he a) won't be as flexible, b) will not appreciate being carried around by the head or dropped on the floor, and c) probably will want Mommy to change his diaper.

I can't believe it's almost February. Can not believe it.

Wednesday night ramblings

2012-01-25T23:27:00.001-06:00

Steve isn't back from work yet. This is the second night in a row that he has been rather late. There is chocolate pudding cake waiting for him on the counter and it's in his best interest to get home soon so that I don't eat it all.

I had a very pleasant birthday, thank you all very much. Several things about my twenty-fifth birthday stand out:

I decided that turning twenty-five is a pleasant, mid-twenties-with-children sort of feeling. And I really like it.
I thought that it was really the best idea to make my own Fun on my birthday, so I did. I received several coupons associated with all of the silly rewards cards that I have (Qdoba, Starbucks, Runza, etc.), so I used as many as possible and that was fun. I also finished a quilt that I started a whole year ago and generally made the choice to be in good spirits and not let the crummy weather or Sunday sleepiness affect me.
Steve did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. Since I abhor cleaning the kitchen this was the best gift he could give. He also gave me flowers. And he was called "ma'am" many times at the Runza drive-thru which made me laugh really super hard.
Since 2006, I have only spent one other birthday with my family. It's really special to hang out together, eating lettuce wraps, wonton soup, chocolate trifle, and getting such thoughtful gifts. Hooray for The Food Matters Cookbook, a pedicure gift certificate, earrings, a CD of all of the pictures of Harriet, and moolah for a post-pregnancy wardrobe update.

Here is the husband after all. Goodnight!

Movies of Harriet

2012-01-19T23:11:00.002-06:00

Steve's parents generously gifted us with a Flip camera for Christmas. This was a welcome gift since the Flip I bought for Steve last year was mysteriously crushed in our computer bag. (And this is when I start to wonder why I even bother putting stuff where it belongs....) Most of you are aware that I am really bad about capturing those precious, once-in-a-lifetime moments on any sort of photographic device. But recently I have been making a feeble effort to grab the Flip and get some of this on film. Or digital bits. Or whatever.

You will probably be more interested in this stuff if you are related to Harriet.

In this movie, Harriet shows off her skills at using edible fingerpaint. (It took a lot for me to let everybody get this messy, but it was definitely worth it. We're so totally doing this again.)

Here we have Harriet revealing that she can match colors correctly. I was shocked.

And finally, Harriet's bath time opera, accompanied by her mother. Ooh, lala.

Ta-ta for now....

What Grace-filled Parenting Looks Like for Me (rather lengthy)

2012-01-14T23:20:00.000-06:00

The following psychoanalysis needs a bit of a back story. Here we go.

The Television Crisis
There has been a crisis in my mind over an issue the past few weeks that reached a breaking point yesterday afternoon. It's the issue of How Much Media Should Harriet Consume in a Given Day. I'm not sure why this is such a big deal to me right now, but I've run over the entire scenario a million times in my head: how much "television" she watches (primarily in the form of Wiggles, Timmy Time, and The Muppet Show) each day, what the motivation is behind her being allowed to watch these shows, what end result I want her to have from consuming media, etc. I've talked about it with Steve. It all checks out. Fine. Dandy.

But for some reason, it's not fine and dandy. My brain won't rest from the relentless whispers....

"Her brain will turn to mush."
"She will prefer media over creative play."
"She will grow up to be a stupid person...like every other American kid." ("But she'll be a happy stupid person," Steve helpfully says.)
"She doesn't watch as much TV as [insert name of person]. It can't be that bad."
"My friends don't let their children watch movies. I'll be judged."

And then I internally combust, burst into tears, and declare myself to be a complete parenting failure, while Harriet looks on with horror.

Upon further mental inquiry, I discovered that television is just one of many areas in which I feel tense when it comes to parenting. What about her diet? What about her naptime and bedtime routines? What about her relationship with Steve...or me? So many things send me into a tizzy, and television just happens to be the breaking point this week.

The Deeper Issue

This anxiety really has its root in a much deeper issue, as I was to realize. I have been reading Grace for the Good Girl off and on since I wrenched it back from my mother's clutches, and the chapter on being responsible really struck a chord with me. The author talks about hiding behind a mask of responsibility and strength and never wanting to look weak, have the wrong answers, or ultimately fail. She defines responsibility as "liable to be called on to answer; liable to be called to account as the primary cause, motive, or agent; being the cause or explanation." In many real ways, I am responsible for Harriet; because she is my child, I am called to account, as her parent, for many many aspects of her life. I am responsible for caring for her physical needs, her development, and for sharing the Word of God with her. But there comes a point at which I stray from being responsible for Harriet to managing Harriet - in other words, I assume responsibility for aspects of her life for which I am ultimately not responsible.

Here's what it comes down to: I believe with all of my heart that God is the only one who can save Harriet and bring her into a right relationship with Him. However, my actions and my continuous fretting reveal that I do not believe that He will sanctify her and finish the work that He has begun. Somehow, it's up to me to manage her life, present her with only the best and right and perfect life choices, and therefore make her into a healthy, functional, creative, perfect human being. There is no room for grace in this mindset, only room for fear and terror of messing up in so many ways. (Because I will mess up, and if I haven't already bombed it on a thousand different levels, it is only a matter of time before disaster strikes and she goes on a Wiggles marathon.)

The scariest thing about this position is that my intensity to get it all right all of the time is going against everything I want Harriet to understand about her relationship with God.

"Sure, Harriet, God is gracious and loving and gives grace in abundance for our every need. But that doesn't apply to your mom. She's all freaked out about getting everything right and not messing up. There's no grace for her parenting."

Yikes.

The Need for Grace-filled Parenting

There's a lot of chit-chat in the evangelical blogging world about some recent books focused on grace-filled parenting. While I haven't actually read these books, I have read numerous reviews of the various titles and grasp the general jist. Many of them focus on extending God's grace to children in discipline and some even go so far as to encourage bringing up the gospel constantly in every day conversation. This is lovely stuff. But I was thinking about what it means when kids can not only receive grace from their parents, but can see their parents being able to receive grace from God.

The truth is that Harriet can see me hemming and hawing with nervousness every time I push the play button on another episode of Timmy Time. She can hear me grumping about "never getting the house cleaned up like it should be." She can hear me complaining about always being a failure and feeling defeated. When I stop and consider this, I am ashamed and convicted. It is far, far, far more important for Harriet to understand that I can receive grace from God for the challenges of each day than it is for her never to see me mess up.

Does accepting God's grace for my parenting instead of living in perpetual fear mean that I throw all caution to the wind? Does it mean that Harriet eats chocolate ice cream for dinner and spends her entire day in front of the television? Absolutely not. It's still my job to teach her to make good, wise choices that will ultimately glorify God. But it is not my job to stress about making sure that Harriet turns out okay. That's the huge difference for me.

Back to the Aforementioned Crisis

So the need for me to accept grace in my parenting of Harriet slapped me in the face yesterday afternoon. As you can imagine, I love black and white, right or wrong answers for parenting issues. But living in grace-filled parenting means that I will have to seek God in all of the multitude of gray areas - those areas, like media consumption, for which John Piper hasn't written an essay on exactly what to do. (Laugh now, please.) I thought about how this change of heart would apply to my anxiety about Harriet's media intake:

- Instead of limiting or being liberal with media consumption, I would look at the structure of our day in making a decision. Do I need time to finish some homework? Does Harriet need some downtime while I'm exercising?
- I would consider how media consumption affects our relationship. Am I popping in the Wiggles because I'm copping out of actually spending time with Harriet? Or are we engaging in an interesting DVD together? (A perfect example of how this played out yesterday: Harriet woke up in a horrible funk, fussed the whole time she ate breakfast and got dressed, and finally settled down in front of The Muppet Show. Twenty minutes later, it was like she had pushed a reset button on her attitude: she was happy and fun for the rest of the morning and instead of getting more and more frustrated with her behavior, I enjoyed her company.)
- I would not beat myself up or compare myself with other moms who make different choices about media consumption.
- I would seek God about if we need to make changes about Harriet's media diet.

The Bottom Line

This concept of moving from intense management to embracing grace-filled parenting is still percolating in my brain. I'm praying that it will become more than just a good idea, but actually make a difference. Harriet will undoubtedly model what she sees. Will she become a manager and live in constant defeat in taking on responsibilities that are not her own? Will she rebel against all of those "silly standards" that her mom stressed about keeping in place?

Or will she make wise choices in light of living in the grace of God?

Top Five of Parenting (thus far)

2012-01-12T07:00:00.000-06:00

I saw this neat post idea over at Maybe Matilda (check her blog out for some super cute crochet tutorials and general fun-ness) and I thought to my little self, "I need to regain some perspective on parenting the H, especially before Baby E arrives. This looks like a fun way to go about doing it." And in all reality, I like doing writing activities that trigger new lines of thought. So here we go: the top five of various aspects of parenting Harriet. These are in no real order, just as they come to mind. I'm sure I will forget something, but who's perfect? Not me.

Top Five Victories

Getting Harriet to sleep through [most] of the night and to go to bed three hours before I do. Those of you with needy nighttime children can understand how much of a victory this is.
Nursing for 11+ months successfully. Breastfeeding made me nervous prior to H's birth because I was afraid to mess it all up. Thankfully, that didn't happen and she was more than enthusiastic.
Teaching Harriet to enjoy all sorts of delicious food.
Not succumbing to Harriet's whining when I know that I'm the Mom and I'm in charge.
Having a little girl who genuinely wants to be around me.

Top Five Defeats

Feeling pressured to do certain parenting things just because everybody else is doing/talking about them.
Knocking H's head on the door when I picked her up after she fell off of the bed (tons and tons of screaming).
Feeling like I'll never be able to do enough.
Letting H get away with bad sleeping habits for much too long.
Being inconsistent with my decisions just because I want H to be quiet for two seconds.

Top Five Awesome Things She Does

Harriet loves, loves, loves to sing and dance. It is beyond adorable.
She loves to be around other people, especially her aunts and uncles and cousin, and genuinely expresses interest and concern for them.
She totally helps me cook and put laundry away.
She can "read" What's Your Sound, Hound the Hound? like a pro.
She loves to be chased and tickled by Steve and then follows up her squealing with a disapproving, "Daaaaddddy...."

Top Five Baby Purchases

The SleepyWrap now-called Boba Wrap. I would not have survived without that thing. Not in a million years.
Indestructible book
Stroller
The Baby Book
Hyland's Calms Forte

Top Five Conflicting Feelings

Wanting time for myself vs. not wanting to just plug Harriet into the Wiggles. Again.
Feeling inadequate vs. knowing I'm the best mom for H.
Needing sleep vs. wanting to get up and spend the morning with her.
Loving how she loves to spend time with others vs. wanting to spend all of the time with me.
Thinking that I'm the only one who can parent correctly vs. letting others give me a break.

Top Five Traits I Want Her to Develop

Saving relationship with Jesus Christ.
A brain that can really think, but is able to relate to people.
A love of books and England and Playmobil and learning (most of all)
A desire to serve her family and to be a good big sister
The knowledge that her worth is not based on her being a good girl.

Top Five Pieces of Advice Thus Far

You know your own kid better than anybody else and you know what is best for her.
Harriet is truly a high-maintenance baby. You aren't insane.
When all activities fail, read.
It's okay for her to scream sometimes...and it's okay for her to be weaned.
Use Lansinoh.

Top Five Perks of Being Harriet's Mommy

Getting squeezing hugs.
Having people notice what a cutie-patootie she is.
Sewing outfits for her.
Dancing around the house to Wiggles songs.
Watching her become her own unique, intelligent, insightful, purposeful person.

(January 11 - 3 yellow things that strike you as fresh mercy: my beautifully cheerful yellow walls, my yellow Fiestaware dishes, and yellow Emergen-C which perks me up when my body says otherwise.

January 12 - Something above you: the amazing stars which Harriet now points out to me.
Something below you: my sewing/crafting spot in the basement which brings so much personal creative fulfillment.
Something beside you: snuggling in the security of Steve every night - not just on four-nights-off.)

A little project

2012-01-10T22:13:00.001-06:00

Yesterday started out rather roughly. It actually started at precisely 3am when the illustrious Harriet decided that it was just the right time to launch into an inexplicable temper tantrum that lasted for an. hour. Now, I don't go to bed particularly early because Steve doesn't get home particularly early - and there is something about that uninterrupted husband time that is rather vital to my sanity. So when H started screaming when I had had about 2 hours of sleep, I was not terribly enthused. She slept restlessly until 8am when my alarm went buzzing off under my pillow (I had neglected to turn it off after getting up for church on Sunday). Then she started screaming again as if she were offended to discover that she had ever stopped. Brilliant. After whining through her breakfast and getting-dressed routine, I made the maternal decision to plop down with her on the couch and watch an episode of the Wiggles. Oh blessed Wiggles. Forty-five minutes later, Harriet was sufficiently recovered to behave quite splendidly for the rest of the day. And although I was exceedingly tired, having a not cranky child was delightful.

But this post is about a project, right? You see, Harriet slept for over two hours yesterday afternoon. It was incredible. I finished my schoolwork for the week and promptly marched downstairs to work on a sewing project. I saw this bag on Pinterest and immediately fell in love. I need a bag to tote my Jazzercise mat and weight around in and my drawstring bag was completely falling apart.

I made the bag from my absoballylutely favourite home dec fabric in the whole world...which was found on Pinterest as well. (The fabric was actually the leftovers from my wondrous living room curtains - now I can carry my favourite fabric around with me!)This yoga bag is fully lined and has three pockets on the outside to carry keys, cellphone, water bottle, etc. There isn't a whole lot of room for the weights in the pockets, so I roll them up inside my mat and that works swell.

As typical with Amy Butler patterns, the instructions leave nothing to the imagination and sometimes this attention to detail made the instructions not very clear at all. I read through them, got the global picture, and then kind of took off on my own.

At one point in the process I realized that I was mentally narrating everything I was doing. With a British accent. That, my friends, is how you know I'm completely zoned out and in my happiest of places.

I was so excited to take my bag to Jazzercise. When I got there I discovered that we were going to do the entire routine without the mat and weights. Bah. Oh well, I'll have something to show off next week.

(January 10th
A gift that's sour: my Norwex rag smells rather sour right now, but my kitchen consequently does not.
A gift that's sweet: seeing Baby E's sweet little nose on the ultrasound this morning.

A gift that's just right: Harriet Alice. Learn more)

What I Managed to Create Over Christmas Break

2012-01-06T19:30:00.000-06:00

I start classes again on Monday. Instead of taking five classes at once, I'm only taking two: The Literature of C.S. Lewis and Conflict Resolution. This semester is going to be a breeze - a much desired breeze since the advent of Baby Edmund will undoubtedly increase my responsibility levels. But what better way to reduce stress than by reading Lewis? I can't think of many.

In any case, I wanted to do something purposefully craft-y before the blessed break came to an end. I wanted to get the supplies for a project and actually finish it - something that rarely happens as evidenced by the chest of drawers and 3-4 Rubbermaid tubs stuffed with fabric and unfinished projects. Steve remains gracious and encouraging and said that I could buy the yarn to make the H a sweater. I found this pattern on Pinterest and bought brown yarn with a hint of a gold sparkle. And after crocheting off and on for nearly a week, I have the final results:

Let me just say that I LOVE this crochet pattern. The stitch pattern created a tight but flexible design which is perfect for a toddler's sweater. It doesn't oooze and lose its shape like so many other crocheted sweaters. The sizing was also super accurate. I compared the measurement of the 12-month size to teeny-tiny Harriet and it was perfect.

The obligatory Cousin Hug. We are trying to convince Harriet that she will never remember a time when she did not have matchy-matchy pictures with Jemima. Clara and I feel that this is only fair after all of the matchy-matchy pictures we had to endure.

Anyways, I'm really pleased with how the sweater turned out. It feels great to have a completed project on my super cute stinker of a kid.

A rather miscellaneous conglomeration about Harriet, Baby E, and How We've Spent the Holiday

2012-01-02T22:51:00.004-06:00

And now we come to my very favourite time of day: when Harriet is in bed, the dishes are done, and all I have to do is wait for Steve to come home from work. Don't get me wrong: I love spending time with the H, but there is this feeling of blessed relief when she is finally settled down and I can settle down, too.

Harriet is an incredible little person and that's all there is to it. We love to watch her roam around the house, busily organizing her toys or looking at books or moving her clean clothes to the dirty clothes basket (it's at that point that I usually intrude upon her private affairs and put an end to the clothes transfer). She has become so much more interested in playing - not just looking at her toys or carrying them around, but making them interact. We bought her a Playmobil dollhouse for Christmas and she loves to set up the family in their respective beds, make them eat their supper at the table, and arrange for hugs between the mommy and daddy Playmobil. She calls them her "Guys." Today I noticed that, instead of putting her animal puzzle pieces back onto the puzzle board, she lined up the pieces and made them "talk" to each other. It was adorable.

Harriet talks non-stop pretty much all day. She has opinions about everything and knows how to ask for whatever she pleases. I'm pleased to say that she is a polite person most of the time and showers us with "pleases" and "thank yous" as appropriate. Her favorite sentence is "Mommy, please? Otay," usually accompanied by the sign for please, just to emphasize her point. The tricky part comes when she simply cannot have what she so desires. The other day she found an empty Gerber cheese puffs container in the car (don't get me started on how much she adores said cheese puffs) and asked very nicely for some more. Since I was unable to produce cheese puffs out of thin air her polite asking soon turned into horrific wails of "MOOOMMMY! PLEEEEEEESE! CHEEEEESE CRACKERS! OTAY??" It was pathetic. Harriet is also combining more and more words to make sentences. Today she informed me, "Go outside. Baby, stroller, walk. Otay?" I'm really glad that she communicates so well at such a young age, especially since Baby E will be showing up shortly. I know that we will have our share of challenges, but at least I can understand what she wants and she can communicate with me.

Speaking of Baby E, can you believe that he will be here in only seven weeks? Yeeks! To be honest, I still forget that it's happening sometimes. I feel like I should still be in my second trimester and I can't understand why a) I can't sleep on my back, b) I have heartburn, and c) I feel as big as a cow. This has been such a smooth sailing pregnancy thus far that it wasn't until the other day that I felt ready to actually go through the labor/delivery/nurses-and-doctors-looking-and-poking-in-weird-areas process and just have this kid. It probably didn't help that it was a post-holiday, oh-my-goodness-I-weigh-500-pounds and I can't do the Just Dance video game to the best of my ability sort of moment. But Steve kindly listened to my bawling about wanting my body back to myself, I decided that I actually want to have this child (since that is the only logical way to get my body back), and we were all much better.

What in the world are we going to do with a little boy? I have an adorable Monsters Inc. sleeper for him. I suppose we will start off by dressing him in that outfit. Then we'll decide what to do from there.

The holiday season is over and we entered back into reality today. Steve's family came from hither and yon to celebrate with us and that made it all really special. Not very many people can say that they actually look forward to having in-laws descend for a week or two, but I can. That's a blessing and a half. After opening and enjoying many delightful Christmas gifts, we spent the rest of our break playing games, hanging out, and eating eating eating. It was lovely to have Steve home all day, every day. I could really get used to that. It was also lovely to have an ample supply of babysitters so that we could go on our "babymoon" to Omaha. We ate without getting indigestion from hopping about, slept until we were ready to wake up, and spent most of our time just Being. It was a good reminder of why we are married and I highly recommend that all married couples with children take a babymoon as the opportunity arises.

It was neat to see how Steve's Christmas gift to me and my Christmas gift to him really go together. He gave me a new cookbook (Ruhlman's Twenty), a book about the Puritans by J.I. Packer, Augustine's Confessions, and the first two books in the Master and Commander series. I gave him two tennis rackets, a bunch of tennis balls, and Tennis for Dummies. How do these go together, you ask? Well, our motivation behind these gifts was the same: we want to create different and meaningful ways to spend more time together. In short, we want to do things together - and not just sit and stare at yet another episode of The Office. We want to learn new cooking techniques, venture out into the unknown worlds of nineteenth-century sailors or tennis players, and grow together spiritually. It just makes me smile to think about how well we know each other - and how much more we have to learn. Yay marriage!

This is rather rambly, but oh well. In the nature of rambliness, take a few minutes to check out Clara's photography blog. She does amazing work and I'm not just saying that because she is my sister.

Good night!

The Blog is Back! (And New Year's Goals)

2012-01-01T08:26:00.001-06:00

Hello. I'm back. I missed writing on this bloggie bloggie, and the New Year seemed to be a perfect opportunity to rev things back up again. So thanks to the amazing Laura, the blog has a fresh design (isn't it cute?) and I'm ready to get back into the groove of typing.

At the end of each year, my mind wanders to what sort of goals or priorities I want to pursue in the New Year. Besides having two children under the age of two years and taking two distance classes and surviving (this is a bit of a tall order - I have only about six weeks left before it becomes reality...yikes!), I thought of three goals that have particular importance for me in the coming months. This New Year, I desire to:

Be fed consistently from the Word of God. This past year my devotional life has been spotty at best...and I can tell that lack of consistency and discipline in this area makes a difference. You know those days when you are so busy that you only grab snatches of things to eat here and there and at the end of the day you feel kind of...bleh? Yep, that's been my spiritual life this year. Bleh. To be honest, I'm scared about this goal, mostly because I feel so distant and I don't want to fail. But I preach about grace constantly and now it's time to live it.
Be more honest and less of a martyr. I want to be honest about my needs and just give up the stupid manipulation game with people - especially Steve. I want to be able to judge my motivation: will I be all resentful and bent out of shape if I agree to let him play video games instead of requesting his help with the dishes? Okay, Amelia, be honest.
Be intentionally creative. This goal isn't so very hard for me, but I want to keep it up. I want to have small or easily accessible projects in mind (thank you, Pinterest!) that can feed my creative spirit on a daily basis. That's one of the reasons why this blog has been revived and why I just bought yarn and started a sweater for H yesterday. I want to be creative for myself, and I want to encourage creativity in Harriet. She is one smart cookie, and as a smart cookie she desperately needs things with which to occupy her over active brain. I want to finger paint and make play dough and just have fun being creative with her.

There you go. Three relatively simple goals (and this year I need simple!), but I hope and pray that they will guide the daily decisions of the coming months.

I'm glad to see you all again. Happy New Year!

In Which Amelia is Chatty, Does Not Include Pictures, and Fails in the Cool Blog World

2011-09-29T07:08:00.000-05:00

Just peeking in for a bit until Steve gets home. I feel like being sort of random and scattered and actually doing something relaxing (like typing about everything and nothing) instead of running around feeling guilty for everything I should be doing.

Tomorrow I leave for Portland with the mother. That is all. No other children/spouses/relatives/friends are coming. Just the two of us. We are going to the Art and Soul crafting event and taking two classes: creating a fabric "anthology" portfolio thingie, and a crazy quilt purse. This event has been in the works since Silver Bella was cancelled in April. Despite the plethora of obstacles and family crisis over the past few months, we are still flying out of Denver tomorrow evening and arriving in Portland (and seeing Joan!) for the weekend. Our original plan was to take the HarriEd and find a babysitter, but when I calculated that she would be with a person she did not previously know for over 25 hours while I was in classes, I began to rethink our scheme. Not only would she not know the babysitter, but she would be in a new house when a new time zone, unknown napping and bedtime routine, etc. I would also spend a lot of money on the babysitter and all of the necessities to make H more comfortable. It just makes sense for her to stay home with her daddy in the morning and Clara in the evening when Steve goes to work. Then she can sleep in her own bed, eat at the normal times, nap as usual, and be with the people that she knows and loves. She probably won't really notice that I'm gone. Me, on the other hand? I'm really struggling with the idea of leaving her for five days. I know it's partially a pride thing because I have the tendency to think that I am the only one who can take care of Harriet properly, comfort her adequately, and so on. Also, I worry that something will happen to her that could have been prevented if I were home. I feel like it's back when I was so nervous about letting her sleep as a newborn. I wouldn't sleep all night because I was freaked out that something would happen if I wasn't watching her. Finally, I really had to trust God where the rubber met the road and truly acknowledge that he cares for Harriet infinitely more than I ever could. He is enough for her and he will care for her. Now I have to do that again. And I know I'll have to do that countless times for the rest of her life. Yeesh.

Today was busy but fun. First I ran over to Kid's Kloset to deliver some of the jeans I had altered and to leave an invoice for an outstanding alteration project. I love hemming jeans because it is so easy and relaxing, but it also provides a bit of extra cash for my other crafty projects. The funny thing is that whenever I go to the store to deliver a pair of finished jeans, the clerk will say, "Oh I'm so glad you're here! I have more jeans for you!" That has happened twice this week. It is such a blessing to have a little money-maker that uses my natural inclinations and gifts. Thanks, God.

After coming home and cleaning the house up a bit, Clara and Jemima, and Kylie and her two kids came over for lunch and craftiness. We had been planning to make these fabric pumpkins for a few weeks. Even though I was beginning to wonder what I was getting myself into with having people over the day before The Big Trip, it was worth the screaming children, food flying everywhere, dog running away, etc, to push things through and make the pumpkins. They turned out to be such cute little guys! Pictures are forthcoming.

I like having a chance to let Kylie and Clara and their respective children hang out at my house. I really want to develop relationships with other moms that result in a supportive friendship, and not a guilt-inducing one. I feel like I can have Kylie over and my house does not have to be clean (the kids just completely bomb it anyway, so why bother?). My kitchen does not have to be spotless. I don't have to have make-up on or a perfectly coordinating outfit. I want friends to feel like they can come over and let their kids run a muck and it's okay. Because this is a season. Our kids won't always be screaming and stealing each others' cups...just because. Someday they will be old enough to stay home by themselves and then we can go get pedicures. But in the meantime, there needs to be support and acceptance. It needs to be okay to stop being a Good Girl...just for a little while.

(I've got to order the Grace for the Good Girl book. Just reading the first chapter was so convicting and helpful.)

Oops, Steve is home. I'll have to detail the magic of the chiropractor at a later date.

See you after Portland!

Joy Today

2011-09-16T17:27:00.001-05:00

It's pretty typical when I'm pregnant for me to think deeply depressing thoughts. Maybe it's hormones (okay, maybe a lot) but I always get all caught up in One Day Steve Will Die and we won't have any more adventures together and we never had our Real Adventures anyway because we were living every day life....

And then I realize that I shouldn't watch Up when I'm pregnant. Or ever.

So I am thinking about joy. Real, deep joy that comes from recognizing that every good and perfect gift comes from God. Every moment of sanctification comes from God and that's joyful, too. So here's my snappy little Five Minute Friday post of joyful things.

Joy is:
- when Steve gets home from work at night and no matter how rotten my evening is, we usually get a huge kick out of just Being together
- Harriet leaving in her hair bows
- having my spirit totally do an about face when I turned on the Newsboys' Adoration album when I really did not want to do the dishes
- feeling the Baby #2 squirm in such a very small yet determined way
- grinding fresh flour in my own mill
- getting huge squeezing hugs from the one and only Harriet
- finding myself crying again because really the joy is too much.

In which HarriEd is the main feature

2011-09-15T21:43:00.001-05:00

If blog silence is a sign of busyness then this is definitely true for me. Yeesh, life doesn't sit down and drink a latte very often...and neither do I. (Although I did drink a decaf latte today made with our wonderful, glorious, hard-working espresso machine. It was delightful and I was reminded that my days would be a lot more chill if I sat down and drank a latte when the afternoon gets edgy.)

There are lots of things to take pictures of - like the totally a.maz.ing paint job that my dear fambly performed on our house last Saturday. I have the Before pictures, which look appropriately awful with junk cluttering every surface, but the After pictures are still in the works. I got the pictures back on the walls and most of the living room re-organdised before the Wretched End of Summer Cold attacked my personage. Basically life stopped after that. (I was glad it happened right after the first MOPS meeting of the year. Hmm...stressed out Amelia and big fatty cold. There couldn't be a connection there, eh?) I'm going to take After pictures when the curtains are up, and the throw pillows are on the couch. At least the bloggie bloggie motivates me to actually get this stuff done. HGTV ready or not, my living room and bedroom look incredible. And the basement was miraculously changed from Junk Dump Spot to Fun Family/Craft Room. Heavenly!

I did upload some pictures of the HarriEd today. That's what you get tonight, folks.

Zucchini pizza casserole is an all-time fave. She eats more than I do.

Harriet always uses her right hand for coloring, eating, etc. Sorry, Grami Cami! She also makes the sounds of letters every time she colors.

Houses are rockin' awesome and she will delight in one made out of boxes, baskets, chairs, or, in the case of this deluxe version, a blanket over a table.

Harriet will wear necklaces and scarves from the moment she gets up to the time she goes to bed. And also hair barrettes. She just doesn't take them off! She also likes to fix things with screwdrivers.

What better way to spend time with your daddy than playing the drums? (And wearing a lanyard.)

Harriet's latest venture into the land of adorableness is to really be interested in reading books. She has a basket of her own books (along with some from the library) and will repeatedly bring them to me throughout the day. Of course I have to sit down right then and read them to her. Her favourite is the Tomie de Paola Nursery Rhymes. I love it. Harriet also finds great delight in The Wiggles DVDs that we pick out at the library. She can do the whole Hot Potato song. I need to get that on video.

Big thanks goes out to my mommy-dear who kindly took Harriet on an afternoon outing to the library, Dollar General, and the bakery. Because of her efforts, I totally spanked an assignment to write an abstract on Ryrie's Dispensationalism, and I have a renewed sense of ability in my course-taking efforts. All I need are two hours of uninterrupted time to think and suddenly I can produce papers like the good ol' days.

(Except that I wouldn't trade my current days of squeezing in online classes with the good ol' days of school for anything. I am much happier with a hubby and a baby or two, thank you very much.)

Labor Day at the lake

2011-09-06T20:52:00.001-05:00

It was cool and ever so windy, but our afternoon cookout at the lake with friends was fantabulous. Even in the pre-packaged Wally World burgers were a little weird. (The hubby did a good job cooking them, however.)

Harriet loves her some Haddie and Judah.

They spent most of dinner prep getting on and off of the parking curb-thingie.

After eating about 5 million tomatoes and getting them all over her face and shirt, it was time for Harriet to hit the beach.

Thanks to Judah for donating the shovel.

And the bucket.

The water was still pretty warm despite the chilliness of the wind.

Clara and Jemima-bean were there, too. And Kylie and Nathan. I'm sure people have lots of better pictures, but hey! I remembered the camera this time. Sadly, the muchly-loved s'more fest back at the S home was not documented. It was a jolly good time.

Five Minute Friday: Rest

2011-09-02T12:33:00.000-05:00

Resting is kind of a scarce thing in our little house these days. Harriet is pushing her naptime and bedtime routines to new heights of insanity. She rolls and hollers and generally avoids rest for as long as possible. Then when she is finally asleep for the brief span of time, I emerge from the bedroom to see a pile of schoolbooks and a mountain of dishes and a to-do list as long as my body.

But I was thinking today that it really isn't an issue of how much I have to do, or how little sleep I get (thanks to the H). It's really an internal issue. There are these constant little voices saying things like

You aren't good enough.

You aren't skinny enough.

You aren't keeping Harriet in a good routine.

You can't keep the house clean to save your life.

You are so busy that you don't have time for your husband.

You fail.

That's where the real agitation lies. True rest for me comes not from leaving the dirty dishes and sitting on the couch eating chocolate chip cookies. True rest for me does not come from getting 10 hours of sleep (although that sounds really fabulous right now. True rest comes from silencing those stupid niggling voices and just doing what I'm supposed to do. As me.

Am I resting in who I am as the person God created me to be? More importantly, am I resting in who I am because of what Christ has done?

I was really blessed by the post here. And I really like Five Minute Fridays.

The Nebraska State Fair, etc

2011-09-01T21:57:00.000-05:00

We're very glad that the Nebraska State Fair moved to a town that is only 1.5 hours away instead of 3 hours away. Now we can actually attend and enjoy and take pictures to prove it.

(You can tease me all you want about how jacked up these photos are...but State Fair related pictures need a cheesy, vintage feel, don't you think? It's right up there with chili cheese fries and funnel cakes.)

Margaret won a purple ribbon in the fashion show. Woot!

Steve is loyal to the slightly sketchy Kabab House.

Harriet helped me eat my smoked turkey leg. I hope she didn't share my indigestion, as well. :-P

What's the fair without giant livestock?

Or prize winning photos? (Good job, Tim.)

Or a photo with the original Trigger?

Lydia's souvenir was a milk mustache.

And a ride with Eleanor on the swings.

Harriet and I went on the carousel.

And Steve, Jacob, Tim, and Margaret went on the Puke Machine. (Yep, they are upside down on the right.)

The fair was hot and we got dirty and really super sunburned, but it was a loverly way to spend a Saturday.

In other news, I have been trying desperately to keep caught up with school, keep the kitchen clean and keep Harriet from killing herself. Today was an exciting day as she refused to nap until after 3pm, dove off of the bed and split her lip open, and then threw Farmer Jed into the flushing toilet. Wowsers! She really is the best thing, though. And now she's sleeping so I can finally. have. some. me. time.

Crazy Life Happenings [in bullet points]

2011-08-26T17:42:00.000-05:00

My grandad passed away last Friday at home. It was a blessing that Levi and Clara were there when it happened. And it was a blessing that it happened on a Friday so that relatives and friends could get here over the weekend for the service on Monday afternoon. It was really a splendid service with military honors which reflected what he desired for a funeral. I learned yesterday that Texas A&M at Commerce (where he was a professor for many years) flew their flag at half staff in memorial of him. That's pretty special.
Grief is such a weird thing. I still haven't felt the need to have a huge deluge of tears. It's just more of a "bleh" feeling. I mean, it was so hard to see Grandad suffer at the end (although God was gracious in allowing him to be made comfortable by the morphine) and he was so unlike his usual jovial self that I am relieved that he is no longer dealing with that. However, it's the memories of him as he was two, three, or fifteen years ago that makes me feel sad.
A very good thing is getting to spend time with the crazy Texas relatives: looking at photo albums, swapping stories, and just laughing like crazy.

And another very good thing was spending time with the wonderful, fantastic D girls this week. I just can't get enough of their fellowship (sadly, I don't have any pictures on my camera) and it was a blessing to host them in the middle of a crazy week. They graciously postponed their arrival by twenty-four hours and then survived the chaos of family happenings. Maybe we'll have a visit when things aren't so hectic. But I doubt it.
Part of the hectic-ness occurred when I waltzed downstairs to let the ~~Cretans~~ dogs out of their kennels for an afternoon outing and discovered that there was 1/2" of standing water in one half of my basement. [insert much moaning, groaning, and general freaking out] Thankfully, the water was only on the unfinished side and everything that was on the ground was in plastic storage totes so we didn't lose anything. And I was so grateful that Jenny was the dog wrangler, Tim and Julia hauled out tons of soggy boxes, and Levi pretended to be stomping grapes on the water saturated blankets that were in the dog kennels. What caused the momentary disaster? The air conditioning was clogged up with dog hair and was not draining properly. My dear father came over with his air compressor and performed a very inexpensive fix. Now we're all dry!
Baby Jemima is a darling. She has the most massive baby legs I have ever seen. I hope our next baby is this deliciously chubby.

Can my life settle down for a few minutes, now?

Five Minute Friday: Older

2011-08-26T17:23:00.000-05:00

Harriet is getting older every day, every hour, every minute. I've known this and observed this since she was born, but this week her growth and development seems to have exploded. I keep wanting to tell inquiring minds that she is fifteen months (or fifteen years, for that matter) instead of almost fourteen months.

This week my sweet darling girl gained three new teefies, learned to say her cousin's name, and mastered the art of eating oatmeal with her own spoon.

But her major development was finally, finally getting over her perfectionist tendencies long enough to start walking. It is beyond precious to see her stepping carefully away from a piece of furniture, glancing in awe at her Robeez-adorned feet, and walking confidently toward the welcoming arms of a Small Aunt. I'm blown away every time.

People say, "Enjoy it now, they grow up so fast!" To be honest, I'm glad that Harriet is growing up. Each moment of her development opens up new areas for adventure...soon she'll be learning to read...and I can teach her how to sew...and she can go from being my little baby to the Friend I really want to have in my eldest daughter.

(And it also helps to know that there is another little Rodgers on the way. That way I can enjoy watching two sweet children grow older.)

Five Minute Friday: He Makes All Things New

2011-08-19T13:47:00.000-05:00

It's hard to think about things being "new" when I feel sabotaged by morbid thoughts of sickness and death. It creeps in everywhere...the prayer request at church for the family of a baby who died after a premature birth...the daily experience of watching my grammy and Clevi watch my grandad slip away toward death...it even sneaks into the books I pick up at the library.

The fact of life is that death is imminent and it effects every one. It's easy to get depressed. What is there to really live for? Is it just plugging along here on earth and then dying? What are we doing?

But this gives hope:

⁵⁰ Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; nor does corruption inherit incorruption. ⁵¹ Behold, I tell you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed— ⁵² in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. ⁵³ For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. ⁵⁴ So when this corruptible has put on incorruption, and this mortal has put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.”^[g] ⁵⁵ “ O Death, where is your sting?^[h] O Hades, where is your victory?”^[i] ⁵⁶ The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. ⁵⁷ But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 15:50-57)

There is something else, something new that is coming. God will make all things new...in a twinkling of an eye (which, as I think C.S. Lewis mentioned, is such a cheerful and wistful action). There is a point and something better is coming.

So, in light of this:

Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord. (1 Corinthians 15:58)

We keep going and in the middle of entropy and death, we look forward to something new.

(This was my first time writing a 5 Minute Friday post. The theme was "New," yet the topic of this post has been on my mind for a few weeks.)

Cooking Adventures: Flatbread Pizza and Goo-Goo-Ga-Ga popsicles

2011-08-16T22:29:00.002-05:00

Even when my crafting stuff is buried in the deep dark chasm of the basement, I do find a creative outlet in cooking. This is why I tend to contrive elaborate menus with involved preparation time even though I really need to keep scooping out my house. But it's fun! And rewarding and fuels my creative spirit.

(The sad news is that my camera is still out of juice, so I don't have blog-worthy pictures...or any pictures at all...of these cooking endeavors. I'll just have to use the power of words to induce you to try out these recipes.)

Flatbread Pizza

Most of you are aware of my infatuation with The Cookbook and the subsequent cult of Cookbook followers. Actually, The Cookbook is entitled The Food Matters Cookbook, written by Mark Bittman, and chock full of recipes that emphasize vegetables, whole grains, legumes, lean meats, and so on. The recipes are incredibly simple, absolutely delicious, and (this is the great part) inexpensive to put on the table. The flatbread pizza recipe is a perfect example. Not only was it absolutely delicious but it took less time to make than a frozen pizza. And it cost less, too! We tend to have pizza on Fridays, but this recipe was so easy and fabulous that we made it on Sunday night, too.

Here's the recipe for the flatbread (with changes by moi):

Easy Whole Grain Flatbread
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon salt
2-4 tablespoon olive oil (I used a cast iron skillet so I only needed 2 TBSP of oil.)
1/2 large onion, halved and thinly sliced
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary leaves, optional (The fresh herbs would be amazing, but I only had dried and it worked just fine.)

1. Put the flour in a bowl and add the salt. Slowly add 1 1/4 cups water, whisking to eliminate the lumps. (In his intro to this recipe, Bittman notes that use can use more or less water to create a more custardy or cracker-like flatbread. It's up to you.) The batter should be the consistency of thin pancake batter. If it's not, whisk up to another 1/4 cup water into the mixture, 1 tablespoon at a time. Cover with a towel and let sit while the oven heats, or up to 12 hours.
2. When ready to bake, heat the oven to 400*F. Put the oil in a 12-inch rimmed pizza pan or skillet and put into the heated oven. Wait a couple of minutes for the oil to get hot but not smoking; the oil is ready when you just start to smell it. Carefully remove the pan. Add the onion and rosemary if you're using them and give them a little stir. Pour in the batter, gently swirl the pan to distribute the oil and return to the oven.
3. Bake until the flatbread is well-browned, firm, and crisp around the edges, about 45 minutes. (It will release easily from the pan when it's done.) Let it rest for couple of minutes before cutting it into wedges or squares.

OR make a pizza!

I baked my flatbread pizza crust in a 450*F oven and flipped it over after 20 minutes of baking to give it a crispy crust on both sides. I baked it for about 10-15 minutes on the other side, cutting down the baking time significantly. I added toppings, stuck the pizzas back under the broiler for 3 minutes to brown the cheese and hooray! Pizza! We made two flatbread pizzas last Friday: three cheese and tomatoes and mushrooms. We noticed that the juices released from the tomatoes and the mushrooms made the flatbread really soggy and kind of weird. So, on Sunday night we sauteed the tomatoes and mushrooms before adding them to the flatbread and it worked stupendously. The crust has the yummy taste of a pan pizza with the crispyness of a thin crust.

Okay. Enough gushing.

Goo-Goo-Ga-Ga Popsicles

My fantastical discovery of the week has been the book Ice Pop Joy, by Anni Daulter. This book contains loads of recipes for organic, healthy, delicious...popsicles! The pictures that accompany each recipe make my mouth water. I want to make all of the popsicles. Some of the popsicles are the typical fruit variety (although the combinations are anything but typical), but many recipes are very inventive...like adding spinach or wheat germ or even tofu to give the popsicles a nutrious boost. Harriet loves ice cream (as in, hyperventilates when she sees it in the freezer), so I think that popsicles will be a great alternative, especially these healthy kinds. Today I tried the Goo-Goo-Ga-Ga popsicles which was a mango and an apple steamed until soft and then blended with 1/2 cup of Greek yogurt. Pour into the molds, freeze, and you have a happy little popsicle. Harriet went bonkers over it and sat in her highchair (shirtless, I must add) and sucked away for 45 minutes. Brilliant, I tell you!

And now for my popsicle mold story. Apparently popsicle molds are obsolete in central Nebraska because I looked high and low in this silly little town and came up empty handed. Not to be dissuaded (I wanted popsicles!), I found some horribly cheap little plastic containers in the dollar section at the local Wal-Mart knock- off that were just the right size for popsicles. Using brute strength and some really sharp kitchen shears, I poked a hole in the lids, and stuck a popsicle stick through into my pureed mango/apple/yogurt. They worked well...but I don't have a picture to prove it. Yet. I really need to invest in some Real Popsicle Molds.

So there you have it: cooking adventures from this week. I won't tell you about my banana muffins which turned into banana cake thanks to a mis-measuring of the milk. But I will tell you that H hyperventilated over chicken and rice stew this evening with the same enthusiasm as she regards ice cream.

This gives me hope.

The story that is my life

2011-08-12T23:14:00.000-05:00

I'm back in the wonderful world of internet! Yes, yes, I know I'm going to have to be careful about frittering away my time on that menace Facebook, but I've already enjoyed the half hour or so I spent browsing for maternity clothes tutorials. The Harriet is in bed, the dishes are done...what else is a girl to do while she waits for her Mr Wonderful to come home?

It has been a long while since there was a proper blog post. The funny (and relieving) thing is that my Google Reader has been very quiet lately, too. I think that late summer tends to breed either busyness or introspection and blogging takes a back seat. For me, blogging has taken a back seat to a tremendous quantity of busyness, insanity, logistics, stress, etc. Things are calming down ever so slightly (at least the county fair is over and done with), and the glorious fall routine is looming in the near future. And I'm itching to get back into the blogging world.

So, to bring you up to speed (although most of you readers know this stuff because you are a) family, b) close friends, or d) somehow connected with my family/close friends), I'm going to run through what has taken place somewhat categorically. Or something.

My grandparents:
Probably the most difficult event of the past few weeks is that my grandparents (with whom we are all super close) moved back from Colorado because my grandad decided to stop chemo treatment for pancreatic cancer and get on hospice. Not only did this create a bunch of logistical confusion (mostly involving a decision to go to a nursing home or to stay at home under hospice care), but it is also really strange and difficult to see my grandad physically challenged, confused due to the continuous influence of morphine and...dying. I told Steve that we are too young to have our grandparents getting old and ill. Thankfully, Clevi have committed to spending each night with Grammy and Grandad to help Grammy out and provide some assistance as the needs occur. But please be praying about all of this if it comes to your mind.

The brother:
Also high on our prayer list is the finding of permanent residential treatment for my brother, Peter. His violent behavior (which is the result of mental retardation) has grown to such an extent that he cannot live at home any longer. This is in spite of months and years of therapy, neuro feedback, medication, alternative settings, and so on and so forth. My parents have been working tirelessly to find and apply to residential treatment facilities that will meet his physical and mental needs and nothing has turned up yet. (He was denied placement at what would have been a perfect place because his mental capacity was greater than the clients they usually accept. Major bummer.) He will be entering a special ed class at our local school which will get him out of the house for the majority of the day and also give him something to do. Hopefully this will provide some immediate relief while the quest for a permanent location continues.

The house:
After living at the parents' house for almost three months, we were able to get back into our own place last week. What a huge, huge, huge relief. Don't get me wrong, I have been ever so grateful for the space, food, entertainment, pull-out couch, and support that my family provided. But I missed my dear little house and my air conditioning. The ironic thing is that after a blazing hot couple of weeks without A/C, we moved and we have only run our air twice. But those two times have been splendid! We're working on getting things pulled back together, getting our stuff re-organized, and planning on building a privacy fence for the back yard. We went grocery shopping the other night for the first time since being back in our house and Steve and I agreed that we felt all giddy and newly-wed again. I guess that's what it takes: any time we start losing the marital bliss, we'll go live with our relatives for a few months and then move back to our house.

The pregnancy:
It is weird to be pregnant with the second kid and just not be really paying attention to all of the What Is Happening This Week updates and such. Sorry, baby, but you're along for the ride for the time being. Things are going really well, overall, and I can't believe that Monday marks the beginning of the second trimester. I never had really puke-worthy morning sickness, but rather felt gross all day long and ate nearly everything in sight. This stopped at eleven weeks which completely freaked me out since I just woke up and felt perfectly fine. We have seen the little munchkin on the ultrasound several times and he/she looks healthy and big and active. Yayness! (And as far as the craving question goes, I don't really strongly desire anything except for large quantities of meat and Subway salads. And I can't stand anything remotely tart or sour. *willies*)

The Harriet:
I have to talk about the HarriEd because she is amazing and wonderful and adorable and ever-so clever and takes up all of my time every single day. She had a language skills explosion last week and while she has been saying words for several months, now she says things totally in context and without any prompting. I almost feel like I'm having a conversation with her instead of being her Dorling Kindersley vocabulary book. She says everything and mimics everything we say. Now I'm going to have to curb my rather flagrant use of "crap" and "stupid." HarriEd climbs on every surface she can get her teeny petite self up onto, but still refuses to walk despite her ability to do much more coordinated physical activities. She is like her daddy. And her mommy. (Although somehow we got over our phobia of trying new things long enough to learn how to walk.)

The other things:
In case I didn't have enough to do, I'm going to be starting online classes this fall with Calvary Bible College to finish up my degree. I was able to transfer over 90 credits which let me enter as a full senior. I don't think I'll finish it all in a year, especially with the baby in February, but I'm shooting for graduating in December 2012. Exciting! And I'm also hospitality and creative activities coordinator for our MOPS group this year. It's a lot of work but it is FUN and I'm brimming over with excitement about the craft ideas I've found online.

There you have it. This is kind of like a Christmas card in August, but I wanted to get the bloggie up to date before diving in again. I really do appreciate your prayers for the grandparents, for Peter, for my parents, and for the rest of us as we desire to help, support, and minister to them. Thanks!

Summer in the Swimming Pool

2011-07-20T21:16:00.000-05:00

When I saw this pink polka dot ruffled swimsuit on the rack at Target earlier this spring, I knew HarriEd simply had to make it part of her wardrobe (that's the fun of having a girl, right?). We finally made the big purchase while vacationing in California and she got to try it out for the first time:

She wasn't quite sure that to think of the giant swimming pool. However, a little help from her daddy and some silly antics from her Grami soon made her very comfortable and hesitant to leave.

Having thoroughly enjoyed her time in the big pool, Harriet thought she needed a little pool at home to make these miserably hot summer days more bearable. (And, if truth be told, her mommy thought it was necessary so that the pink swimsuit could be worn on a regular basis and so that said mommy could stick her own toes into the pool.)

Now she spends a good part of her afternoons sitting in her own little swimming pool. Sometimes her small aunts join her. Sometimes Stupid Hank joins her. And she generally uses up a good hour or two getting in and out and in and out...over and over and over.

(Don't let the cheesy smile fool you [although isn't it precious?] because it is rather traumatic when the pool has to be Put Away.)

But life is consistently improved by a ride in the toy car and eating a pint of so of blueberries.

Happy Summer!

The Game of Parenting

2011-07-13T17:15:00.000-05:00

I don't know how it is for you, but the internet and the connection it provides between individuals can be both a blessing and a negative distraction for me. Since having Harriet, I tend to gravitate toward blogs, Facebook statuses, and websites that talk about parenting: attachment parenting methods, healthy nutrition for babies and families, cloth diapering, organic living, classic imagination-friendly toys, you name it. It's fun and an encouragement to follow other mothers in their quest to raise their children. But sometimes it can be a distraction. Sometimes I feel a tremendous pressure to never ever let sugar touch Harriet's lips. Or I think that her imagination will be instantly stunted if she watches a DVD. Or she will be emotionally distanced from her parents if we adopt a modified spanking style of discipline or make her sleep in her own bed. And I freak out at the thought of the little monster that I'm accidentally creating.

(A rational evaluation reveals that while Harriet does eat sugary foods at times, she still adores spinach, strawberries, salmon, oatmeal, cucumbers, eggs, avocados, beans, rice, chicken, pork, beef, carrots, cauliflower, the list goes on and on. While she watches Baby Einstein on some mornings, she also loves to read books, and play creatively with her baby doll, crayons, or new Fisher Price farm set. :-))

But here is an interesting little analogy that I thought about today. Recently, Steve and I have discovered a liking for board games - you know, the snotty European board games that you can only order from places like BoardGameGeek.com and cost around five million dollars. Steve takes them rather seriously, and I play along, trying to beat him but knowing that I won't. (BUT, there was the glorious event on Monday morning when I beat him soundly by twenty points...while holding down morning sickness nausea! I win!) In any case, we have become rather adept at playing a two-person variation of Puerto Rico. One thing we have discovered over the past twenty-something times we have played is that in the two-person variation there isn't much room for strategical moves, while there is a heavy emphasis on tactical moves. You basically just have to keep the overall goal in mind (winning victory point chips) and just react to the other player's moves as they happen. (An example: I might have the initial strategy of settling lots of plantations on my little island, getting lots of products, shipping lots off to Spain, and getting my victory points that way. But then Steve decides that he wants to do a mixture of settling and building, so I have to react accordingly and build more than I would have otherwise in order to keep abreast in victory points. In short, there isn't just one particular strategy that is a sure-fire win each time.)

So anyway, while I was folding laundry this afternoon, I started thinking about how the example of a game of Puerto Rico is a neat picture of parenting. You see, as far as I can tell, there isn't just one perfect strategy for parenting. There isn't the Never Feed Sugar or Watch TV Method that always works every time. Neither is there the Plastic Diaper Baby Food From a Jar Method that works across the board. Each and every parent has to react to the different children (or even just one child) that God has given them. Things switch up and methods have to be changed, but parents have to keep the over-arching, long-term goal in mind. The victory points!

As a believer in Jesus Christ, my over-arching, long-term desire and goal for Harriet Alice (and for her future siblings) is that she knows Christ and follows him and loves him. Decisions that we make in the practical areas of life like eating and recreation can affect this to a certain degree (I do believe in irresistible grace, but that isn't a topic for discussion right now). If Harriet eats junk food all of the time and is sick as a result, she can't spend time truly enjoying God and His Word. If Harriet watches trash on television, she can be tempted to sin and be distracted from leading a holy life. But I desperately want our practical decisions about her upbringing to be intimately connected to a long-term goal...and not just exist because I feel a need to compete with other parents.

The bottom line is that each and every parent needs to make decisions that are right and best for his or her children. It's their role and responsibility. But this can be a hard thing to keep in mind. I'm reminded of the passage in John 21 when Peter wonders about John's future ministry and asks Jesus, "Lord, what about this man?" Jesus replies, "If I want him to remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me." Those words "you, follow me" are what I definitely need to bring to the forefront of my mind when the temptation to compare and contrast distracts me from my parenting task at hand.

I know I have a long way to go in this parenting game that I'm playing (my whole life long, I hope!), and I know there is a lot left to learn. But these are some thoughts that have been impressed on me lately and I hope they can be helpful.

Now my child is whining. I'd better tend to her....

Amelia is Rabbit? Who is that? (And a little HarriEd update)

2011-06-24T09:48:00.000-05:00

Hi. I haven't been writing on my blog because a) life is busy, and b) the internet/computer at my parents' house is slower than a three-toed sloth. And when life is busy and I have to poke around on the computer for twenty minute before I can get Blogger to load...well, I guess I just get too paranoid about wasting time.

(Charlotte-who-is-looking-over-my-shoulder just told me that she can read everything I'm typing. She has grown up! Pretty soon that will be Harriet-reading-over-my-shoulder! Ah!)

So what has made life so busy? We moved back to Nebraska a little over a month ago. We're living with my folks until we can get back into our house (which involves some shifting about of the relations who are renting). After a whirlwind trip to California to visit Steve's family and go to an Acts 29 Boot Camp, we drove with Steve's parents for four days through the Southwest and Midwest in order to make it back to Kansas City for Steve to be in a wedding. If you want a boost in your sanctification, just drive for 1300+ miles with an almost-one-year-old. Eesh. It was worth it, however. The wedding was crazy fun because it was Christ-centered, involved lots of people whom I love, and also had a dance after the ceremony. You can't beat that combination. Steve started work the following Monday and I tackled the laundry before it tackled me.

Since then, I've babysat Heathen, returned to Jazzercise, was "hired" to do contract work as an alterationist for a local clothing store, launched my cupcakes at the bakery, had dreams of starting a family-integrated Acts 29 church, helped my mom declutter the craft and laundry rooms, and schemed about painting the walls in my house.

HarriEd is growing up...fast. She will be one in a few weeks and that completely blows my mind. Totally and utterly and completely. Her favorite foods are beans and rice, cauliflower, green beans, oatmeal and applesauce, graham crackers (honey-free!), and...ice cream. Actually, she is a fantastic sport about trying new things and will eat almost anything. But when she sees ice cream it's like her life has reached its climax of delight.

Her favorite pastime is taking things out of boxes and then climbing into the box. She is beginning to really play with her toys: hugging her stuffed dog and dragging it around, stacking the rings back onto her stacker toy, and reading interactive books (Where's Spot? is the hit of the moment). HarriEd is also learning new words. Right now she can say Thank you, Hi, Bye, Mom, Dad, Done, Dog, Moo, Out, Noodle-Noodle (which is actually her word for nursing), and Look. And she loves to sing Old MacDonald Had a Farm.

What can I say? Having a toddler is nothing but awesome.

(Now Charlotte wants to do a craft project. Bye!)

Packing again, the trip to Nebraska

2011-05-10T13:06:00.000-05:00

Last night was ROUGH with the ol' HarriEd. Maybe it was the whacked out schedules of the weekend, or maybe it was the chocolate chips in her ten month birthday cookie that she ate, but she woke up TEN times last night. The goofy part was that she would whine and whine and then nurse and then roll over a few moments later and put herself to sleep. Even though she wasn't nursing back to sleep, she still woke up and woke up her parents, too. Thankfully, when Harriet popped awake this morning, her dear daddy was equally eager to get her out of bed so I could sleep (or at least lie there for a few moments without her wearing my skin clean off).

I know I may live to recant this, but with our next kid we are not co-sleeping the way we have co-slept with Harriet. End of story. Do you realize that I have been talking about Harriet's sleeping issues since she was eight weeks old? Eeps! These have been eight long months of sleepless nights. But I should quit talking about it and move on to something else.

Like moving! I have been packing most of the morning. We are moving on Friday, which seems like it is coming up rather quickly, but the reality is that Steve's last day of work is today and we don't have that much stuff to move. We were debating whether or not my parents should bring their SUV down to pull the trailer, but we realized the other night that our car is capable of towing such a small trailer. We are scheduled to get a hitch tomorrow and the trailer on Thursday, so hopefully we can get everything in boxes by then. We are trying to keep Uhaul in business, it seems.

The trip to Nebraska last weekend was quick, but I was so so so glad to be there to meet sweet baby Jemima! She arrived on May 7th (Jacob's birthday), weighed 7 lbs, 7.5 oz, and has the loveliest crop of dark hair you ever did see. She is just precious and I'm crazy-excited to be an aunt. If you haven't already seen the loads of pictures on Facebook, here is a link to her album of birth pictures: Jemima

Being in the delivery room after Jemima's birth brought back a flood of memories about Harriet's delivery. Kylie was taking pictures and when I walked in she said, "Doesn't it make you want to have another one?" I responded, "YES!" So yes, baby fever is rather catching and it's taking over a lot of my thoughts. Of course I treasure these more grown-up-Harriet moments (i.e. I'm not engorged right now), but having another baby would be so wonderful. Oh well, we'll wait and see. In the meantime, H and I will spend many an hour over at the Clevi abode, snuggling that sweet baby up.

Harriet is napping right now, which means that I should try to get some more stuff in boxes. Whee.

The move, the Harriet, and dark chocolate

2011-05-03T10:10:00.000-05:00

We had some really exciting news yesterday regarding our move to Nebraska: Steve was offered a job back at BD, five days a week, 3-11pm. And our benefits package (which was excellent, by the way) would begin immediately. This is such a blessing for the obvious reason of not having to find a job upon landing in Nebraska, but also because this is a half-way decent shift. He'll be able to be at church consistently, and I won't have to be home alone at night. Eeee! Of course, there are lots of details to be worked out (he has to be all official and re-apply, do a background check, and finalize a start date) and we're praying that those details will work themselves out smoothly. Sometimes it's hard for me to get excited about circumstances because I worry that those circumstances will be short-lived. I don't want to be disappointed again. But why not be happy instead of stressed? It's a lot easier and doesn't waste so much energy.

We don't have a moving date set in stone yet. We thought we were going to Atlanta next weekend, but now that is off, so we may be able to move sooner. My mom is considering driving the fambly's Suburban out here so that we can tow a small Uhaul trailer. It seems stupid to rent an entire truck ($$$) when the only large piece of furniture is our bed. I need to start a moving list and getting things into boxes. Didn't I just do this?

And then we come to Harriet. I think her new teeth must be bothering her still because she has been cranky. Because she hasn't been eating as much solid food as usual, she has been nursing more. That's all fine and dandy (I mean, I want her to keep nursing for as long as she needs to and she needs to keep getting sufficient sustenance with the drop off of solid foods), but she gets so frustrated with who-knows-what that she has been biting so crazy hard. My initial reaction is to yank her off and say NO in my firmest Mommy voice. But then she gets a sneaky grin on her face and does it all again. Grrr. And OUCH. My dearly beloveded mother who has breastfed five babies with a variety of temperaments and in an abundance of situations told me to pop Harriet off immediately, sit her down on the floor, and walk away. Without saying a word. That is hard for me, since I want to explain away the situation, but it seems to be working. She wails for a while because her ego has been deflated, but then we reconcile and nursing is better.

Sometimes I worry that we are not eating healthily enough. I mean, I can't afford organic food, and we don't use coconut oil, and sometimes we eat ice cream or syrup or pizza from Pizza Hut. But I went grocery shopping yesterday and when I was standing in line I compared the items in my cart to the ones in the cart of the woman behind me. The thing that struck me was that every single thing in her cart was white: ice cream, white bread, ramen noodles, donuts, chips, frosted flakes etc. No vegetables or fruit or anything that wasn't processed. No wonder people have a hard time weaning themselves from processed food to healthier choices! Even though my food wasn't entirely organic, at least I had a cart full of vegetables and whole grains. I want to be constantly improving in our food choices, but I guess we are still doing a pretty good job of putting healthy things into our bodies.

And in light of that discussion, I will now talk about chocolate. Ha. But really, Clara shared this idea with me and it actually is good for you. Just melt dark chocolate chips and add whole almonds (or whatever kind of nut you like) plus a bit of crushed toffee (okay, this part isn't good for you - it's just good). Spread it out on waxed paper and sprinkle with coarse sea salt. Let it set and voila! The Most Delicious Thing on the Planet. And as long as you don't gorge yourself on mounds of the stuff, you can feel pretty good about eating it.

Steve is off fixing a roof for an older couple from work and I'm off to St. Louis for a grand day out with Jenna. We're going to check out some of the free stuff, drive through Forest Park, eat at Whole Foods, and just have a good time. Yay!

Harriet, decisions, changing mindsets

2011-04-27T09:53:00.000-05:00

You know how hard it is to get back in the habit of something once you have stopped doing it? Like remembering to make the bed, or to clean up the kitchen every night, or to write on a blog. Sometimes it feels like I'm so behind that it's not worth catching up. But here I am, nevertheless. I'm not going to apologize too much...just press on ahead to bigger and better (or at least more consistent) things! (There's something in the Bible about that, methinks.)

Harriet needs to receive some credit for my blogging absence. The little miss Inexhaustible has been making valiant attempts to ditch the morning nap (AHH!) thus denying me the hour or so of uninterrupted typing time. I'm not really sure what to do about the morning nap ditch. On some days it's easy to go with the flow: she gets up later (8:30am), messes around all morning, and takes an early afternoon nap. But on other days the lack of nappage is like scraping my fingernails over a chalkboard. Harriet whines if she doesn't sleep and whines if I try to get her to go to sleep. And I sit on the bed staring at her theatrics and praying for patience.

In other HarriEd news, she now has four teeth. Yes indeedy, after a hectic Saturday night and a cranky Easter morning, two more pearly whites emerged on her top gum. So cute! And such a relief. I think I'd rather deal with two teeth at once than the pain and agony happening for one tooth at a time. She also likes to plan to have her teeth arrive on holidays, which is rather festive and makes it easier for me to remember (since I am an absolute FAIL when it comes to writing things down in a baby book). With the arrival of the new teeth, HarriEd's appreciation for mushed up food has waned significantly. It's a bit discouraging to have so many former favourites be denied with such vehemence. Her poor mommy is left wondering what in the world to do! Thankfully, Harriet has become a great fan of cheesy Mexican rice casserole and zucchini pizza casserole. Go figure.

With all of her drama, we love her still!

After a lot of discussion, prayer, more discussion, tears, and more discussion, we have made the decision to move back to Nebraska. We were waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike and God's booming voice to tell us if we should stay or if we should go, but since that didn't happen we had to weigh our options and just choose. (Well, there has been a lot of lightning around here recently, but no booming voice. Just scary tornadoes.) The reasons for moving are as follows:

The lack of money. God has provided for all of our needs through various and sundry means, I must say. But (I don't want to say "but," but I don't know what other word to use at this point) the lack of steady stable income has been most stressful for us and we haven't been able to save up any money for next year's classes at Covenant. If we were to continue with school we would have to get a significant student loan which is what we want to avoid.
The lack of purpose. Over the past few months of talking and having experiences and other things, Steve has come to grips with the fact that being in vocational ministry just isn't for us right now. Maybe later on down the road of life God will lead us back into it. But right now that doesn't seem to be the case. It's really, really hard to have to switch gears like this...for both of us, but especially for Steve. He knows that it would be foolish to spend time and money on a degree that lands him a job that doesn't meet our family's disposition. We want to keep working in a church, but not vocationally - at least for right now.
The lack of family. Being away from family has been much harder on me than I anticipated. Granted, we have received a tremendous outpouring of support and care from the Gs and I'm crazy-grateful for that. At the same time, it's really lonely to be in a new place with a little baby. I can't get out and meet people. We don't have the support of family when things are going rotten with H. And the bottom line is that we believe that it is very important for Harriet to be around family while she is so little. There's a reason why God designed the family, and when you don't have a dysfunctional one why not take advantage of the perks?

So we're tentatively planning on making the move back to our old house in the middle of May. We hate to disappoint people or let people down, but we really have had to make a choice that we feel is best for our family. And there you have it.

It's challenging to switch gears. I mean, one of the whole reasons why I wanted to get married to Steve was because we had similar goals to be in ministry. It was like, Hooray! Now we can be in ministry together! He can work on sermons all day in his office, eat lunch with me, be off in the evenings, [enter other visions of happy married life], etc. Now we are understanding that this isn't working out for us right now. The whole Follow Your Dreams at Whatever Cost may work for Disney movies, but that sure isn't the reality of having to pay bills and keep yourself sane. We feel confused and disappointed. What next? I think the goal for the next little bit will be to move forward with life, seeking God's direction, enjoying being a family and just being content to LIVE for a while. We both struggle with living each day and not coveting some other greener grass. Maybe that's the purpose for living a less adventurous lifestyle for a little while.

Sigh.

Harriet is actually asleep right now. Glory be! I need to fold and put away the Alpine range of laundry that we washed yesterday, type up a moving list, and clean up the kitchen. Maybe this evening I'll get to work on my quilt. That will be fun.

Have a good day, everybody!

This Tuesday Morning

2011-04-05T11:23:00.000-05:00

I realized the other day that I haven't written a one-topic post in a while, unless you count the HarriEd updates which frequent this bloggie. Those are definitely one topic as H would not allow herself to compete with anyone or anything else. She must be the Only One. Perhaps this lack of blogging focus is because my own brain feels exceptionally scattered these days. The dear little child has the attention span of a gnat, and in order to keep up with her, my attention span is curtailed by force. Thus when I try to focus on one thing for more than a minute, the gray matter starts bugging out.

In any case, HarriEd blows me away with her sweetness on a daily basis. She is so stinkin' busy: every waking moment (of which there are many) is consumed with scooting around the floor, picking things up, and inserting them into her mouth. I have to say, though, that she seems to be less prone to immediately sticking things in her mouth before giving them a good look over. It's almost as if she is allowing herself to play with the item first. Or at least give me time to discern if it is suitable for consumption. Lately she has begun to eat chunks of food that I place on her highchair tray.

Aside from learning to clap, H has been pointing to facial features on my face and then pointing to the same facial features on herself. I'll say "nose" or "mouth" or "eyes (ouch)" as appropriate and she gets this silly little grin on her face. The other day she lifted up my shirt, pointed to my stomach and laughed. I didn't really know what was so funny about my stomach (unless you are laughing at its flubbiness) until she put her mouth on it and performed a full-blown raspberry. Apparently this was a game she had developed with her father.

HarriEd is also infatuated with herself. She really needs a sibling because if this keeps up she will be the most vain child on earth (how can she help it when she has scores of friends and relations telling her how fantastic she is on a daily, if not moment by moment, basis?) We have a picture of her hanging on the wall and every morning when she wakes up, she smiles at it and waves. She also loves to watch movies of herself. Sometimes when I'm making her lunch and she is whining in the highchair I'll put a short clip from the Flip on the computer. She then settles down as she becomes overwhelmed with her own amazing-ness.

Okay, moving on from Harriet.

Steve has been working two jobs for the past week or so. Cabinet Solutions wants him to work whenever he isn't at Wal Mart which equals lots and lots of hours (and an increased checking account!) and no days off. We're hoping that he can switch to being full-time at CS because the pay is better, the hours are better, and he'll always have weekends off.

What have I been up to? Taking care of those two people. Cooking up new recipes from Food Matters. Sewing in my spare time. Attempting to make our house livable. (Ha.) Keeping in touch with friends and fambly.

I'd elaborate, but the muchkin woke up. See? I told you she was vain.

Daffodowndilly

2011-03-31T15:10:00.000-05:00

She wore her yellow sun bonnet,

She wore her greenest gown;

She turned to the south wind

And curtsied up and down.

She turned to the sunlight

And shook her yellow head,

And whispered to her neighbor:

"Winter is dead."

A.A. Milne

(Much thanks to Tessa for the beautiful flowers and the delightful company yesterday.]

The Tale of HarriEd

2011-03-28T06:00:00.002-05:00

There once was a girl whose name was HarriEd. She was a very busy little girl who liked to scoot around on the floor, pick things up, study them for a moment, and then stick them in her mouth. There were other times of the day when she liked to stick other things in her mouth that were actually appropriate for consumption.

Sometimes HarriEd went outside. This location afforded even more interesting sights, smells, and textures. Small sticks, grass, and dried leaves were assailed by her dexterous little fingers. Only a passing squirrel or robin could distract her from her task of evaluating and eating.

Then at other times, HarriEd's mommy let her play on the kitchen floor with such exciting things as plastic containers. These were fun to bang on the floor and unload from the cupboard, but they paled in comparison to teensy weensy sweet potato muffin crumbs that were hiding under her highchair. Her mommy came to remove such minute specimens, and HarriEd happily scooted away to find her next adventure.

When not eating, HarriEd liked to tell stories. She told stories about kitties, and babies, and daddies. She also read stories. She read Goodnight Moon and The Runaway Bunny and Barnyard Dance. She also read Cat the Cat and all of the other Little Golden books on the revolving rack at Borders.

HarriEd liked to go to church. At church she got to spend time with people besides her mommy and daddy, which usually resulted in lots of attention directed toward the cuteness of her person. This she enjoyed very much, along with singing loudly and pulling herself up on the pew to talk loudly to the person behind her during the sermon. All of this attention was almost as exciting as looking at pictures of herself on the computer - which became a nightly ritual.

And so HarriEd lived a happy life marred only by the occasional diaper rash, the infrequent absence of her mother and the inability to slobber on the xbox controller.

The End.

Random Friday Thoughts

2011-03-25T12:42:00.000-05:00

Harriet was sick this past week and that's something I want to avoid in the future. Even though I know that she is a child and will pick up all sorts of random germs, I still think that it will with worth the effort. I also feel as though I have been elevated to the next level of motherhood. Yeesh. A sick H = A cranky H = Nursing all day = Needing Mom all day. But I'm her mommy and that's what I'm for, right? Thankfully she is back to her spunky, smiley self.
This whole sickness fiasco (the after-hours clinic on Sunday, the allergic reaction to the medication on Tuesday, the tracking down a local doctor on Wednesday) makes me realize how difficult and tiring it is to be in a new place figuring out New Things. If you're not in the know, you just don't know. Could I have told you that there was a family practice clinic in town? Nope. And no website told me that either. Thankfully I was able to get information from a couple at church about a good place to take H. I am grateful that the doctor was pleasant (despite the parenting lecture I received) and now we are "in" with somebody. Hopefully this will make the next illness less of an issue. (Wait. I'm avoiding illness.)
I went clothes shopping yesterday. We desperately need to spruce up our wardrobe since most of our clothes have been worn for 5+ years and are showing signs of extreme wear and tear. They also make us look like we are in junior high (graphic tees and holey jeans, anyone?). I went to Kohl's and bought lots of jeans for Steve, some basic shirts for me, and several outfits for the HarriEd. I realized that I had never been shopping for her. She has a lot of clothes from friends and relations, but I had never picked any of them out. Our shopping venture yesterday opened another door in my love of dressing a little girl. So, so, so fun! The best outfit? A onesie with a girl-y daschund on it and a ruffly pink mini skirt. It kills me!
I've been really, really, REALLY struggling with contentment here. And fighting off depression. Most days I feel like I'm swimming in a molasses swamp in every area of my life: house cleaning, life purpose, healthy eating, spiritual walk, marriage relationship, blah, blah, blah. It's hard to get up in the morning knowing that I'm facing another day of feeling hateful, then guilty, then depressed. To be quite honest, things aren't as peachy keen here as I imagined they would be. We don't really know what we're doing...and now it seems like we're being steered down another path and in a different direction. I don't know what it means and I can't make sense of it. Urgle. I feel horribly isolated and out of touch with the kind of life I want to live. So we continue to pray for clarity and patience and contentment. (And sometimes that gets old, too.)
After that gut spill, I would also like to say that I am grateful for the Gs and that they are so generous with their time, washing machine, vehicles, listening ears, and support for us. I'm also grateful for friends and family (mostly the latter) who listen to my rants via telephone and continue to work through stuff with us.
Steve is starting a temp job at a cabinet factory in addition to his Wally World job. This will give him consistent hours (!!) and better pay, and maybe maybe maybe he will be able to slip out of the Wal-Mart position. Or just work 12-16 hour days.
I went to Zumba this morning (a regular class, not Zumba toning which I attend sometimes on Wednesday evening) and (shock!) had a good time. Not only did I feel welcomed, but I enjoyed the dynamics of the class. There were about 12 other ladies in the class and everyone was cheerful and enthusiastic. The class is taught by a husband/wife team which was really cool because she demonstrated the more dance-y moves while he did a more athletic technique. If I couldn't follow all of the elaborate hand motions, I just watched him. They were both really solid teachers and knew their material well, so I felt confident about following their lead. And it was real dancing - much closer to Jazzercise than some other classes I've attended.
We were going to do something fun and refreshing out and about as a couple today since Steve works for the next 7 days in a row, but the weather is goopy. I guess that means we'll do something inside!

Behind a frowning providence

2011-03-21T06:00:00.001-05:00

It's been almost two weeks since I last wrote a post and a lot has happened. I've debated whether or not to blog about it because I don't want to be all sob-story. But it's an important life event that needs to be shared.

On February 17, we found out that we were pregnant with Rodgers baby #2. After the initial mental adjustment of Now I Have to Be Pregnant in a New Place, the rush of excited feelings descended. Harriet would have a sibling close to her age - hooray! But not too close - hooray again! As I braced myself for the morning sickness fiasco, I looked forward to the fun of making maternity clothes, signing up for week-by-week emails, choosing a name, and most importantly, having a new little person to adore.

The morning sickness never came. Aside from an overly sensitive nose and extreme exhaustion, I didn't feel badly at all. This is great, I thought. Maybe this baby will be a chill little creature and balance the dear HarriEd out a bit. After several weeks of trying to schedule an appointment with a midwife here in IL (to no avail, I might add), I decided to make an appointment with my doctor back in Nebraska during the week that I would be home. After everything checked out at that visit, I would announce our happy news to the world.

But sadly, that wasn't to be. The day after my arrival in Nebraska, I started spotting. This was the dreaded nightmare of my pregnancy with H, and now it was actually happening. Trying not to panic, I made an appointment for the next morning and then tried to reassure myself that some pregnancies with early bleeding turn out perfectly fine. I stayed up practically all night praying that this would be the case for our baby, but deep down I knew that it wasn't so. (In a way I felt as though I were ten-year-old-chubby-Amelia again praying for her kitten to be found...and knowing all the while that he was probably frozen out in the December snow.)

The ultrasound and my physical condition the next day revealed that a miscarriage had occurred. At first I felt very sad and disappointed. The baby had died. All of the hopes and plans were being destroyed. To make matters worse, Steve was still in Illinois and wouldn't be able to come for another week. While I was very glad to have the support of my family (and the help with Harriet) it was depressing to be going through a rather traumatic life experience without my husband.

Like I said earlier, I have argued with myself whether or not to share this rather personal experience. It feels weird to type it up like it's just some normal day in the life of Amelia, instead of the weird, surreal and saddening experience that it really was and continues to be. But there are some reasons for sharing that outweigh the weirdness:

The miscarriage exemplifies God's provision and loving kindness. It happened in Nebraska where I had access to my doctor who know my medical history. It reduced the stress by a million percent to not have to figure out where to go or what to do back in IL. I had the tremendous support and comfort of not only my immediate family but my extended family as well. I had siblings and parents who were willing and eager to help with Harriet on the yuckier days. Those same siblings and parents provided a healthy distraction and external focus so that the clouds of depression didn't stay for long. Our substantial tax return came several weeks early so Steve was able to come to Nebraska just a day after the miscarriage. And I didn't have any prolonged physical difficulties. So in the midst of it all God is very good.
I want to be real to the people around me - and that includes the relationships that this blog supplies. Being real means sharing the hard stuff as well as the jolly stuff. It's a stripping away of all of the Fake Amelia which so often dominates my relating to others. And honestly, I don't think I could be all hunky-dory on here without mentioning the miscarriage...because it effects how I feel and how I experience life.
Our society deals with loss through miscarriage so poorly. I wanted to share because I believe that no matter how many weeks a baby lives, it is still a person with a soul who was once alive. Because of our culture's view of the sanctity of life, pregnancy (and miscarriage) becomes such a sterile and purely physical event. Our baby wasn't just a blighted ovum that failed to bury into the uterine wall. It was a baby...a person. Even though we never knew that baby in a real sense, we can still experience the loss of a life that was close to us. And while the grieving process may be different, it can still exist.
I want to help others. Even though I hope that none of you will ever experience a miscarriage, I want you to know that if you do, I'm available. If you don't know what I've experienced, then you'll never know that I can be a listening and (hopefully) understanding ear.

I still do feel sad and disappointed at times, but we're really doing okay. Having the drama of a sick Harriet helps with that. :-) All of this has led me to really think about what it means to let God control your family size. He really does give children and take away children. Just because a couple chooses not to prevent pregnancy through birth control or NFP doesn't mean that they will have a baby every year. Some couples are blessed with many children close in age. Others struggle to conceive or deal with miscarriages or just with long spaces between each munchkin. God is truly the one in control.

I find it ironic that our miscarriage happened on the day of the earthquake in Japan. It was hard to think about an entire country getting crushed when my small little world was being shaken up. But a post from the Desiring God blog in response to the earthquake and tsunami also served as a personal encouragement to me. At the end of Piper's prayer was this statement:

O let them not judge you with feeble sense, but trust you for your grace. And so behind this providence, soon find a smiling face.

Harriet at Eight Months (Media Intensive)

2011-03-07T07:00:00.005-06:00

(Wow, I've written 150 posts on this bloggie bloggie in its year-plus duration. Not too shabby!)

HarriEd will be eight months old on Wednesday. That, my friends, is old.

New Trick:
HarriEd figure out how to crawl in a most efficient way: she sits on one hip, sticks the other leg out to one side and then propels herself around the room. This half-crab-walk is quite ingenious because never has to get out of a sitting position. Once she arrives at the desired Small Choking Hazard she is already sitting up and ready to consume.

New Foods:
H has been trying lots of new foods lately including yogurt, carrots, apple-cranberry-turkey dinner, and sweet potato muffins. I have been attempting to sneak protein into her diet because her love of pears and oatmeal doesn't get her very far into the day before the sugar crash hits. (Thus the apple-cranberry-turkey dinner - which, quite frankly, grosses me out.) Thanks a very detailed book on making healthy baby food, I learned that it is now quite safe to include a mashed up egg yolk in H's meals. Brilliant! Or so I thought. Maybe it was the crankiness of the morning, or maybe she really doesn't like egg no matter how it is disguised behind sweet potatoes and oatmeal. But in any case, H stuck out her tongue and said, "Bleh."

New Toy:
The most brilliant discovery of the month occurred at the St. Louis Art Museum's gift shop when we happened upon Indestructibles. If you know HarriEd then you also know that she loves loves loves paper and she hates it when paper is removed from her clutches. Board books hold no charm when she can get her hands on a Real Book. (This is why I had some explaining to do when returning Redeeming Love to the library last week.) So we found Indestructibles, a brand of books created from some miracle fiber that feels like paper and tastes like paper and crinkles like paper BUT it doesn't rip, tear, or otherwise combust. The books are non-toxic and completely washable. And the simple colorful pictures of happy little farm animals are an added bonus.

New Word:
True to form, H's favorite word is Da-Da. Da-Da this, Da-Da that, Da-Da everything. When we are singing or talking or watching a movie, her goal seems to be to say Da-Da as loud as she possibly can and thus receive the desired attention from everyone around her. Her other word of choice is the word Hey, which either refers to herself or as a salutation.

New Person:
HarriEd was very glad to receive her aunt Eleanor as a visitor this week. (And I was very glad to receive sister Eleanor and her helpful spirit as well). They get along splendidly and spend many hours unloading the toy box. Eleanor possesses a knack for baby-watching and has no qualms about taking the screaming child and entertaining her. This is sometimes an absolute God-send.

New Clothes:
Thanks to a free afternoon and an agreeable spirit, Harriet received a new spring jacket courtesy of my sewing machine. The bright colors are so cheerful during these dreary last days of winter and, I must admit, she looks a-dorable. This is why having a little girl is the best thing ever!

Yep, that's pretty much HarriEd in a nutshell: adorable, irresistible, easily angered, inventive, demanding, charming, creative, delightful.

Up Early

2011-03-03T08:02:00.000-06:00

I'm up before everybody else this morning. Steve has a late start at work, and Harriet seems content to snuggle up with him letting me sneak out of bed. I really really like sitting in the dark by myself. Sometimes I think about how many hours I spent alone, by choice. I would grab a book or my journal or my Bible and just go sit on my bed and get some serious space from the noisy chaos of life with the Heathens. It's a wondrous thing how God can slowly change me from needing that alone time to really being able to survive for a long while without it. It's a good thing, too, since HarriEd refuses to be left alone and neither does Steve, especially after a day at work.

Eleanor is here this week. Mom dropped her off in transit to Jacob's dog grooming competition in Atlanta. I truly believe that until women have children who are old enough to be a help and not a hindrance, a mother's helper is the way to go. Eleanor plays with H for hours (which is exactly what she wants), helps me with meals and cleaning up, and reminds me that there are other people in the world over the age of seven months. What will I do when she leaves? Go with her, of course! The plan is for me to hitch a ride back to Nebraska when the fambly drives back through here in a week. Then I'll be able to visit not only immediate family, but the extended family coming from Colorado and Texas. Hooray! Plus there's going to be Jazzercise again and Bunco and tea time with Kylie and just...people that I already know.

(But Steve will be all by his lonesome, which makes me feel sad. Ah, life.)

Be praying about Steve's work situation. He is only scheduled for 20 hours a week now, which at minimum wage (plus the 40-minute car drive each day) will most certainly not pay the bills. At all. It's frustrating because he is trying so hard to apply for all kinds of jobs, and absolutely no one is hiring him. Now he's filling out an application for a Christian school, and while that's the job he would love to have, it's hard to get our hopes up that they would hire a teacher who has minimal experience and, frankly, doesn't know anybody in the school district. Because apparently to get a decent job you have to a) have a degree that means something besides the ability to preach the Bible, and b) know somebody who can land you the desired job. Granted, the Wally World job is a job and it's giving us a slight boost in the financial department. Something else just needs to turn up, and rather quickly.

I'm absolutely loving my kitchen experiments with the Food Matters Cookbook. Love, love, love that cookbook. I've made three dishes from it so far and they have all been inexpensive, healthy, simple to prepare, and beyond delicious. The emphasis on fresh vegetables giving the meals bulk is brilliant because we can have something fun and filling without going broke. And the combination of flavors is incredible. So far I've only made skillet dishes and a soup, but I want to try some of his bread and muffin recipes today. Eee! I simply must buy this cookbook, especially since I now have access to an Aldi (!!!) which seems to keep fresh veggies and fruits in stock at ri-doink-ulously low prices. I seriously get all giddy in that store. It's so exciting to get everything I need to make healthy and tasty food for $25 UNDER my grocery budget. It's the most cheerful thing.

Maybe I should eat before the masses arise. And read my Bible. Have a splendid day, everyone!

Books for February: When A Nation Forgets God and Redeeming Love

2011-02-28T09:23:00.001-06:00

One of my goals is to read at least one book each month. I overachieved this month and read two books, and here is what I think of them.

When A Nation Forgets God by Erwin Lutzer

This is a short but well-written book discussing the similarities between the political environment of Nazi Germany and the current political and social environment of the United States. In concise chapters, Lutzer discusses what happens when a nation silences the church, lets the economy rule, allows the media to control beliefs, and other issues that led to the demise of Germany and, apparently, are also present in our current society.

Thoughts:
This book was very manageable and readable (great for me who rarely has time to just sit down and read for hours on end) and yet it really got me thinking. Plus, I learned many things about Nazi Germany that hadn't "clicked" with me before. And, I also appreciated the matter-of-fact tone and avoidance of sensationalism or conspiracy theory. While Luzter is not afraid to discuss the similarities between Nazi Germany and the United States, he doesn't assume that the US is necessarily doomed to the same fate. The purpose is not to frighten people into fatalism but to inspire boldness and courage to stand for the truth of the gospel - while we still have the freedom to do so.

Recommended? Yes! In fact, I want to read his other book, Hitler's Cross, to continue to learn about the role of the church during this dark period of history.

Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers

In this re-telling of the biblical account of Hosea, the prostitute Angel finds unconditional love and, ultimately, faith in God, through the obedience of her faithful new husband Michael. Set in the somewhat-mythical "Old West" of Northern California, Rivers paints a vivid picture of God's redeeming love towards the lost.

Thoughts: Let me just say that I am not a fan of Christian fiction. But I started reading this book at the G's house and had a hard time putting it down. Could it be possible that Francine Rivers is actually, you know, a good Christian author? So I humbled myself and checked it out from the library and spent the next few weeks reading.

At first, Rivers takes the very difficult subject of prostitution and handles it quite tastefully. I was shocked that something of such "adult content" could actually be written about in a way that didn't make me stop reading. The book had interesting characters, the intentional parallels between the story and the book of Hosea were insightful, and the predominant "Old West" feel didn't seem to dictate too much of the story. At first. Then Rivers took it into her head to write about 200 pages too many and, in my opinion, the story flopped. The characters became boring, the scandalous scenes became more graphic and disturbing, and by the end I felt as though I had just finished watching some odd combination of Christy, Dr Quinn, and Little House on the Prairie...all with an R rating. I'm not sure how closely Rivers wanted to follow the story of Hosea, but I do think that there was a major discrepancy which needs to be noted: in the story, Angel is repeatedly touted as a victim of her past and the adults who destroyed her. In the Bible, God uses the prostitute in Hosea as a picture of Israel - who was so totally and definitely not a victim but played the harlot after other gods by her own choice.

Recommended? Probably not. The book has potential, but I don't think I could say, "You've got to read this."

Here comes March with more books in store. I already have a new cookbook waiting at the library. Does that count?

How We Got Engaged

2011-02-22T10:22:00.003-06:00

Note: This is very long. But just humor me, okay?

Two years ago today I was very, very tired because I had stayed up into the wee sma's getting engaged to Stephen P.

(Today I am very tired for a rather different reason, but suffice to say that it has something to do with the resident Inexhastible [she must have read OMF in the womb] and her assumption that she is exempt from sleeping for any length of time whatsoever.)

But anyways, two years ago (such a long time!) was the momentous day...er, night. The story, for those of you who haven't heard it, or who need a refresher, goes something like this:

I suppose I should start at the very beginning. Steve and I met at an alumni banquet at Cornerstone Bible Institute. He was part of the visiting alumni and I was running around as a student doing various things to help pull the banquet off. We chatted briefly and I, in a regular huff about Young Men in General, decided that I really didn't care two beans if this guy was talking to me. I was sick of trying to pretend to be somebody I wasn't, so I just laid out all of my interests/dreams/beliefs in a matter of about 10 minutes and thought, Well, buddy, take it or leave it.

He took it.

Steve went back to Modesto, CA, and I went back to Nebraska. We spent the summer sending epic-length Facebook messages, chatting until ungodly hours of the night, and generally getting more "in like." I went back to school in Hot Springs and Steve went to finish his bachelor's degree at Calvary Bible College in Kansas City. (Little did I know that part of the reason for choosing said college was because he would only be twelve hours away from me instead of twenty-four.) He came up to visit me at school in October and we proceeded to be horrifically awkward around each other and not talk for a few days. That was retarded and tear-inducing ("I knew he was a jerk!" I kept saying to myself.) But then we got over that stupidity and had a loverly 2+ hour talk about how we wanted to get to know each other better.

And we did.

We started talking on the phone and after each conversation was cut off at the blasted curfew of 10pm, I would lay in bed for hours freaking out about how much I loved him and how horrible it would be if he dumped me. He came to my house for Thanksgiving and survived my family. I banged my head on the bathroom wall every night after our discussions because I knew that I couldn't live without this guy. I went to California for New Years and survived his family. (And the beach. If I couldn't marry into property, at least I could marry for location, right?) We became "official" at Denny's at 3am while eating some horrendous potachos dish which I had to pay for with my last $8. We went back to his house mutually elated (whilst our stomachs waged war against the potachos).

We texted.

Yes, I started texting because of Steve. I became very adept at it in a very short amount of time. And we were always grammatically correct in our messages, which thrilled me to no end. We texted all day and all night and got very little sleep or homework done. In February, we texted about Steve making a quick trip up to my house for a long weekend. He was rehearsing for the role of Frank Butler in the college production of Annie Get Your Gun, but he could leave after rehearsals on Friday night and then we would have all of Saturday and most of Sunday together. Brilliant plan!

Then things got interesting.

On the long anticipated weekend of great joy, my dear mother had to have an unexpected minor surgery. Clara and I went home a day early to help out with the Heathen, and it was a good thing, too, since the minor surgery turned into a major issue which sent Mom to death's doorstep and back. So with Mom and Dad at the hospital dealing with that trauma and me holding down the homefront with the kids, here came Steve with his long-time buddy Justin to spend the weekend. And it was not the chillaxing time that we were anticipating.

On Saturday morning, Steve and I went to visit the parents at the hospital and go grocery shopping and escape the general chaos at home. (Side note: While I was driving along, Steve said, "Can you drive with just your left hand?" I said, "Well, of course I can!" And then he grabbed my right hand and held it for the first time and I almost rear-ended the car in front of us in my shock. The end.) While we were at the hospital (and unbeknownst to me), my dad cornered Steve in the hallway and told him that he and my mom totally trusted him and that he could do whatever with me. Meaning that he had permission to propose. Or something like that. We went back to my house, prepared a huge dinner for the fambly and friends who had been invited over, and kept small children from killing each other or Justin.

Was I stressed out? Absolutely. My mother had almost died. The heathen were out of control. And I was totally falling apart in front of the guy I wanted the most to impress. It was a horrible evening, during which I spent a quantity of time hiding in the bathroom crying. The heathen didn't go to bed until after 11pm and Justin was snoring in the recliner. Steve and I were sitting on the couch, staring at absolutely nothing after the insanity of the day. I felt exhausted and overwhelmed and like a complete failure of a girlfriend.

Then he said, "Let's go outside."

Now, folks, let me remind you that this was February 22. It was cold. There was frost on the front deck. But I said, "Sure," and quickly bundled up. We stood out on the deck, shivering and looking at the stars and talking for a while. And Steve said, "You know, I just think we should get married." And I said, "Okay."

Thus, we got engaged. That was it. We spent another good two hours outside in the blessed stillness of the early morning, snuggling up on the porch swing to keep each other warm and talking. It was splendid and I was too happy to really comprehend what was going on. I wanted to stay up all night and never stop being with each other. The next day (or rather, later that morning) was church, but we went to the hospital to talk to Mom and Dad while Clara, Justin, and the heathen did the spiritual thing. So with Mom looking rather green and hooked up to various and sundry wires, we made a list on the hospital white board of pros and cons of wedding dates. We decided we just couldn't wait a whole year and wanted to get married that coming July - on my parents' anniversary.

Steve said, "So, do you want a ring?" I always thought that gaudy engagement rings were not my type, plus Steve didn't have any money whatsoever (I had to buy our lunch again). But I did want something to show that I was engaged, so we went to Alco and bought one of those silly $10 fake diamond rings. It was pink and the fake metal turned my finger green. But I wore it very happily for the next five months.

There you have it - the extended tale of our engagement. It still makes me laugh and feel all giddy again to think about it. I knew that we were right for each other when we got engaged, but little did I know how perfect we are for each other. I can't imagine life without Steve and I'm so blessed to be his wife.

End sappiness.

About a HarriEd (with videos)

2011-02-21T07:27:00.000-06:00

Here is a post all about HarriEd. This is for the grandmothers, the aunts and uncles, the surrogate aunts and uncles, and any of H's other fans. It is also for my memory, which seems to be fading since I kept telling Harriet that I was making pears for her when it was very obviously a bunch of peaches that were simmering away in the Le Creuset saucepan. I'm pretty sure that she has nursed the brain cells right out of me...which makes her a smart little stinker, that's for sure.

What has HarriEd been up to lately? Our days generally go something like this.

Get up: H gets up around seven each morning and is unusually perky and smiling for about fifteen minutes. If her mommy and daddy prefer to not be perky and smiley and, instead, snuggle up with one another, this fifteen minutes is shortened significantly and H gets grouchy. She then gets changed and dressed and ready for the day. Harriet plays in her exersaucer while I make breakfast.

Eat breakfast: She has been eating. a. lot. of. food. I made some homemade baby oatmeal for her (super easy and cheap) and when it is cleverly disguised behind pears or peaches, she will eat it without a second thought. I always think, "Oh, I accidentally made too much," and almost without fail she proceeds to gobble up the entire bowl-full.

Play: It becomes obvious as to why H has to eat so much when she starts to get down and dirty with her toys. Harriet has a box of toys which are Safe for Infants and she usually spends a good chunk of her day sorting through them for little things that are Not Safe for Infants. Usually she will give up the search and content herself with trying to pull the tags off of stuffed animals. Yesterday we had a little game going in which she held up the plastic lid from the baby food container and I made her stuffed sheep toy butt into it. This was apparently the most hilarious thing that had ever happened. She also really likes to look at books and, even more so, chew on the pages.

Nap:  Harriet often takes her morning nap in the Sleepy Wrap because, frankly, I still have things to do and it's just easier to have her nap whilst I unload the dishwasher or fold clothes or do my Bible study, and so on. Her morning nap is still her longest and most consistent nap and usually lasts over an hour.

Eat lunch: After waking up and getting acclimated to the world again, H gives another solid go at an early lunch of sweet potatoes or more oatmeal and pears. Then she keeps herself occupied in the highchair while I eat my lunch.

Backpack time:  Sometimes Harriet likes to play after lunch, but often she ends up riding around in the backpack while I work on sewing projects. This is a Very Happy Time since she gets to be intimately involved with whatever mommy is doing, and she can pull mommy's hair and chew on her necklace, and she is riding around higher up than everybody else. Except for her daddy.

Nap: For the afternoon nap, H nurses to sleep on our bed, and then I either sneak away or lie next to her and read. Depending on how much sleep I got the previous night, I will sometimes sneak a little nap in, too. Harriet will sleep by herself in bed for 45 minutes exactly. Then she will wake up completely (none of that half-awake stuff for her) and have to be quickly made to go back to sleep. If I "catch" her before she is sitting up and ready to go, I can usually nurse her back to sleep for another half hour or so. It just depends.

Play/Backpack/Snack:  See above.

Play with Daddy:  By the end of the afternoon, Harriet is tired of playing and shows this by clinging desperately to her mommy and wanting to nurse continuously. This is when her mommy nurses her and then hands her off to her daddy. And Harriet doesn't see her mommy for about an hour (hooray for the wellness center!) and realizes that life is perfectly fine (even fun) with daddy.

Dinner/Bath/Bed:  Harriet usually hangs out with us while we eat dinner. Sometimes she takes a bath after we eat and on other days she just gets her pajamers on. Then she amuses herself with us for the remainder of the evening, usually telling us stories and making us laugh with her silly expressions. Since our floors are all hardwood, Harriet tends to slide around on them rather than scoot. She can go from being on her stomach to sitting up to being back on her stomach again with great dexterity and skill. Thus she manages to get where she wants to be. She still pulls herself up whenever the opportunity comes her way.

Then she goes to bed, all snuggled up with us, and I pray that she will sleep longer than an hour before waking up. That's one thing that we are going to start taking drastic measures about: Harriet does not need to nurse all night long. And her mommy has got to get some sleep. But that's another story for another day.

We love Harriet so much and can't imagine life without her. As she continues to grow and develop she gets to be more and more fun of a person to be around. She's a curious, delightful, sensitive, darling little person who is growing up awfully fast.

Online again, working out and eating healthily, a small rant, sappy movies

2011-02-17T10:47:00.000-06:00

We have the internets again! I think that it will be a Very Good Thing since Steve starts work tomorrow at Wal-Mart and I don't want to be lonely. Plus there's a lot to do with the Etsy store these days. There's nothing like a bright and sunny craft room to make the inspiration flow quite fast and furiously. It's probably a good thing that HarriEd clamors for attention so loudly or else I would lose all track of time and never come back from the sewing machine.

H likes to chase the toys around the tub.

So, yes, I am back online. I must admit that I was unprepared for the rush of PMS-induced emotions when I got back onto the social network scene yesterday and suddenly felt guilty for not getting my kid to sleep through the night, or for feeding her baby food from a jar, or for failing in posting pictures of her regularly, and just the general busyness that being involved in a hundred other lives via LiveJournal and Facebook tends to create. Normally it's a good thing that I'm grateful for, but I guess I kind of got used to being Just Us at home without the perceived input of others and the pressure to be involved. It reminded me of two things. First of all, input from others is valuable and I need to be involved with other people. Without it I become increasingly introverted and selfish and less likely to ever want to talk to anybody but Steve. Second, I have to stick to what I believe is best for my family and my baby and our particular situation. Comparing parenting skills with others and feeling like a failure isn't useful when I'm really NOT a failure. And I need to remember that I will think irrationally and hate the whole world when the hormones are wonky. That's just a fact.

The queen upon her throne in which she is toted about for significant parts of the day.

This week has been a renewal of my commitment to good eating habits (one carb-ish meal a day and the rest consisting of protein and vegetables) and to exercising at least a half an hour a day. I am very grateful for the discovery of another free week to the wellness center coupon and so I have been spending time down there each evening. I went to 3-2-1 class totally cold turkey, having no idea what a 3-2-1 was, and learned that it was interval training set to music. And that my jump roping skills seem to have vanished. Last night was another round of Zumba toning, and once again, I cannot move this morning without some exclamation of "Ouch!" or "Ahhh!" But it's good, right? I think so.

One thing that I've noticed lately is the preponderance of folks who "hon" Steve and me. It's not just the 50-year-old ladies at Panera, either. It's the high schoolers checking me into the wellness center. I mean, okay, I know that I look like I'm an insecure 14-year-old (although I daresay that a haircut would help that problem a lot), but I successfully birthed a child for Pete's sake! I am not your hon, hon. Between the endearing remarks of the general public and the vast quantities of Chick-fil-as, I think we've moved too far south.

(But it could be worse. Yesterday Steve and I did a short worship service a the nursing home, and one little lady asked Steve if I were his mother.)

Ahem. Steve got me Roman Holiday for Valentine's Day. That is my favoritest Valentine's Day movie - ever since Amy and I found it on sale for $2 at Wally World during CMI...so many moons ago. Steve and I watched half of it on Valentine's Day and finished the rest off last night while HarriEd slid around the living room floor on her bottom. That movie never fails to completely sap me out.

I think I want to be Audrey Hepburn.

So back to the gym I go....

Just kidding. :-)

The Scatteredness of Me

2011-02-12T12:48:00.000-06:00

So this will be a quick, bulleted, disjointed kind of post. I'm at the library and Steve is doing laps with HarriEd around the science fiction section - and I don't know how long she'll last. I'll give a snippy-snappy little update on things:

We currently have a car! To make a long story short, we found out about a Toyota Avalon in super-good shape with low mileage (for its age) that was owned by a couple who go to Levi's old church in Springfield. (There are lots of other small world connections, but I won't dive into that right now.) The car is really great for our needs right now and the owners said that we could use it until they get back from their trip and we figure out our money situation. Praise the Lord! Having a vehicle makes such a difference.
Steve had a job interview on Friday that went really well. It was at a refrigeration manufacturer about an hour away, and even though the distance is a bit of a bummer, he has the chance to get some really good hours, benefits, AND if/when we decide to take more classes at Covenant, the job will only be about 20 minutes away from the school. So that will be handy. Now we're waiting to hear back in the next week or so. I'm praying that he gets a day shift instead of swings. :-)
I was so grateful was Tessa was able to drive up from St. Louis yesterday to spend an afternoon baking cookies and making Valentine's Day crafts. How fun to have a kindred spirit to talk with! The cookies were a disaster (a tasty disaster, no less) and the crafts didn't get done...but we were talking and that was splendid.
I was able to set up my sewing machine this week and after a trip to ~~that blessed place~~ Hobby Lobby, I have been having so much fun. Between sewing, pink nail polish, and two girly movies from Steve, I'm beginning to feel my feminine side revive.
HarriEd is a character. She continues to devour pears and spit out bananas and demand to be the center of attention at all times. Or else. She is very close to crawling, which both amazes and terrifies me.
We need to get internet soon. Or I need to get organdized about writing posts and saving them.
The End.
OH! The husband is writing on his blog again. (And I help because I'm the midnight brainstormer.) Check it out here: Coffee Steve

Pictures of the House

2011-02-03T15:17:00.000-06:00

Here I am having survived the stupid snow storm which prevented me from getting online and uploading pictures, but allowed me to have lots of time to organize the new place. That's why you are seeing these pictures of a moderately tidy home instead of a sty.

Here is an album/slideshow of the house. I don't have any pictures of the living room or the bathroom yet, but I'll update this album when I do. You can click on the slideshow to go to the online album if you'd like.

We're still waiting on a job and a car. Snow slows things down considerably we are realizing. Not that we haven't been in snow before...we just haven't had to do Major Life Things in the snow. Folks hither and yon are being very generous and sweet. God is faithful in taking care of us.

HarriEd has been the crankiest little creature this week. Maybe there are more teeth on the way.

And one more thing: I miss the internets.

It all began a few nights ago...

2011-01-31T10:44:00.000-06:00

(I was going to type up some celebratory post for having stuck with the ol' bloggie for a whole year, but I thought that the anniversary was sometime in February and not the twenty-fourth of January. [THIS CHILD HAS SUCKED OUT MY BRAINS!] So since today feels like the day when I started Amelia is Rabbit, here's a reminder of the first post.)

SUNDAY, JANUARY 24, 2010

It all began last night....

Well, to be quite accurate, it all began last week when I went to the library and came home with a pile of books and we started reading chapters from Winnie the Pooh and A House at Pooh Corner out loud. (I started the wave by reading "In Which Kanga and Roo Come to the Forest and Piglet Has a Bath," but then Steve took over and has been the more diligent of us two in bringing Pooh to life in the spare moments of the day.)

Then, last night, Steve read this:

It was going to be one of Rabbit's busy days. As soon as he woke up he felt important, as if everything depended on him. It was just the day for Organizing Something, or for Writing a Notice Signed Rabbit, or for Seeing What Everybody Else Thought About It.

"It's Amelia," said he.

Hence, the name of this blog.

Snippets and Snapshots from the week (Jan 22-28)

2011-01-28T10:39:00.000-06:00

The Bronco died this week. Well, it's not completely dead, but it is getting close. The clutch has been giving us fits for the entire winter, and since we arrived in IL it has been nearly impossible to drive. The shop says that the Bronco needs a new clutch to the tune of $1250. Gulp. We really don't want to put that much money into a vehicle with nearly 300,000 miles on it. So now in the midst of everything else, we are looking for a new car and trying to determine the wisest plan of action as far as Money and No Job Yet is concerned. Being a grown-up is weird.

I guess the lid is organic, too

HarriEd likes baby food from jars. I hope that this isn't an indication that she prefers processed foods over raw, but since she is six months old and I am a persuasive cook, I doubt her tastes will linger in this area for too much longer. In the meantime, she is enjoying pears, sweet potatoes and prunes. Rice cereal is still an absolute and resounding NO. (Here, precious mommy, let me spit all of this white goop back in your face.)
I'm still wondering why God gave me, the girl who needs space, a child who likes to remain on my body for the significant portion of the day and definitely all night. But she's so cute, how can I resist? And her sad face is enough to melt the hardest of hearts.

They usually get along just fine, I promise.

We have been blessed to be able to stay at the G's house this week while they are off visiting folks in distant lands. It has been so nice to be able to cook food and have a consistent place to sleep and have a sort-of normal routine for HarriEd.
I went to Zumba this week for the first time. Wowsers. The Zumba toning class totally kicked my butt. I obviously haven't been able to exercise consistently for the past few weeks, but I have tried to sneak it in when I can. But apparently I was unprepared for dancing with weights and completing a ridiculous number of squats and lunges. It was fun, though! And I think that it will be an adequate substitute for the beloved Jazzercise. (However, I must say that major props go out to Yellow Kim and Black Kim for being the most coordinated, in-shape exercise instructors I know.)

Le maison

We are hoping to get fully moved in by tomorrow. Steve is over at the new place now to assist in moving the major appliances and I plan on going over later and doing some cleaning. Hooray!
The job hunt continues. Steve has applied for close to forty different opportunities and has only heard back from one...which happens to be 1.5 hours away. Blah. OH! He has some sort of interview on Monday with an office position for an insurance company. Pray!

Birthday flowers from Clevi.

The celebrated meal of the week has been Pistachio Crusted Chicken with Avocado Dressing. Yep, we made in twice: once on my birthday and then again the other evening. It's crazy easy and so stinkin' delicious and totally healthy. The best part? Make an extra piece or two of chicken and have a yummy chicken salad sandwich the next day.

HarriEd waiting for her daddy to get out of his Bible Content exam.

We traveled down to Covenant twice this week - once on Monday for the general orientation and then again on Tuesday for an entrance exam. The campus is nice and small and the folks are friendly. There are lots of people with babies and children, so I like that. I was told that one family from the UK came with one child and now four years later, they are leaving with five. Oh boy. (I would guess that maybe another desperate family gave some kids to the UK family, but I believe it to be otherwise....) The biggest difference between Bible college and seminary? No long list of rules at the orientation (no rules at all, actually) and the place is swarming with men.
Well, HarriEd is demanding my attention by attempting to make the Great Escape of the Century from her Bumbo chair. Tally ho!

Teeny-tiny Goals Part One: Introverted Goals

2011-01-26T10:25:00.000-06:00

This is super-late, I know. All of the New Years posts on self-improvement and vision for the upcoming months are history. But I actually did make some goals for 2011 and, thanks to the many hours spent on the road over the past few weeks, I've had a chance to refine them further in my mind. Now I want to write them down.

Now having goals is really important for me because I want to get things done in life, but without a plan I tend to waffle around. Focus, Amelia! In the past I have been able to set really big and exciting goals because, well, I dictated my own time. Now with the amazing HarriEd, things are really different. In order to accomplish any of my goals I have to resize them into teeny-weeny segments and very realistic expectations. Does this feel like under-achieving? Yes, it does. But will I achieve anything if I don't set goals? Probably very little. So here we go.

I mentally organized my list of goals into two categories: introverted goals and extroverted goals. Here are the introverted goals I hope to reach this year.

Pray more. I want to start and keep a prayer journal with personal requests and the requests of others. Steve and I have begun praying together as a couple, too.
Read at least one book a month. I probably already do this, but I wanted to have a specific goal to meet in this area, anyway. I was reading in John Piper's Think about how we have to exercise our brain in the area of reading. If we don't read then we get out-of-shape in our brain. My reading brain certainly feels out of shape these days and that's something that definitely needs to be remedied. This month I'm working on Jerry Bridges' The Discipline of Grace.
Start a regular Bible study. We are reading the Bible through with the ESV reading schedule, but I desire to start a personal study time. This will probably happen during HarriEd's first nap of the day. I'm looking at getting one of these studies, or maybe even a Beth Moore one. Any suggestions are welcome!
Make wardrobe changes. I'm pretty sure that the majority of my wardrobe consists of clothes that I bought when I was sixteen. Maybe it isn't that bad, but I'm ready to move into a more mature realm of dressing without sacrificing cuteness or the budget. So, I want to make small changes to my wardrobe through the purchase of classic pieces and the creation of adorable accessories.
Building the Etsy store. Again, I'm thinking small here: small baby clothes, small accessories, small items for interior decorating, anything that I can create in an afternoon or in a series of 15 minute intervals. This makes me crazy excited and I cannot wait to dig out my sewing machine and get started.

There you go. The list of introverted goals. Maybe I'll be able to give little updates here and there about how it's all going. Now I need to go take advantage of the napping child and read some more....

Have a splendid day, everybody!

Grace Alone

2011-01-24T06:49:00.000-06:00

January seems to be the month of moving. First it was a move to the ~~ends of the earth~~ eastern Missouri to spend a semester of training at Child Evangelism Fellowship's Children's Ministries Institute. Then it was starting classes at Cornerstone Bible Institute and having to make the drive in sub-zero South Dakota weather to move back into a dorm (times two years in a row). This year I'm moving back east with a baby and husband and a queen-sized mattress.

I was thinking about each of these moves this morning and the similarities and differences between them. As far as similarities are concerned, each move has been related to continuing down a path of formal education. Each move has been about getting more engaged in a vocation of ministry. Each move has been right before my birthday. And, each and every time, it has been freezing cold.. (I'm wondering when we're going to spend a January move heading toward the West coast. Monterey, anyone?)

And there are some differences about this move that are significant. I am now packing for three people instead of just one. My life routine will remain primarily the same as life in Nebraska (being wife-y and mommy) while Steve goes back to school. Instead of moving to a dorm life where others are in the same transitional boat, I'm moving into a house in a rural town where people are engaged in the same everyday activities that have occurred for years. (No ice-breaker game nights or school cafeterias around here.) There isn't any person in a position above us to pick up the slack when we fail: we're the grown-ups now. I feel very, very small.

Our first week has been challenging as we face the uncertainties of job hunting and the Bronco being an absolute pill and waiting for the house to be ready for us to move into. It's been hard feeling like we're in limbo without a clear direction. I have this insatiable desire to Do All the Things and that's just not possible at this point. Steve and I are both experiencing moments and hours of down-in-the-dumps in which our brains feel foggy and we just can't see anymore. We are both terrified of messing up. Then I hear from my family about the serious health struggles my grandad is facing and the uncertainty and stress that it brings. It's weird and depressing.

But it was so encouraging to go to church yesterday and hear the Word of God and remember that He is faithful to that Word and the promises that He makes. It was good to remember that He is still working out His sovereign will in this world and even though we feel like we are just a blip in this ocean of flat Illinois whiteness (yes, it has snowed and snowed and snowed here) that He hasn't forgotten about us. He won't forget about us.

We sang this song in church yesterday morning:

Every step of faith we make to move is by His grace. Each time we think hopefully and joyfully about the future is by His grace. Every chance we take to get to know people is by His grace. Every good-supportive-wife thought or action that I take is by His grace. Each opportunity to serve Him and each other is by His grace. It's a tremendously humbling truth because we can't claim any of the fame for ourselves. All of the glory goes to God. At the same time, it's a wondrously empowering truth because He supplies all of our spiritual, physical, and emotional needs with His abundant goodness and grace. This is the truth that I must preach to myself and allow His Word to preach to me when we are facing a large and looming world.

²⁶ Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. ²⁷ Now He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God.

²⁸ And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. ²⁹ For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren. ³⁰ Moreover whom He predestined, these He also called; whom He called, these He also justified; and whom He justified, these He also glorified.

³¹ What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? ³² He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? ³³ Who shall bring a charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. ³⁴ Who is he who condemns? It is Christ who died, and furthermore is also risen, who is even at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us. ³⁵ Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? ³⁶ As it is written:

“ For Your sake we are killed all day long;

We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.”

³⁷ Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. ³⁸ For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, ³⁹ nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:26-39, New King James Version)

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Harriet at Six Months

2011-01-21T07:51:00.000-06:00

This child is growing like sweet corn in the summertime! Here are few HarriEd highlights of the past few weeks.

She is eating baby food. Yes, it's true. I had been holding off to make sure that she was really ready before we dove headlong into the world of pulverized vegetables, but apparently her six month birthday was the magic time to begin. And she is really, really ready. After being introduced to sweet potatoes last Saturday, HarriEd taste for the orange stuff has progressed to the point of eating half of a jar of it in one sitting. While bouncing along in the Bronco on Monday, she ate 3/4 of a jar of sweet potatoes and devoured an entire teething biscuit. She was a happy little clam. Maybe she has just been hungry? My goal is to make all of her baby food from the raw fruits and vegetables and to make cereal from the actual whole grains, but moving has put a hold on that endeavor. Earth's Best Organic baby food and cereal is a great substitute in the meantime. This afternoon we tried rice cereal and bananas and she made a face of extreme disgust and spit it out. Hmm.
She can sit up completely on her own. She will also reach for things, grab them, and pull herself back up to sitting repeatedly. She also loves to pull herself up with my fingers and stand for a while.
She loves to eat paper. Apparently she thinks she needs more fiber in her diet. Tags are her biggest downfall.
She will stare at herself in the mirror and squawk like a parrot.
She finds beards to be particularly interesting facial features and will attempt to pull them off of the owner.
And, lastly but most importantly, she has TWO new teeth. HarriEd has been teething for months, or so it seems, and finally Tooth #1 popped through on Sunday night. This morning brought out Tooth #2. (I can't believe she is old enough to have two teeth. Crazy!) She seems very pleased with herself for this development. We are pleased parents since this will hopefully alleviate some of our sleepless nights.

Most pictures of Harriet look like this:

Cameras are just so interesting.

Here she is with some baby food.

Yay, rice cereal.

Little life update

2011-01-19T14:39:00.000-06:00

HarriEd is sleeping on my other arm so I'm attempting to give typing with one hand a shot. This may be the shortest post with the longest typing time in the history of blogging. Oh...there, I got my other hand extracted. Now we're at full typing speed again.

So we landed in IL on Tuesday afternoon. We were planning to make the trip all in one day (it's about a ten hour drive on an easy going route) but after getting a later-than-desired start on the road (thanks to a 45 minute foray into the realm of Rear View Mirror Attachment) and driving into some nasty fog-turned-into-ice in the evening, we decided to pull off for the night. If you ever need to stop in Macon, MO, I highly recommend the Comfort Inn. It's reasonably priced, super nice, and has a swell hot tub. (I'm sure that the availability of said hot tub was accentuated by the fact that I had been riding for about six hours in a cross legged position in the back seat of the Bronco, thanks to the gigantor laser printer being packed under my feet and HarriEd's need to be entertained/fed.) All that to say that our trip went very smoothly. Steve did an excellent job driving with the Uhaul trailer. HarriEd did an excellent job being herself and staying mostly calm. I did an excellent job keeping various and sundry packed items from falling on my head. God is so very good to us and we're glad to be here. Thank you so much for your prayers! I can honestly say that I never felt tense about the weather or about driving decisions or even about having to spend money unexpectedly. Me, not worrying? That is an answer to prayer!

We are renting a house from an older couple in the church here. It was built in the 50s and hasn't seen a whole lot of updating since then, so the couple and their son are spending quite a bit of time and effort fixing it up. So far the floors have been sanded and sealed (yay for hardwood floors!) and some painting has been done on the walls. We can't officially move in until the fixing up is done (boo for noxious fumes), but we were able to unpack onto the enclosed front porch. The house is quite large compared to our first little place (even most apartments are larger than 512 square feet) and my mind is starting to cook up decorating ideas. Any room can be spruced up with some retro curtains, right?

(I'll try to post pictures soon. Steve is over there now helping with the floors...I should have sent the camera with him....)

We're staying with the Gs in the meantime and I'm grateful for their hospitality. While I'm ready to stop living out of a suitcase for a little while, I'm so glad to be able to stay in comfortable places with comfortable people. There's a Wal-Mart here (I know, Amelia goes to the Big City) and a wellness center that I'm planning on getting a membership to, thanks to the generous gift from ma famille. Steve will begin his part time studies with Covenant Seminary on Monday. He is taking one class through their extension program (Reformation and Modern Church History) but it's exciting to start progress in that area of life, too.

While dealing with the practical aspects of a major life change, it's hard to keep in mind why we felt led to make the life change in the first place. Last night I attempted to summarize all of our reasons for moving into a concise thought. Basically, God is leading our hearts into a vocation of ministry, either as a pastor and pastor's family, or as teachers in the church or in a Christian education environment. We're seizing the God-given opportunity to receive both formal education from seminary as well as practical application in the G's church to discover how we fit into the ministry of the local church and the body of believers as a whole. And that's pretty much it.

That's an update on us. I need to get a HarriEd update going....

Peeking in

2011-01-13T14:29:00.000-06:00

Hello, bloggie world!

I'm back for a few days to wrap up the final packing needs and then load up the Uhaul and make the move. I kind of feel like right before HarriEd was born: there must be something I should be doing but I can't find it. Steve thinks that we should get out Phase 10.

Our trip to California was filled with family, food (seafood!), lots of snow (??), time with friends, and memories made at Disneyland and the Beach. I have pictures to prove it, believe it or not.

For now my internet time is limited, and probably will be for a while. I'm going to write posts in an off-line state and then upload them to the ol' blog when I have a chance.

Pray for us as we move. It's hard to jump into the seeming unknown sometimes. Suddenly quiet little small-town life doesn't seem so bad...but I know that as soon as Steve went back to working nights I would feel differently. Pray that our housing situation in Illinois would continue to work out. Pray that God will provide a job or an inheritance. (Mostly a job.)

And now I'm off again! See you soon!

So long and thanks for all the fish

2010-12-27T09:30:00.000-06:00

Christmas is over (we had a loverly time) and now I'm diving head first into packing for the Big Move and for the Trip to California, both of which must be completed by Thursday.

Eesh.

So I will be seeing you in all the old familiar places of the internets in a few weeks!

Retirement, Christmas giftage, thankfulness

2010-12-22T18:55:00.000-06:00

Steve is officially an old retired man.

Maybe not old...just retired from his night shift at the pharmaceutic plant. This is like Christmas to me. No more sleeping alone, no more whacky off-kilter schedules, no more day-in-day-out tussle with the stress of it all. Glory be! I am very grateful for what Steve's job provided for us: we own our house, HarriEd's medical bills are completely paid off, and we have a decent chunk of change in savings with which to make our move to St. Louis. It was a blessing while being an immense stretch-er. And I'm really glad that it's over and that now we can move onward and upward.

To celebrate this momentous occasion we hosted a little retirement party, which was made up of various and sundry brothers/sisters, friends-who-are-brother-and-sister, and a friend who is neither a brother or a sister to any of us. It was a rather hip-happening time. Steve and I had the brill idea of creating a pasta bar which was a splendid way to feed a small crowd. We just cooked several kinds of pasta, sauteed fresh vegetables, prepared two kinds of sauces, and had some chicken and bacon on the side. (My new favourite dish just may be sauteed veggies with fettuccine and homemade alfredo sauce. I can only have it after I have burned about 2500 calories and/or sweat off 15 lbs at Jazzercise.) We concurred that we will have to remember this dish when we are old and have to feed a bunch of Steve's seminary students at our house.

I have all of our presents wrapped and our stockings filled. I just love Christmas and planning ahead makes this season more fun than stressful. I want to go into great detail about the gifts because I'm so excited, but I know that too many loving relatives read this blog and then the surprises will be all spoilt. However, HarriEd can't read yet (as far as I know), so I will tell you about her gifts. She is getting a new Christmas dress which I finished yesterday. It is a jumper which is sewn from pink striped flannel and is accented with a hot pink sash (poofy bows are the best!) and little pink fabric yo-yos on the skirt. It looked awfully tiny when I was making it, but then I tried it on the little darling and the dress was definitely on the roomy side. Oh well. In addition to the dress, HarriEd will unwrap Robeez shoes (LOVE!) and four Winnie-the-Pooh related books: Now We Are Six, When We Were Very Young, The Pooh Cookbook and The Pooh Party Book.

Sometimes God takes hold of my thoughts and says, "Look, Amelia, you are actually living the life that you have desired to live." It's so incredible. I have a wonderful husband in whose love I can truly flourish. I have an adorable baby who makes my heart want to overflow. I enjoy being surrounded by my own extended family and I can really truly look forward to spending the next few weeks with my in-laws - not too many girls can say that! I am able to develop my interests of crafting, sewing, and reading without the pressure of deadlines and subjective judging. And we are moving towards working in ministry together as a little family. Hurrah!

Craftiness, etsy excitement, moving ramblings

2010-12-16T13:57:00.000-06:00

My life has been entirely absorbed by Christmas crafting projects. The biggest project was making gobs and gobs of little yo-yo trees as favors for the moms and workers who attended the MOPS Christmas Brunch. I was so very grateful for the help of my dear mother, my dear sister Clara, and my dear new friend Kylie...sewing over 300 yo-yos of varying sizes is a lot of work and I could not have done it by myself.

My "dining room" table was overrun by the little guys for over a week.

I was really pleased with how they turned out. My favorite part was rummaging around through the bag of vintage wooden spools that I picked up at a junk store to use as "trunks" for the trees. Some of the spools were green, black, or blue, some had the brand name stamped into the wooden ends. So much fun!

With all of the yo-yo making to do, I had to resist the temptation to finish our family stockings. I had purchased the supplies a few weeks ago: rich wool felt, drool-worthy Christmasy fat-quarters, and juicy rickrack. There it was, sitting in a bag just begging me to get to work. Since Steve was home yesterday, I handed Harriet to him and ran downstairs to spend a few moments on my fun project:

It was worth the wait.

Now I just have to make tags for a few gifts, finish decorating a bit, and sew Harriet's Christmas dress. Then I will collapse into a heap and go on vacation to California. No, actually I will pack up my house to get ready to move. Then I will collapse into a heap and go to California.

In other exciting crafty news, I sold my first item from my Etsy store! When I got the email notification of the purchase I nearly fell out of my computer chair. It was such a shock! Sometimes I just really, really, really want to make it on Etsy, and I just don't know what to do. It will take time and effort to both make creative things to fill my store and promote my products and with a HarriEd around I often think that time and energy are in short supply. But sewing and creating is truly a passion of mine. (It's just that the mercenary part of me wishes that other people would notice and pay me for my products.) The purchase from my store this week was both encouraging and motivational: I need to make a plan for filling my store and just stick to it. (After the move, of course.)

It was one thing to pack up all of my personal belongings into a Rubbermaid tub, load up the trunk of my car and move to a dorm room for a semester. It's an entirely different matter to move as grown-ups from an established home to another state. I found a very helpful list online which is helping me focus my energies on what needs to happen right now, rather than freaking out about what needs to happen in a month. The challenge of yesterday was to obtain information on switching the utilities/internet/gas accounts from our name and/or cancelling them. Such a simple task should not be so difficult! While Steve was cursing the world of automated answering systems, I was wishing that the Qwest website would fall into the ocean-never-to-be-seen-again. Tell me, what website signs you out of your account every time you visit a new page on the site? Not a well designed site, that's for sure. Eesh.

I won't even tell you about the whole "secret password" fiasco.

There are some things that I am not looking forward to regarding this move, namely saying our fond farewells to people (especially my family), driving in the middle of January for 10+ hours with a Uhaul trailer, and not really knowing what to expect job-wise when we make our landing. However, some aspects really excite me. This will be the first time that Steve and I will be known as a couple. Every other place we've lived or visited we have both been known as separate entities, whether at school or just being in our hometowns. I'm looking forward to being the Rodgers and getting involved in a community together. The prospect of being back in an academic environment is wondrous, as well as being able to serve more whole heartedly in a local church. I'm excited about what cultural possibilities St Louis holds, too. (I really love being able to access a city.)

Back to crafting....

Harriet update, things people say, library, answered prayer

2010-12-07T16:50:00.000-06:00

(*pant, pant* I just got the invites for the annual MOPS Christmas Brunch out in the mailbox before Mr. Postman came by. That kind of felt like giving birth. I am absolutely covered in blue glitter. How festive.)

I have been missing my dear ol' bloggie and I have been desperately wanting to write, but life has been b.u.s.y. First off, there was Harriet's cold which caused her sleeping improvements to go entirely downhill and leave me in a pile of tears the next morning. It was horrible, but now things are better. At least the last two nights have been better and that's all I ask for. One night at a time. The busyness has also stemmed from my free time (haha!) being almost entirely taken up by preparing for the aforementioned MOPS Christmas Brunch (more on that later, but things are super-duper cute) and putting my house back together after days of negligence. The laundry pile is not a pretty sight.

Taking up the rest of my time is Harriet, and that's as it should be at this point in life, it seems. Harriet has become a Big Girl at her advanced age of five-months-on-Thursday. She grabs everything and puts it in her mouth, including her daddy's glasses right off of his face. I was making snickerdoodles last week and she was sitting in her Bumbo on the counter. The Bumbo is of great importance these days since it affords Harriet an upright perspective on the world and also keeps her somewhat contained. Anyways, Harriet was looking hard at the bowl of creamed butter and sugar when suddenly she reached forth, grabbed the bowl, and refused to let go. I gently pried her fingers off before she could add any of her drool into the mixture and she wailed and hollered. This was the first time she wasn't like, "Oh, gracious Mommy! You know best, so I'll give my [insert item] back to you." Nope, she was downright angry. It was funny, but also sobering. We may have quite the opinionated, temper-ready child on our hands.

Harriet with the Christmas tree.

Harriet grabbing the Christmas tree.

Since having Harriet, I've been getting used to the plethora of comments that are showered upon her as a sweet baby and us as a little fambly. It's rather fun to have such an adorable conversation piece. Everyone should get one! Most people are so very kind and encouraging. I took Harriet into the library for quite a bit of time on Sunday and I wondered if/how people would react to such a small squirmy thing in, well, a library. After a while, an older lady came over to me and said, "Oh, she is so sweet! You wouldn't even know that she is here." That made me feel confident.

Thankfully, we haven't received too many weird comments...although one occurred yesterday. Steve and I had optometrist appointments, and we took Harriet along. I had some slight changes to my eyesight, thanks to shifting hormones in pregnancy and breastfeeding. Apparently the glasses-fitting lady knew this from my chart or something because she looked at Harriet and said, "We need to stop breastfeeding so Mommy's eyes will get better." Uhhhh? Methinks I will keep breastfeeding and just get glasses, thank you.

(Incidentally, I'm not getting glasses just yet. The prescription was so minimal that it didn't seem worth it to add glasses to my life.)

Yes, Harriet sat in the library without making one little peep for nearly 2.5 hours. For the first time I really experienced what it's like to enjoy having my child with me. Don't get me wrong: I enjoy Harriet every day. But there was something so interactive and pleasant about the two of us at the library that made me feel close to her in a mother/daughter way and not just a caretaker/baby way. Does that make sense? It makes me look forward to when she is older and can actually enjoy reading the books at the library. In the meantime, she just enjoys looking at the pictures in Winnie-the Pooh. Oh! Speaking of Winnie-the-Pooh, I have officially completed Harriet's Pooh collection with the addition of When We Were Very Young, Now We Are Six, and The Pooh Party Book, and The Pooh Cookbook. They will be part of her pile of Christmas presents.

We are still planning on moving to the St. Louis area in a little over a month. That seems like a loooong time away, thanks to Christmas and a trip to California stuck in between, but it also seems like a shoorrt time away. I don't really know what to do. We have been praying and praying for "something to turn up" to boost our moving finances and also that we could find a place to live. Both happened this week! Apparently our mortgage company got a better rate on something, so they reimbursed us the difference in the form of a pleasantly substantial check. Then we found out about a house in the exact town where we want to be that will only require a very minimal payment. God truly does provide and I'm praising him for it!

Oops, the munchkin doth awaken. And I should probably do something about this glitter. Cheerio!

Silence

2010-12-01T09:11:00.000-06:00

O God, who art the truth, make me one with Thee in continual love! I am weary often to read and hear many things. In Thee is all I desire and long for. Let all teachers hold their peace; let all creatures be silent in Thy sight; speak to me alone. - Thomas A Kempis, The Imitation of Christ

Thanksgiving and such

2010-11-30T09:08:00.000-06:00

(Company + a holiday + staving off a round of mastitis + my husband being home for six days + nipping a sore throat + laundry = no blogging. 'Nuff said.)

As Thanksgiving drew nigh this year, I couldn't help but think about that momentous Thanksgiving two years ago when Steve came to my house for the first time. He wasn't scared away by spending the night in the Omaha Children's Hospital with my dad and whining post-surgery sibling since that was as far as his carpool would take him. He wasn't scared by being surrounded by talkative girls.

He wasn't phased by the general chaos of Thanksgiving day and making a billion mini cornucopias with me.

Nor was he turned off by the day of cookie baking, the double-date with my parents, a horrible dinner and seeing Fireproof.

Meanwhile, I was a complete basket case who, after each late nigh...er, early morning talk would bang my head on the bathroom wall wondering how in the world I was going to survive if this guy didn't like me back. (My sister is my witness here.) Like, DUH, Amelia. Not too many guys would endure all of that and still be pining on the car ride home.

I'm really glad I don't have to worry about that any more.

Now, two years later, we are splendidly married and have this little muchkin:

Who helped me bake lots and lots of pies:

We certainly didn't stay up late this year, nor did we make lots of cookies together, but we did enjoy having Steve's mom and dad here for the entire week:

And eating a wonderful meal with 23 other folks at my grandparents' house. And playing Risk without having to substitute my stuffed kitty as one of the players. And just chilling for the first time in weeks.

God is so very, very good.

Fantabulous Friday: Just Doing It

2010-11-19T12:02:00.000-06:00

This week I didn't go to bed with dirty dishes still in my sink.

This week I did a quick clean of the bathroom every day after I showered.

This week I exercised at least 30 minutes each day (except for Wednesday - but lugging a baby carrier around for eight hours while running errands should count, methinks, since I was sweating).

This week I tried my darndest to eat only meal with a carbohydrate per day.

That sounds all good and jolly and "Wow, aren't I just splendid!" But do you know what? It was hard. There were many days and many times that I didn't feel like doing any of those things. I wanted to snap my Mary Poppins fingers and make my house instantly clean. I wanted to sit on my couch and eat the dark chocolate chip cookies that Steve made (lots and lots of them). And yet, since I don't live in a television fantasy land, I couldn't do those things and still have the sparkling house and the healthy and fit post-baby body that I want. I still had to do it.

Sure, I'm really grateful for all of the tools available to help me do the things that I need to do, especially since adding sweet Harriet to the mix c. FlyLady sends me an email every morning that reminds me of my cleaning "flight plan" for the day. It's nice to not only have a list of daily tidying needs, but also reminders to tackle the cleaning nasties...like scrubbing the air vent in the bathroom. (Major yuck.) It's nice to be reminded that these chores only take a few minutes a day. But having the reminders won't get my house clean. I still have to do it.

I'm grateful for the opportunity to go to Jazzercise three nights a week, and the option of having not one but four different exercise DVDs to pick from on the non-Jazzercise days. It really helps to have the accountability of my mother and sisters who go with me to exercise. It's great to have DVDs to pop in when the weather is so cold, and to have an exercise program that Harriet can do with me when she doesn't feel like watching me jump around to The Biggest Loser workout. But having Jazzercise or the DVDs on my shelf won't burn calories. I have to get up and do it.

There was a song on Mr Rogers Neighborhood that addressed this very issue (listen to to music, too):

You can make believe it happens,
Or pretend that something's true.
You can wish or hope or contemplate
A thing you'd like to do.
But until you start to do it,
You will never see it through.
'Cause the make-believe pretending
Just won't do it for you

(CHORUS)
You've got to do it.
Every little bit
You've got to do it, do it, do it, do it
And when you're through,
You can know who did it,
For you did it, you did it, you did it.

If you want to ride a bicycle
And ride it straight and tall.
You can't simply sit and look at it
'Cause it won't move at all.
But it's you who have to try it.
And it's you who have to fall (sometimes)
If you want to ride a bicycle
And ride it straight and tall.

(CHORUS)

Every little bit
You've got to do it, do it, do it, do it
And when you're through,
You can know who did it,
For you did it, you did it, you did it.

It's not easy to keep trying
But it's one good way to grow.
It's not easy to keep learning
But I know that this is so.
When you've tried and learned
You're bigger than you were a day ago.
It's not easy to keep trying
But it's one way to grow.

(CHORUS)
You've Got to Do It
By Fred M. Rogers
© 1970

Consequently, I've been singing this song all week to myself when I want the results, but I don't want to make the effort.

I can develop discipline in chores and health habits...what about spiritual disciplines? What about praying and being in the Word? To be quite honest, I just haven't felt like doing it lately. I know that I should, I know that it will only bring joy and an increased desire to know Him. But I keep waiting for that spiritual feeling which will undoubtedly prove that I'm a good Christian girl and make me feel good about spiritual disciplines. What if I kept waiting to do the dishes until I felt like it? Or the laundry? Or exercising? They wouldn't happen. I can't wait until I feel spiritual before I embark on spiritual disciplines. I have to just do it.

But thankfully, there is a tool to help. More than just a tool, actually: a Person.

Seeing then that we have a great High Priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:14-16, New King James Version)

(Amen and amen!)

Something's Gotta Change

2010-11-18T12:37:00.000-06:00

I have been fighting the temptation to be grumpy all week long. Sometimes I have been grumpy and then I fight the temptation to throw things, shred things, or yell at things (mostly People). I could supply a comprehensive list of the reasons:

I am a human being. Therefore, even though I'm saved, I still get to battle with my stinkin' flesh every day.
PMS is out to get me. Seriously.
We have been super out-of-the-house busy for the past three weeks.
My husband works a night shift and we never see each other when we are both fully awake.

However, the a-number-one reason why I feel grumpy and sluggish and irritable and completely unmotivated is because...

dun-dun-DUN!

I'm not getting any quality sleep. Ever.

Before my dear darling HarriEd began waking up every hour on the hour all night long, I was prone to think somewhat critically of parents who spoke of their children's sleeping habits. Let me just say that I completely recant: when a mommy isn't getting any sleep, figuring out how to make that change is the only thing on her brain. And her only conversation topic. So please bear with me.

(Just don't bare with me....)

Harriet's present nighttime drama goes something like this:

she nurses to sleep between 9-10pm. As a co-sleeping mommy, this means that I have to be completely ready and in bed because she will wake up completely if I try to get out of bed causing us to have to start the process all over again with much fussing and fuming.
she sleeps for about 1.5-2 hours and then wakes up and has to nurse to get fully back to sleep.
she stays asleep as long as she is touching me...preferably laying in the crook of my arm...and as long as I don't move or breathe.
she repeats this sequence each hour until I am a complete basket case and finally get out of bed anywhere between 4:30am and 6:30am because I can't stand it anymore.
she is glad that she is cute because that makes me less angry.

The problems are easily identified. Harriet has a different getting ready for bedtime routine every night. She won't be consoled without me. And the more awake I am the more tense I get which makes her more jittery.

Something has got to change. This week, guided by the principles in The No-Cry Sleep Solution, we're going to embark on a Solve the Sleep Issues Adventure. I'm going to move things around in our bedroom so that the crib can be next to our bed and she can sleep close to me, but not with me. I'm going to move the rocking chair into the bedroom (it'll be a tight squeeze!) so that she can have quality consoling time with her daddy. I'm going to have a consistent going to bed routine each night that begins at 7-8pm. Harriet will go to sleep without drama and I will spend some time alone before hitting the hay.

I have to admit that the Solve the Sleep Issues Adventure is a little frightening. I feel like I don't have the energy to tackle such a project, but I know that we will all benefit in the end. Harriet will sleep soundly, I will sleep soundly, and Steve won't have to worry about defending himself from the resident witch when he gets home from work.

Pray for us.

Harriet at Seventeen Weeks

2010-11-16T11:14:00.000-06:00

The other evening, Harriet refused to sleep on the Bronco ride home. She zoned out during our late-night dinner at Pizza Hut. She was droopy while I got her out of her carseat at home. However, as soon as I laid her down on the bed to change her into her pajamas, she revived quite suddenly and launched into the most elaborate, detailed, expressive story a 4-month-old can conjure up.

It was at that point that I said, "You, Harriet, are just like your father."

Harriet likes to help cook from the comfort of her Bumbo.

Ways in which Harriet is like Steve:

She looks like him.
She has his saggy left eye, especially when she is sleepy.
She prefers one-on-one conversation to interacting in a group.
She will completely zone out in front of the television or video game.
She likes to talk. To me.
She is happiest when she is being snuggled.
She needs food and she needs it now.
She likes classic rock music...the louder the better.
She would stay in her bathtub for hours if she were allowed.
She is rather melodramatic.

Turban-head Harriet gets ready for her bath.

Ways in which Harriet is like me:

She desperately needs routine.
She likes to get up early and go to bed early.
She will only sleep if she is sleeping with someone else (namely, me).
She has to be busy doing something all. of. the.time. No lolly-gagging around on the couch for her.
She makes similar expressions.
She likes Jazzercise.
She wears pink nearly every day.
She thrives on quality time.
She is quite melodramatic.

Note to father: if you give the kid caffeine, then you get to play with her all night.

Ways in which Harriet is not like Steve or me:

She likes to be constantly involved with the people around her.
She does not like to sleep.

This adorable pink snowsuit arrived in the mail this week without any indication of the giver. Who's going to fess up?

Holiday Prep: The Christmas Cards

2010-11-10T13:39:00.000-06:00

My calendar tells me that Christmas is just over six weeks away. Got that? Six weeks! My brain could quickly overload with all that needs to be done: mailing cards, purchasing gifts, planning menus, and so on and so forth. Thankfully, last year my mother-dear introduced me to the glories of the FlyLady Holiday Control Journal, and now I'm convinced that my holiday season will never be the same. It's all about planning ahead, writing things down in a jolly little notebook, and (most of all) not procrastinating.

So that's why I'm thinking about Christmas cards in the middle of November. I'm looking at card styles on Shutterfly.com because...

I enjoy their styles

(You can tell that I'm kind of into the one-picture-per-card look this year, but Shutterfly has many different styles available here. Especially if your fambly can get more than one nice picture.)

I enjoy Shutterfly's services. I have purchased prints and photo books from Shutterfly for many years and have always been satisfied with the quality of the products. Plus, if you sign up for their email updates you can snag some pretty delightful deals. Right now they are offering a promotion for bloggers to receive 50 free photo cards: http://bit.ly/sfly2010

Clara took some family photos of us this past week:

(Those are the goofy ones. Most of them were goofy, thanks to Steve's weird smiles and Harriet's ability to look at everything but the camera. There was one good one and it's going on the card. So you'll just have to get a card.)

2010-11-10T09:50:00.000-06:00

¹ O LORD, You have searched me and known me.

² You know my sitting down and my rising up;

You understand my thought afar off.

³ You comprehend my path and my lying down,

And are acquainted with all my ways.

⁴ For there is not a word on my tongue,

But behold, O LORD, You know it altogether.

⁵ You have hedged me behind and before,

And laid Your hand upon me.

⁶ Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;

It is high, I cannot attain it.

⁷ Where can I go from Your Spirit?

Or where can I flee from Your presence?

⁸ If I ascend into heaven, You are there;

If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.

⁹ If I take the wings of the morning,

And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

¹⁰ Even there Your hand shall lead me,

And Your right hand shall hold me.

¹¹ If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,”

Even the night shall be light about me;

¹² Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You,

But the night shines as the day;

The darkness and the light are both alike to You.

¹³ For You formed my inward parts;

You covered me in my mother’s womb.

¹⁴ I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

Marvelous are Your works,

And that my soul knows very well.

¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from You,

When I was made in secret,

And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.

¹⁶ Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.

And in Your book they all were written,

The days fashioned for me,

When as yet there were none of them.

¹⁷ How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God!

How great is the sum of them!

¹⁸ If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand;

When I awake, I am still with You.

¹⁹ Oh, that You would slay the wicked, O God!

Depart from me, therefore, you bloodthirsty men.

²⁰ For they speak against You wickedly;

Your enemies take Your name in vain.

²¹ Do I not hate them, O LORD, who hate You?

And do I not loathe those who rise up against You?

²² I hate them with perfect hatred;

I count them my enemies.

²³ Search me, O God, and know my heart;

Try me, and know my anxieties;

²⁴ And see if there is any wicked way in me,

And lead me in the way everlasting. (Psalm 139, New King James Version)

The prospect of moving to a new state and a new lifestyle in about two months is both exciting and freaky. Last night, it was mostly freaky. As I lay in bed with the snoring HarriEd all snuggled up next to me, I wondered, "Are we making a mistake? What if we can't get an apartment, or a job, or the ability to pay for school?"

Then a still, small voice said, Are you praying about this?

The truth is that we will never go away from God's presence, not even in Missouri. We will never be out of his sovereign, guiding love. He knows when we fill out apartment applications, and when we make a moving budget, and what jobs are available when we actually sally forth. He has planned all our days, before we even existed...the days of baby care and seminary studies and whatever else he leads us to do.

His works are marvelous: we have heard of how he provided for our families, when we were too small to realize what was going on. We experienced how he provided for mission trips and for school and for a wedding, when we really didn't have any money. We know how he provides for us day in and day out as we set up house and have a baby. He will continue to provide faithfully.

Search me...know my heart...try me...know my anxieties. Lead me in the way everlasting.

Harriet at Four Months

2010-11-09T14:41:00.000-06:00

My little baby is four months old today! (Or actually this morning at 3:33am, to be precise.) Four months is my favourite infant age of all: they can really interact with others, entertain themselves with toys and basically do other baby-ish things besides sleeping, eating and pooping. And it's such a happy little period before the dreaded time of teething.

I just absolutely cannot believe that Harriet is this old. I remember looking at her in her newborn, alien-like state the day of her birth and hoping (praying!) that she would survive to four months. (Not that it was a concern that she wouldn't, of course...but she was so small and I was so hormonal that four months felt like forty years away.) Here we are!

Highlights of Harriet's week include liking to sit in the Bumbo chair, meeting two very sweet little boys, getting a slight cold (not. fun), and living it up at the area children's museum:

You can see more of Harriet's four month photo shoot at this here Picasa link:

Harriet at Four Months

Much thanks to her fantastical Auntie Clara with her amazing photography/editing skills!

And so...

2010-11-08T17:57:00.000-06:00

...I don't have a blog post ready for today because

we had company last week and that naturally precludes spending time online
Harriet has been especially cranky thanks to her first bout with a runny nose
I washed my cellphone
(no, washing a cellphone doesn't hinder blogging...but it made the day rather cranky)
my laundry and dishes pile were unusually large

But I do

have pictures of the HarriEd as an astronaut
want to share about last week's adventures
miss spending time in my little blogging space
look forward to a new week

See you tomorrow!

Harriet at Sixteen Weeks

2010-11-01T09:55:00.000-05:00

Even though we don't "do" Halloween, who can resist dressing a baby up in a ballerina costume? I certainly can't.

Here is HarriEd at the Bunco costume party last week.

She wore her ballerina outfit from her Great! Aunt Paula.

Please look at the Baby and not my freaky mother.

Anthony and HarriEd were the Bunco Babies, born just two weeks apart.

Harriet is nearly four months old and she is acting like it. She likes to sit and survey her varied surroundings and look generally wise. When she is not being the center of attention (but really has no particular needs) she makes grinding noises or squeaking door noises until we talk to her. Then she starts laughing and "talking" back. She loves to be in rooms with loud music, so Jazzercise, Rock Band and family practice nights are quite swell.

Harriet's primary trick for the week was learning that Peek-a-Boo is really an exhilarating game. Steve threw his coat over the top of her carseat and from underneath, in the darkness, we heard a little, "Hee, hee." We pulled off the coat, said "Boo!" and she erupted into squeals of laughter. We played Peek-a-Boo again over the next few days, and now whenever I just say "Boo!" she starts chuckling. Silly Baby.

I also have blackmail material to share at her graduation party or with her future spouse: every morning, before she is fully awake, Harriet lets out the loudest toot you have ever heard. At first I thought it was Steve, and I was going to give him a bit of a whack, but then Harriet let out another one to prove that she was indeed the supplier of the foghorn farts. It is so very loud and so extremely ridiculous that I start laughing every morning. I suppose that it is a good way to wake up, even if it is at her expense.

Oh dear.

The child doth sleep, and I need to scurry around and get my 'umble abode ready for the company of some dear friends who arrive this evening. Tally ho!

Fantabulous Friday: Bits and Pieces

2010-10-29T14:14:00.000-05:00

Hey, friends out there!

Can you believe that it's almost the end of October? I can't. And I can't get enough of the delightful fall days, either. Does anyone have a pause button for fall? Because I really don't like winter and the longer we can put if off, the better. (I should be grateful, though, since by this time last October we had already had two snowfalls. Brrrr.)
I've been having weird dreams this week. Three separate times I dreamed that I got a nose ring (it's a sign...I just know it). Then I had a dream that I was the proprietor of a flooded cornfield in which I kept hump back whales. I fed them popcorn shrimp.
We bought the Beatles Rock Band game this week. Now, let's make it clear that I am not a video games kind of girl. In fact, I hadn't even held a controller of any variety until several months into our marriage. Steve tries to teach me what to do on relatively chill games (like Smash Brothers) and I'm usually sitting there blankly saying, "Now what am I supposed to be doing? What am I supposed to be looking at? And which button do I push again?" This delay naturally results in my getting creamed...and irritated. However, I got over my video games phobia (or perfectionistic snobbery) long enough to learn how to play Beatles Rock Band and, in short, I love it. I love that it is something that so many of us can enjoy doing together, too. Our maiden voyage with the game the other evening found me on vocals for the majority of the time, thanks to a napping HarriEd. But I did try the drums for a while, and that was cool. (Maybe my aspirations to play percussion will be realized after all.)
Today has been a rather crafty day thus far as two dozen Halloween cupcakes made it out the door by 10am and I've been working on making stuff for my art quilting class ever since. I tried some different techniques while creating background fabric papers and it was so. much. fun. I'll share pictures regardless of if they turn out well or not.
Steve and I spent a good portion of yesterday figuring out what it will take to move to St. Louis - things like a moving budget, how to rent U-haul trailers, what we need to do to apply for apartments, if he wants to be full-time or part-time in school, etc. Just writing everything down and sticking it in a completely dorky paper folder makes my brain feel so much better. As long as moving continues to be a nebulous Thing of the Future, we don't make any progress on the practical side of life. But when we start talking and breaking things down into smaller steps, we get lots accomplished. And I'm praising the Lord for his abundant provision!
To NaNoWriMo or to not NaNoWriMo. That is the question. I know that if I decided for the former, something in my schedule is going to have to take a hike - and it can't be Harriet or the laundry. The idea for a novel has been simmering (slowly) for about a month, so that's something. I just don't know what to dooooo!
I'm going to introduce the first season of Jeeves and Wooster to Steve tomorrow. Tee-hee.

Have a splendiferous weekend!

When the Darkness Will Not Lift

2010-10-27T12:28:00.000-05:00

I earnestly believe that one of the primary reasons that God brought Steve and I together in marriage was because we are both emotive people. Whether we like it or not, feelings are an integral part of our personalities and many times we act or neglect to act based on these feelings. While we want to feel good and happy all of the time (and I will say that marriage has done much for us in that respect), we are both prone to battle with bouts of melancholy and depression. Each of us went through a particularly dark period during our high school years. For me, the weight of 2.5 years of a depressing cloud was completely overwhelming and seemingly endless. Now I can see that this experience helps me to understand Steve and that his experiences "in the miry bog" help him to sensitively understand me.

Interestingly, encountering believers dealing with depression is something that pops up rather frequently amongst our little circle of family and friends. As a been-there-done-that gal, I'm always eager to gain insight as to how to help others who experience depression as well as how to help others understand what serious down-in-the-dumps can be like (particularly if they are of the naturally sanguine disposition). Therefore, I was happy this week to read John Piper's little book When the Darkness Will Not Lift.

The Book was Quick and Easy
I really appreciated the short, concise treatment by Piper on the spiritual aspects of depression. While acknowledging that depression is very much a real thing (major props here...there's nothing as detrimental to a depressed person than for someone to tell him or her that depression doesn't exist or that it is only a spiritual problem), Piper touches on possible physical influences, the role of medication, the vital importance of not confusing justification with sanctification, and some foundational truths to remember when bogged down in the darkness. Piper incorporates thoughts from well-known theologians and preachers throughout the centuries (Richard Baxter and Martin Lloyd-Jones, for example) to provide a balanced perspective. At just seventy-three pages, the littleness of this book makes it a more inviting read for those whose just don't feel like handling much more.

The Tone was Gentle yet Convicting
Throughout the book, Piper maintains that depression and the pain associated with it are realities. Rarely are his suggestions for gaining hope in the fight for joy stated in such as way as to pile guilt onto the depressed individual. While keeping a gentle tone, Piper is not lax in firmly stating spiritual truth and pointing out areas of possible sin. I was convicted in reading this passage:

Sometimes the darkness of our souls is owing in part to the fact that we have drifted into patterns of life that are not blatantly sinful but are constricted and uncaring.... We find ourselves not energized for any great cause, but always thinking about the way to maximize our leisure and escape pressure....God has made us to flourish by being spent for others. Jesus said, "It is more blessed to give than to receive" (Acts 20:35). Most of us don't choose against this life of outpouring; we drift away from it.

(Eesh. So true. That went right along with my thoughts on servanthood verses martyrdom a few weeks ago.)

The Advice was Helpful
The final chapter mentions a few things that those who are not naturally inclined toward depression can do to be supportive for those who are faced with darkness. Suggestions such as not giving up on a depressed person, continuing to lovingly share truth, and providing supportive friendship all require a hearty Amen! A brief recounting of how John Newton's persistent yet humble influence on the suicidal William Cowper is both inspirational and encouraging.

I do think that much of the premise of When the Darkness Will Not Lift is based on Piper's other books, such as Desiring God and When I Don't Desire God. Some of the impact of When the Darkness Will Not Lift may be lost without reading those other titles, but

In summation...
It was a profitable read and I would recommend it to those who battle with depression, as well as those who love them.

(You can purchase a copy of When the Darkness Will Not Lift here. I actually downloaded the PDF copy to my computer and read it for free.)

Why the Blog

2010-10-26T11:00:00.000-05:00

Here's what Edith Schaeffer has to say:

Writing is certainly a medium for communication, as all art forms are. It gives the opportunity for direct communication, for verbalizing thoughts and attitudes, for speaking truth and putting content into expression.... But one need not feel that writing has to be a career for it to be worth while, nor that it has to be prepared for by formal study before it can be fulfilling to the writer. If you feel you have an unrecognized talent for writing, or if you simply love to write and want to do it, my advice is write. But write without ambitious pride, which makes you feel it is a 'waste' to write what will never be published. Write to communicate with someone, even if it is literally only one person.

Sometimes I wonder why I blog.

Is it to acquire a bunch of readers and be tremendously popular in the blogosphere? (Haha.) Is it to share craft ideas and recipes? Pictures of the Baby? Encouragement from the Word? Sometimes I feel like I lack purpose...like this funny little bit of the web is just a mod podge of little ol' me.

Then the aforementioned quote starts to sink in: I love to write and this blog is a medium in which I can create with words and communicate with others all at once.

That's why I blog.

Harriet at Fifteen Weeks

2010-10-25T10:42:00.000-05:00

"Look at me jumping!"

This week Harriet discovered the joys of the exersaucer. She is such a get up and go kind of kid that the ability to stand up, jump, and spin around at will is a very exciting thing indeed. This also helps Mommy tremendously because it gives her a chance to do things like dishes and laundry while Harriet amuses herself.

The exersaucer does prove to be rather hilarious for onlookers as little Harriet's head just barely reaches above the height of the seat, and sometimes she will disappear altogether as she dives for her taggie blanket or for the Hungry Caterpillar rattle and what not. As the excitement of bouncing around reaches a fever pitch of shrieks and squeals, Harriet meets her expiration date and has to be picked up and snuggled for a while. But hey, fifteen minutes in the exersaucer is fifteen minutes, right?

I will confess that this past week has been one of the most challenging parenting weeks thus far. (The exception, of course, being the first few days after her birth in which I was feeling less than stellar. Why is that? Why do moms have to go through all the effort of childbirth, be miserable with the beginnings of breastfeeding, and still have to keep a child alive with little to no sleep? In looking back I think, "What the heck? That was the freakiest few days of an adrenaline rush that I've ever experienced." Maybe it's because women traditionally didn't engage in warfare and had to have some sort of super-endurance experience every few years in order to chalk one up to their menfolk. In any case, this is how God designed it to be...or at least how it works post-Fall. But I digress quite shamefully.)

I confess that this has been a challenging parenting week because HarriEd's sleep patterns are whacko. She sleeps so lightly that any movement whatsoever from me causes her to wake up entirely. Staying up into the wee sma's was cute back in college, but now it really is the pits. Because intense details of what I have done and haven't done to improve the sleeping of the Wonder Child are really unnecessary for this space, I won't divulge. However, prayers for wisdom, patience, and a few solid winks here and there are appreciated. Last night was a lot better, and that's because she was really pooped out and really full when she finally went to sleep. Hopefully tonight will afford the same happy results.

My dear mother has always said that people don't grow up until they have kids. I thought smugly, "Oh, yes, that's true. But since I've had so many younger siblings, I don't need to worry about that so much." Boy, was I wrong. The inability to do what I want when I want to do it is horribly frustrating at times and it really crushes my gotta-keep-everything-splendid ego. I think that God has graciously given me a clingy little girl who craves physical affection and full-fledged attention in order to give my progressive sanctification a hearty boost. Being Harriet's mommy in the way that Harriet needs me is way more important than being Super Crafter or Super Chef or Super Suzy Homemaker.

And that's just that.

Fantabulous Friday: A Pumpkin and a Project

2010-10-22T12:27:00.000-05:00

Ooh, boy, this has been the week of discombobulation. I blame it on last weekend's trip and the fact that Steve has been home for (get this) SEVEN days. A little distracted? Yep, that's me. All routine seems to have taken a gigantic hike.

Also, I think that the past four months of little or greatly interrupted sleep has caught up with me: I can't seem to drag myself out of bed before 9am. The laziness of me! It doesn't help that the darling HarriEd is on some sort of Got-to-Consume-Food-Every-Hour-Or-I-Will-Die kick, especially during the night. We had a little discussion, she and I, about how she can be perfectly happy for four hour stretches during the day without needing to eat. There's just something about having Mommy right at her beck and call all night which evokes sensations of extreme starvation. I'm calling this a growth spurt in hopes that it will go away in a few days. I'm too tired to try to figure out how to make her sleep more.

(But that sounds like a vicious cycle ready and waiting to happen.)

Anyways, I made a stuffed pumpkin last night for dinner:

It was very yummy indeed - just the right amount of warm, squishy, autumnal comfort food to make us all happy campers. You can find the super-easy recipe here at Taste of Home.

Some of you beloved readers have inquired as to the Free Motion Personas art quilting class which I am taking (as evidenced by the button on the side of my blog). I didn't know anything about art quilting, nor did I have a particular bent to learn until my mom plopped the kit for this online class that she received accidentally instead of the kit for her class. My brother bought the class for me as my Christmas present, and so I'm learning something new! Art quilting, from what I can tell, seems to be a combination of paper, fabric and fibers, all held together with free motion stitching. It is so. much. fun, and I have barely begun the process. Our first assignment was to make our background paper fabric. Here is my first attempt (probably of many because the process was so amazingly liberating):

I dyed a square of muslin with coffee and then layered different pieces of vintage papers, magazine clippings, scrapbook paper, etc, onto the fabric and saturated the whole thing with watered-down glue. The blue paper is actually tissue paper which "bleeds" the color when it gets wet. The envelope up in the left corner was stuck in an old book of mine and contains a grocery list from 1927. It's just really cool.

This project is fun for me because there are no rules: I have so much freedom to work with my creativity. It's not about following a pattern just right, or about being judged on some idea, or even trying to create something that someone somewhere will want to spend lots of money on. Anything goes with art quilting...and it combines my love of paper and fabric so perfectly.

A new addiction? I think so. Sorry, Steve.

Harriet at Fourteen Weeks

2010-10-18T15:14:00.000-05:00

Here is Harriet at fourteen weeks of age:

Photos by Auntie Clara

As you can see, Harriet has been working on building up her neck muscles and now she can sit in the Bumbo chair unassisted. She continues to explore the world through grabbing whatever is closest to her (paper, hair, Mr. Elephant, her pants, and so on) and sticking it into her mouth. She loves to tell stories and sing along to songs and generally entertain the masses. Last week involved the beginning of a rather nasty habit of popping on and off whilst eating, along with a lot of aggravated scratching and kicking. I think that hurting Mommy is not a Good Thing. So Harriet is learning to redirect her scratching into grabbing my fingers while she eats as well as discovering that messing around results in no food source. There are consequences, my dear darling girl.

I have been reading a book on infant massage and have been practicing some of the techniques on Harriet after her bath. Since this affords her more time sans clothing (which is loves) spending time massaging has been a fun experience for both of us. I really enjoy finding new ways to grow in my relationship with her, even when she is so small.

Harriet did well on her second weekend-long trip as she only had two major screaming fits. I certainly didn't experience quite the nerve-frying this time around as on the trip to Colorado. (Maybe I was just more relaxed about taking her on a road trip and that helped things overall.)

Speaking of road trip, there's nothing like a few days away from home to make you feel rather pooped out and unmotivated upon your return. I guess I was motivated enough to fill a cupcake order this morning, do some laundry, and work on Christmas presents. But now a nap sounds like a good idear.

You can see the rest of the photo shoot, plus some other random October pictures here:

lifeinoctober

Fantabulous Friday: Kitchen Experiments and Candles

2010-10-14T13:00:00.000-05:00

But Amelia, you say, it's only Thursday! You are right. However, my weekend technically begins tomorrow, so you get Friday's post a day early. We are actually going to take a teeny-weeny vacation to watch our mutual friend Justin galavant around a stage pretending to be Jack Worthing. Not only will that be an amusing experience, but Steve and I will get to hang with old friends and (most importantly) with each other. We've been living in different schedules for nearly two weeks without a break and so this extended weekend is greatly anticipated.

While making cupcakes is easiest with prepackaged frosting and mixes, I really don't like using them. Today was the perfect time to experiment with some homemade recipes. Behold, Peanut Butter Cupcakes with Fluffy Seven-Minute Frosting:

Wow, can I just say that Mrs. Joy's Seven-Minute Frosting recipe is the new love of my life? It's light and fluffy, wonderful to manage and grease-free (thus making cleaning up a breeze). This was my first attempt at a boiled frosting...I'm never going back. And the taste? Scrummy homemade meringue.

See that candle in the background of this picture? I have been (sort-of) participating in Making Your Home a Haven over at Women Living Well, and the first day of the challenge was to buy a candle and light it every day in my home. (This was perfect because my house usually smells like diapers and dog.) Aha, thought I, there is an enormous candle in the Grown-Up drawer in the bedroom. I can participate in the challenge and not spend any money! I am Super-Homemaker! Out came the candle, sizzle went the match and I was off to a haven-ly home.

Did you know that candles can go bad? Apparently. This enormous candle was given to me at my highschool graduation six years ago...and six years is too long for a candle to be sitting around. Instead of rich Hazelnut Coffee this candle smelled more like cold PMS tea. Yuck.

Not wanting to give up on the candle-lighting challenge, I purchased a yummy Cinnamon Roll candle on a niftly-glifty sale. It makes the house smell so good that Steve even remembers to light it when I forget. And sometimes Steve remembers to light it and we both forget to blow it out...like a few nights ago when he went to work and I went to slumber party it up at the parents' house. Brilliant. Visions of a toasted dachshund danced through my head as I prayed that the candle would just burn out.

It did. My home was still a haven and not a Hades.

(This week's Making Your Home a Haven challenge of playing music every day is a trifle less stinky...and dangerous.)

Have a good weekend, everybody! I'm off to actually see the man I'm married to....

Things That Make Me Happy

2010-10-13T12:17:00.000-05:00

I have a list about as long as the Sleepy Wrap of ideas for my blog. I want to write about teaching children about Christ and about our silly candle experiences of late and how the Law is preached more than the Gospel and about how I want to be Edith Schaeffer when I grow up and...things like that.

And I was going to write some sort of brain squishifying post today about having to watch others struggle and wanting to always give the right answers, but I feel splendidly joyful on this perfect Autumn day and writing about depression was sure to get me rather gloomy. Instead, I'm going to list five things that make me particularly happy today.

Number One: Babies.

Steve and I started watching this documentary last night on Netflix. It is utterly delightful. The lack of narration amplifies the simplicity and beauty of the babies as they grow in each of the different environments. (And, yes, I started crying when the newborn African baby nursed...I swear it gets me every time.)

Number Two: A Cloudless Blue Sky.
Harriet and I went for a jaunt down to the hospital auxiliary Rummage Sale this morning and the weather was beyond incredible. Why can't fall just stay here forever and ever? (Getting 25 cent jeans at the sale makes me happy, too.)

Number Three: Cute Engagements.
Clara shared this link about a super-cute engagement photo session with me yesterday. Oh. My. Goodness. Can I please get married again so we can take pictures like this? Steve already has the glasses...

[Amelia runs to get a Kleenex.]

Okay, I'm back.

Number Four: Bungalows.
Did you know that my darling little house is really and truly called a Bungalow? Lo and behold, that's what the appraisal papers say. I've wanted to live in a Bungalow ever since I read about the Moffatts living in a Bungalow...or was it the Pyes? Man, mothering brain has taken its toll and Google isn't helping me out here. Anyways, I live in a Bungalow with a hydrangea in the backyard that I didn't even have to plant.

Number Five: The MOPS Steering Committee
Our MOPS meeting was yesterday morning and I was truly blessed by how our steering committee works so efficiently and well together. I love the maturity, the empathy, the genuine helpfulness and the Christ-honoring spirit exhibited in these ladies. It makes all of the hard work of planning and conducting each meeting seem like fun! And it's making me smile a whole day later.

So, tell me: what is making you happy today?

  But let all those rejoice who put their trust in You;
         Let them ever shout for joy, because You defend them;
         Let those also who love Your name
         Be joyful in You. (Psalm 5:11, New King James Version)

Harriet at Three Months

2010-10-11T15:55:00.000-05:00

(In other words, my brain is fritzing out today on how many weeks old Harriet is...but her three-month birthday was on the 9th and I can remember that.)

For some reason she decides to nuke all of her cute chatty faces when I pull out the camera. Silly girl.

I remember when I played with a friend's three-month-old baby just one day before Harriet was born and how I thought, "Wow, this kid is so big. It'll be forever before our baby is this big." Well, it certainly wasn't forever...I know that much.

Harriet is still a bit of a peanut, but you can see some chubby rolls starting to develop on her thighs. (Maybe she will also inherit her daddy's thin legs and won't have to put up with inherent saddle bags like her mommy.) Even though she looks small, Harriet acts very old. She likes to be the center of attention constantly and prefers intelligent conversation. She laughs at me when I sing to her and she can sit through an entire chapter of House at Pooh Corner. She is moving on up into 3-6 month clothes. She can sit for longer periods of time without needing to eat.

Harriet did relatively well on her major car trip. She slept pretty well in the carseat, but when she was ready to get out she let us know with great vehemence. I was grateful to be around people who didn't mind if a baby whose needs had been met still insisted on wailing as if I poking her with a hot iron or something. Mom said that I was more traumatized by the screaming than Harriet really was, but that consolation didn't do much for my completely fried nerves. Eeeeesh. I'm glad to be home.

(And we get to go on another three-day trip next weekend. Ooooh boy.)

I dubbed Harriet a High Maintenance Baby the other day and after reading Dr. Sears' The Baby Book, my suspicions were confirmed. Basically, she has to be the object of our attention at all times - be it talking to her, carrying her around, wearing her in the wrap, and so on - or she will dissolve into a puddle of crankiness. I am not (let me repeat not) a proponent of letting the baby cry herself to sleep nor do I think that Harriet is being spoiled by all of this attention. She's a three-month old for crying out loud. But sometimes it gets a little wearing.

On the other hand, having a clingy baby definitely has its perks. I love, love, love being able to "read" her and interpret her needs accurately. I can tell the difference between a sleepy cry and a hungry cry. I love it that her real routine is just being with me, so I can take her on an extensive road trip, see lots of new people, and sleep in three different places without her freaking out entirely. I love it that she finds comfort and security in being "worn" and that I can really do anything with her attached to my body (except for showering...that was easier when she was attached to the inside of me). I love the connection that we have. I hope it continues for her entire life.

In other news, I'm trying to get back into the swing of home life after being gone for a few days. My dear sweet husband cleaned up the massive pile of dishes and the house before I got home, so that was a tremendous jumpstart to my day. He's my hero.

Spectacular Saturday (formerly known as Fantabulous Friday): A Little Roadtrip

2010-10-09T20:32:00.000-05:00

Can you guess where we are?

Out on the porch.

Yep, that's right. On Thursday, Mom, Harriet and I packed into the red minivan and trekked across the more hideous parts of western Nebraska and eastern Colorado to go visit the grandparents in beautiful Estes Park. Grandad was having surgery, so we came out to keep him (and Grammy) properly distracted and entertained.

Harriet being her entertaining self.

We like to think that we have been pretty successful since Grandad's surgery went off without a hitch (but with a stitch or two) and Harriet has slept every time we go up and down the Big Thompson Canyon...which has been three times, now.

Four generations.

Highlights of the trip have included:

stopping in the creepiest. town. ever in eastern Colorado. Seriously, girls, lock your doors.
spending all day at the hospital.
eating some scrummy Italian food.
hyperventilating in Hobby Lobby.
drinking lots of decaf coffee.

Harriet and Great! Aunt Paula.

And seeing our wonderful Aunt Paula. She is the total bomb and we love her muchly.

Harriet doesn't like to be squished. I don't know many people who do.

Tomorrow we will go home. I, for one, will be very glad to see Steve even if it is a work night (we weep!) because going for more than four days without kissing your husband should be against the law.

Servanthood vs. Martyrdom

2010-10-06T10:26:00.000-05:00

(Blogger is telling me that "servanthood" isn't a word...is that true? The Merriman-Webster online dictionary thinks otherwise.)

So, yes, servanthood. I've been thinking a lot about servanthood lately because God used this past week to reveal that so much of the time my genuine desire to serve people is actually self-exalting martyrdom. And it's not pretty.

"I do everything for everyone ALL of the time," I inwardly wail. Adding a sweet baby to the scenario of keeping up a house and husband intensifies my heart of a martyr: "No one else has to ever care for her as much as I do and I have to feed her all of the time." And you know what's funny? While I engage in The Internal Running Dialog of Ultimate Sacrifice, I continue to shove my hands into sudsy dishwater or run to the laundry room to pull out another load of clothes from the dryer...just because I want someone to notice and applaud my (obviously) superhuman efforts.

The truth is that it feels good (i.e. satisfies my stinky ol' flesh) to pat myself on the head and say what a good little sacrificial girl I'm being today. And it's even better when someone says, "Oh great Amelia! We couldn't survive without you!" But is that really serving my dear husband and baby from a heart of love? Nope. What it really comes down to is Pride. That's the difference between serving from a heart of a martyr and serving from a heart of love.

Then I think about how Jesus Christ was the ultimate servant:

...even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. (Matthew 20:28)

And in love he emptied himself so that he could fully serve:

...though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:5-8)

Jesus served and spent himself to the point of death...in love and in joy.

But what about me? Is there any hope of really serving from love and in joy? Can the martyr complex really be eradicated?

We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. (Romans 6:6-8)

Because Jesus served and died, my prideful self is no longer enslaved to sin. I don't have to be a martyr when I face another day of dishes and laundry and baby care. Through daily reliance on his abundant grace I can serve freely and truly from a heart of love.

Aren't you glad that Jesus really paid it all? Are you continually amazed at how his death and resurrection makes all the difference in how we live every single day? I am.

(And I'm glad that Jesus wasn't a martyr.)

Harriet at Twelve Weeks

2010-10-04T11:40:00.000-05:00

Click for larger image.

Here is Harriet Alice at twelve weeks of age. She was not particularly camera happy this week, but that is probably due to the fact that she was all dressed up and cute and trying to poop while I was attempting to get all up close and personal with the camera. Sorry, Baby.

What has Harriet been up to this week? Oh things like...
...rolling over
...staring at Flori
...grabbing and chewing
...singing songs and telling stories
...putting up with her mom's new obsession with blog redesign and Etsy
...responding to her name, etc.

She's a sweetie!

Fantabulous Friday: Winnie-the-Pooh

2010-10-01T09:05:00.000-05:00

I came home from running errands yesterday to discover Steve and Harriet cuddled up on the couch with this:

That makes my heart happy, yes it does.

Apparently Harriet listened to two whole stories while I was gone (I guess she her reading attention span is longer than her crafting attention span...we must work on this...). Then we pulled out her very own Winnie-the-Pooh book:

It's so cute. She loved it and we loved it.

I've been spoiled by things like Winnie-the-Pooh (and Dickens and Austen and Wodehouse and Sayers and Lewis and Tolkien and even McCall-Smith) and I'm having a terrible time finding new books to read that are actually worth it. What about you? What's something that you have enjoyed reading recently? Let me know!

Waiting

2010-09-30T11:11:00.000-05:00

Harriet's snorts and squeals quickly evolve into a full-blown wail as we continue to bounce along on our Sunday ride home from church. Mr Elephant, jingling helpfully from the car seat handle, has lost all appeal. The pacifier is obviously just an overrated distraction.

"Hang on, honey," I say, reaching to the back seat to pat her head. "It's just a little bit longer now."

That only seems to exacerbate all of her sensibilities. Mom, I have been in this car seat all. day. long and Mr Elephant is so boring and he keeps whacking me in the face and I'm near the point of utter starvation and you keep shoving that stupid plastic nipple into my mouth and it doesn't do a thing for me and I'm sick of sitting in here and I WANT TO GET OUT NOOOOOOOOOW!

Steve and I glance at each other and smile. Oh the drama. There are just three miles left before home...she will survive.

But Harriet, with all of her baby capabilities, has no sense of distance and no knowledge of just how quickly her needs will be met. She continues to scream.

Fast forward to a week or so later and another Bronco ride. Harriet sleeps peacefully, Steve drives placidly, but I pout in the front seat.

God, I just wanted to have enough money to buy some beautiful fabric just to make some beautiful things and I don't want to have to give up all of our savings to have to fix our stupid broken vehicles and how in the world are we going to be able to move and find new jobs and I'm jealous of other gals who actually get to sleep with their husbands at night and I just want us to feel like NORMAL MARRIED PEOPLE NOOOOW!

God lovingly smiles, shakes his head. Oh the drama.

Like Harriet, I don't know when or how the answers will come...and it's so easy to keep on wailing. But if Steve and I love Harriet and will provide for her needs at the end of a car trip, how much more will God in his steadfast love provide for my needs each and every day?

I do know this:

For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. O Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you. ~ Psalm 84:11-12

(For a neat story about getting what you really need when you really need it, check out this snippet about J.I. Packer.)

Chocolate Trifle (or Amelia Enjoys Her Sunday Foray into the World of Sugar)

2010-09-28T14:49:00.000-05:00

So this probably isn't a good day to post this since I just got back from a MOPS meeting during which we listened to an excellent program on healthy eating habits. Maybe I'll talk about healthy eating habits first and then I'll get down to the nasty stuff.

In order to get back down to pre-baby weight I've been very consciously attempting to lower my carbohydrate and sugar intake, as well as exercising at least five days a week. I usually pick which meal will include a carb item (toast, pasta, etc) and then plan so that the rest of my meals will be sans carbs. It can be really challenging (especially when Harriet and I walk down to visit Granpa at the bakery), but a little diligence goes a long way: I'm only 4 lbs away from my goal.

What does this post's title have to do with all of this health/weight loss stuff? Well, you see, Sunday is a day of rest and not only do I rest from cooking (thanks to Qdoba and frozen pizzas), I also rest from my healthy eating regimen. That equals eating something of a Dessert-ish disposition. Hence the Chocolate Trifle that I made for Sunday night church.

It was incredible. You just can't beat chocolate cake soaked with coffee and layered with chocolate pudding, whipped cream and Heath bars. Yum, yum, yum. This recipe was also super quick to assemble and make an enormous bowlful. (No, I didn't eat the entire bowl, although it was tempting.)

Here is the recipe:

Ingredients

1 package (18-1/4 ounces) chocolate fudge cake mix
1 package (6 ounces) instant chocolate pudding mix
1/2 cup strong coffee
1 carton (12 ounces) frozen whipped topping, thawed
6 Heath bar (1.4 ounces each), crushed

Directions

Bake cake according to package directions. Cool. Prepare pudding according to package directions; set aside.
Crumble cake; reserve 1/2 cup. Place half of the remaining cake crumbs in the bottom of a 4-1/2 or 5-qt. trifle dish or decorative glass bowl.
Layer with half of the coffee, half of the pudding, half of the whipped topping and half of the crushed candy bars. Repeat the layers of cake, coffee, pudding and whipped topping.
Combine remaining crushed candy bars with reserved cake crumbs; sprinkle over top. Refrigerate 4-5 hours before serving. Yield: 8-10 servings.

You can find the original here at Taste of Home.

It definitely made Sunday worth the wait.