Don't you love it when...

...you cut up a beautiful, fresh apple on a clean cutting board, only to take a few bites and realize that the cutting board must not've been too clean after all and your apple tastes like a beautiful, fresh onion?

Yeah, me too.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Mom,
More and more often when faced with a problem, I find myself thinking, "how would my mom react?" I try to approach situations with calm assurance, a positive attitude, and - above all - patient love. These are among some of the most beneficial gifts you have raised me with. Really, they're all I would have needed to grow into a good person, but you gave me so much more, as well.

Thank you for being a wonderful mother and my best friend. How did you ever manage?! (I know...don't tell me...YEARS and YEARS of practice.)

You're the best. If moms were something to be purchased, I wouldn't have been able to afford you. God was too generous in saving you for me (okay, I guess Eric got you too, but still). You deserve to have an amazing year, and a perfect day.

Happy Birthday, I love you!
Sarah

PS - Your Rum Cake is ready!

Trust me

Mia's doing better today after a long night filled with fevers and nightmares. It never fails that right when she's going through a rough patch with being afraid of shadows or monsters, there's something on an innocent TV show to spark even more trouble.

This morning on PBS, one of her favorite cartoons was on, featuring - you guessed it - a monster. Of course, the moral of the story was that the scary stuff was all in your imagination, and the "monster" was just a silly, nice creature. But a three year old doesn't understand that yet, so all morning she talked about not wanting to take a nap today because she was "a little bit scared."

I try to keep her away from those shows when they get too scary. But then I think, what if this is the time it makes sense to her, and she'll see that it's all just pretend? When night comes around, though, I am reminded that she's not yet old enough to understand the concept of "imagination."

I'll shield her as much as I can, because I definitely remember those terrifying moments between dreams and reality. And more importantly, I remember my mom holding me close while I fell back to sleep. I want my girls to know that I'll be there to help them, even if it's an imaginary worry.

We've fluctuated between telling Mia that there are no monsters and telling her that there are no monsters here. It sounds so similar, but it's the difference between denying their existence and acknowledging it. I think we've finally settled on denying it. We'll continue to insist that there's no such thing as monsters, while letting her feel our protection anyway.

If only she'd just believe us! Her imagination (plus all the TV shows she thinks are real) has her convinced that scary things are out there.

She is so thoughtful and really thinks for herself. Which equals stubborn and unmovable in some situations.

Though, she did believe me earlier today when I was making her lunch. She saw the piece of cheese I was about to put on her grilled cheese sandwich, and immediately protested. She dislikes cheese, and by dislikes, I mean runs kicking and screaming from it. From all but a grilled cheese sandwich, that is.

She said, "NO, Mama, I don't want that yucky cheese, just delicious grilled cheese!" (I promise, word for word.)

"Oh, baby - you won't have this cheese, you'll just have your sandwich. Don't worry." She took that at face value, and walked away happy.

She trusts me not to fool her with cheese. I almost feel bad.

But not quite.

If only she'd trust me where monsters are concerned. We'd all be happy campers. (Happy sleepers?)

Weekend Update

Lauren has gotten three more teeth lately! It's made for a fussy time, and I hate seeing where the new tooth bulges under her skin. It looks so painful. That's 4 teeth in the past 3 weeks. Torture.

She'll look so big with a mouthful of teeth. Then comes the walking, longer hair, talking, and...and...kindergarten...college...wedding!

Somebody stop me.

Anyway, we've had a lazy weekend here recovering from the holiday. Mia woke up the day after Christmas with some fever/vomit bug. What a present! She's still not completely over it; she's been feverish and cuddly ever since. It's not too bad though, and for that I am sooo thankful. It's enough work to clean up after Christmas without cleaning up "the yucky" too.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas! Now get back to work!

Or not. Who am I to talk?

I may be a little crazy...

When we started having babies, we received some wise advice to not tiptoe around the house trying to be quiet. The theory was that the babies would never learn to sleep with outside noises if we were being unnaturally quiet all the time.

This sounds practical and intelligent, but for the life of me, I cannot do it. If it took a long, hard effort to finally get the baby asleep, how could I possibly knowingly disturb her? No, I'd rather tiptoe.

Despite my being unusually quiet when the kids are sleeping, they seem to not wake at normal house noises. But there's always a chance right? My mind says, "but what if she's in just the right phase of light sleep, and she wakes up?"

I cringe when someone dares to blow their nose without first being behind a closed bathroom door. The girls sleep on. You close that bathroom door without gently easing the latch into place? Every muscle in my body tightens, but the girls won't notice. Poor Justin eats his dessert with a plastic spoon sometimes, just to avoid my pained look when a real spoon clangs the side of the bowl.

It's sudden and loud, OK?

Case in point, Thanksgiving Eve I had a cookie crumb crust to make with the food processor. Justin caught me in the act.

You say crazy, I say considerate.

Yet, I can probably count on one hand the number of times one of these noises has disturbed one of our sleeping babies over the last three years. So it's clearly my issue.

Here's why another man would have divorced me by now:

Today, Justin headed out to pick up our Christmas gift to each other - a new TV. We ordered it last week, and we're pretty excited to join the cool-flat-screen-club.

I had just put Lauren down for a nap, and was pretty certain she had fallen asleep, when Justin was ready to head out the door. Her bedroom is right behind the garage, and all I could think about was, "when Justin starts the car, Lauren will hear it! She'll wake back up!"

I offered the following completely sane, reasonable alternative. Justin could put the car in neutral, and I'd push him out of the garage, down to the bottom of our steep driveway, where he could then start the engine.

Makes sense, right?

Guys?

Well, when you look at it written down it looks a bit over the top, but...like I said...this is my issue.

Justin, the sweet, kind, normal soul that he is, thought I was joking when I suggested it. I smiled and laughed and assured him I was positively serious.

And would you believe, he let me do it?! This is why I married him. (Well, this, and he's a hottie.) He loves me in spite of my craziness, and humors me as needed.

He was laughing all the way down the driveway. Not even cursing under his breath!

P.S. He even parked in the street when he came home. Man, I love that guy.

Leave me a comment, please!

I think I got the comments fixed so you can leave messages now. If it's still not working, email me.

I'm just about ready for Christmas to be here: only a few presents left to wrap, a few things left to bake/cook. Is it pointless to wrap presents for a 9 month old?

I'm feeling more spiritually ready too. Last week in church, when the Advent wreath had only the middle candle still unlit, I felt a rush of anticipation. What a wonderful season.

Mia's definitely ready: she's running around in her new dress, prancing and checking out her reflection in every available surface. That's what Christmas is all about, right?

Merry Christmas Eve!

Noodles!

I made noodles from scratch! They were a lot easier than I thought they would be, and they turned out really good. Justin and Mia both liked them too, so that was a plus. I put them in some leftover chicken & broth I had frozen from a few weeks ago, added some carrots, celery, and onions, and the soup was on!

My Grandma offered me the use of her pasta machine to make these, but I was feeling adventurous. Which means I forgot to get the machine from her in time, so I cut the noodles all by hand. I probably would have had a harder time with the right tools anyway, and this was easy enough to get done quickly.

This is why I'm not allowed to mow the lawn. I get sidetracked easily, and forget to pay attention to my lines.

They were a little on the thick side, so I'll try to roll them out a bit more next time. But even as thick noodles, they tasted great.

I had some leftovers, so I'll try to dry them overnight, and store them for next time.

Mia and I also made some Christmas Ornaments:

And she actually did help. There was a lot of counting and pattern recognition. I think that fulfills my home-preschool effort for the day, no?

Productive day, huh? Now I'll go sit on the couch while the mess festers in the kitchen. I'm not feeling that productive.

My Christmas Gift

This morning, Mia has been feeling kinda puny. I'm trying not to blame it on a lack of nutrients from last night's dinner boycott. Breakfast was a success, though, so hopefully we're headed in the right direction.

She's been wrapped up in a baby blanket, snuggling whenever she gets a chance. Usually, she's pretty go-get-em, so the cuddling is nice.

When I sat down earlier to nurse Lauren, Mia crawled up on the couch with us, lifted my free arm around herself, and leaned her head right close to Lauren's. This has never happened before. Even in the beginning when she was clearly jealous of the new baby, she never snuggled with us; usually it was more yelling and fit-throwing. Attention getting things. So this was precious! Lauren was smiling while nursing, (one of the cutest things in the world) and Mia was giggling. They were playing with each others' hair, holding hands, and just generally enjoying each other.

I haven't asked for any specific gift this Christmas, but I think I have already gotten the best one; that two-daughter snuggle. It's not easy to physically nurture both girls at the same time, but this morning, as it happened, it was the biggest blessing I think I could have gotten.

Occasionally, there are these moments that take my breath away. Moments that bring tears to my eyes and make me fantastically happy. Moments I think God sends to me so I won't forget to savor the precious children he's entrusted to us. Moments that are heavenly.

The Food Feud

Mia is a good eater. Good in the sense that she has a great track record for trying new things, and she will eat a wide variety of foods. She's good with veggies of all kinds, and loves meat. But it's become very difficult the past few months to get her to eat. Nearly everything I put in front of her is met with, "I don't like this, mama!" I figure this is normal behavior for a three year old. What's not normal, as far as I'm concerned, is Justin's and my response to it.

See, she's never been too adept at actually feeding herself. So for a few years now, we've been putting bites in her mouth. A nasty habit, really - one we've tried to undo innumerable times. However, I've always figured that she needed the nutrition more than she needed to learn how to eat.

Here's why it's changed now: SHE KNOWS HOW TO EAT. BUT. JUST. WON'T.

It's made mealtimes anything but enjoyable. Every breakfast, lunch, and dinner is accentuated with a running list of directives from Justin or I. "Scoop a bite." "Put it in your mouth." "Chew, Mia." "Stop singing and chew." "Scoop another bite." "Put the bread down and scoop. a. bite." And if that weren't annoying enough, I raise my voice (dare I admit...yell?) more at the dinner table than any other time.

It makes me crazy. Crazy, like, I'd rather dance barefoot in the snow, than sit through any more of these mealtimes. Something has got to change.

So yesterday, we threw in the towel. From now on, her food goes in front of her, and we eat in peace, whether or not she eats a darn thing. She will get no snacks after lunch until she's finished enough to constitute a meal. She will stay at the dinner table until her food is finished, or bedtime, whichever comes first. She may get hungry. (Therefore, eat?) She'll cry for sure.

But our status quo is ridiculous. I feel bad for her, just dropping our fork-to-mouth help. Where help equals force.

Tonight she maybe had 6 bites of dinner, plus some crackers and juice. And sobbed when she didn't get to play before bath time.

Wish us luck. Or, better yet, leave me a comment with some helpful suggestions. I'm all ears.

$2.70

This is how much our late Christmas tree cost. $2.70!!

Justin took Mia to get a tree this morning, and they were all nearly picked over. (Imagine that, December 20th, and they're out of good trees.) He called and told me that we ended up with a Charlie Brown Christmas tree, so I was expecting the worst.

But this isn't bad...especially for the price.


It's a bit shorter than we usually get, and this one has poky needles. See how good I am with species names? I just skip it altogether, and go with the aesthetic value of the tree.



Species? Breed? Style? What would it be - help me out here.

Mia was very excited that she picked this tree "all by myself, Mama!" Good thing there were only a handful left on the lot. I can't decide if it was so cheap due to it's being sad and forlorn, or due to the poky needles. Either way, this is the least we've ever paid for a tree, and my Holiday Cheer is officially here! (It seems my Holiday Cheer is penniless.)

We got to decorating right away, and it went pretty quickly - Mia's enthusiasm was catching. She dug through the box of ornaments (she kept saying, is it time for the "mints" Mama?) and I remembered that being my favorite part of tree decorating as a child too. It's like a lot of little presents being dug out to play with for just a few weeks. Or just a week in our case!



Lauren supervised. This was dull for her until she got hold of a giant silver jingle bell. Then she was excited, too.


We ended up with all the kitschy ornaments on the front, with all the boring matching balls on the back, but Mia loves her creation. I had no idea she'd be so excited; maybe this was a good side-effect from waiting so long to get our tree. She's been seeing them at other places for most of a month now, and her anticipation has grown the whole time. She was happy to add the finishing touch, too.


This little angel has been on our Christmas tree since Justin and I first had a Christmas tree at our old apartment. She used to fit our 3 foot pre-lit tree perfectly. Now she seems a bit small, but we have never felt the need for a new one. She's our angel, darn it. She's watched our family grow.

Sniff. Tear. Ahem.


So it's finally done, and I can feel Christmas on it's way. It doesn't hurt that it's only 14 degrees outside as I post this. If that's not Christmas weather, I don't know what is.

Oh, wait...SNOW is Christmas weather, that's what.

Now I'm off to wrap presents! Hooray!

Sisters much?

Mia is on the blue chair, at about 7 months. Lauren is on the pink at about 6 months.

I can see so many similarities, but I hear most people saying that they look totally different. What do you think?

Besides the fact that I make a mess out of the cereal?

Looking at pictures like these make me feel happy and sad all at once. I'm so happy to remember those moments, but I'm sad that I can't still have those moments. I want to have my cake and eat it too.

I'd like to see them grow up, but go back whenever I choose to, and see them as tiny babies too. Can this be arranged? No? I'll just have to keep having babies? (smiles!)

Aunt Ellie's Floating Peach Cobbler

This stuff is goooooood. My grandma gave this recipe to me several months ago, and I've used the heck out of it. It's one I always have within arm's reach, unless it's hiding behind the oven.

Grandma got it from her life-long friend, Aunt Ellie. Now, Ellie's not a blood aunt, but my family has always called her that. She and her husband, Doyle, were the first real friends Grandma and Grandpa had when they moved to California as newlyweds. So give all of the much deserved credit for this recipe to Aunt Ellie. I'm sure she won't mind my passing it around.

Beware! There's not a single thing about it that's healthy! "Dessert" and "healthy" aren't friends at my house. Please make it anyway!

And send me the leftovers. Scratch that, you won't have any. Unless you're my beautiful sister-in-law, and have a disturbing aversion to baked things (baked fruit at that! Crimeny!).


Ingredients:
1 stick (1/2 Cup) Butter
1/2 Cup Sugar
1 Cup Flour
2 tsp. Baking Powder
1/2 tsp. Salt
3/4 Cup Milk
1 large can Sliced Peaches in Heavy Syrup

Melt butter in 9x13 baking dish. (Just put it in the oven while it's pre-heating.) Mix flour, baking powder, sugar, salt, and milk in a small bowl. Pour over melted butter in baking dish. DO NOT STIR! It will look odd, just some pools of batter sitting in hot butter, but that's Ok. Don't fret. Spoon peaches and syrup over batter. DO NOT STIR! Just pile 'em in there, and pour any leftover syrup right on top. Bake at 350 for about 40 minutes or until as golden as you like it.

I usually add an additional small (15 oz.) can of peaches to the large can, omitting the extra syrup. This makes the cobbler go (a bit) further! Like, it'll last a whole day instead of merely 3/4 of a day.

This is such a fun dessert to make. It goes in the oven looking like a sad excuse for a cobbler, but the batter rises up through everything and surrounds the peaches, surprising you when it's done.

Enjoy!

A Letter to My Fellow Grocery Shoppers

Dear shoppers,

The holidays are upon us, and I'd like to say a few things that have been on my mind. You all have been quite excitable lately, for obvious reasons. Of course you have festive dinners to prepare. You have party snacks and goody plates to assemble. This is understandable.

What I'd like to suggest is this: Save some groceries for me!

Some of us are a little behind the times as far as holiday preparations go, and when I make a trip to the super Wal-Mart, I'd like to be able to find a box of Crispix for my puppy chow. Alas, there are none. I'd like to locate a small bag of mini-pretzels to dip in melted chocolate. Again, you have cleaned them out. Are these requests unreasonable? I think not.

When a simple ingredient is all that stands between me and holiday cheer, I get cranky. After all, who knows what store in town will finally have those Crispix? I cannot be expected to drive all over creation for a box of cereal. (OK, that's not entirely true, as it has happened before.)

So please, if you happen to wrestle another shopper for that last box or bag, do me a favor and tell management to reorder again, pronto. I don't like to cry in the cereal aisle. You wouldn't want that would you?

Ever selflessly and generously yours,
Sarah

Edited to add: Target customers? You rock. Thanks for leaving me some Crispix. You must not know the joy of puppy chow at Christmas-time. I hope someday you'll experience its crunchy/sweet goodness. Bless you.

Oh, Christmas

I keep waiting for the Christmas bug to bite me this year. (Geez, a lot of bugs around this place lately, huh?) I'm just not feeling it. And I think it would help if I at least had done some decorating, but my motivation is missing. This is a case of a dog chasing it's tail - I'm waiting to feel in the Christmas spirit to put up decorations, but if I'd just do it, my spirit would probably follow.

It seems like more trouble than it's worth, though. I can only think of all the mess to clean up after it's over. And that's what's stopping me from even getting out of the gate, I think. We have yet to even get a tree, and I'm already feeling the post-Christmas let-down.

Maybe when the kids are older, and more interested in the season, they'll spark the spirit in me. I hope. And it does just need to be sparked. I know it's in there somewhere.

Here's what I'll do: decorate this weekend, hope my Christmas spirit is awakened, and pig out on some treats I'll make in my spare time. Sweets make everything a happy occasion.

Cooking and Cleaning

I have a little recipe card holder that sits on top of the back of my range. It's probably only intended to hold a single recipe, but I have several favorites stashed there. It sometimes migrates, as needed, to the counter top. See it right there, to my left?

(Mia chose my outfit that day, the yarn socks in particular. Who knew she was a fashion genius?)

Well, it would have been better if I always had it on the counter, because last week as I was replacing Grandma's Swiss Steak recipe card, I pushed the whole thing over the edge, into the abyss behind the oven.

I just kind of stared at the empty space, not able to comprehend my next step. Should I call someone to find out if loose papers behind the oven is a fire hazard? (Answer: no. I'd probably end up sounding like an idiot with no knowledge of electric appliances. A true story in any case.) Should I not use the oven until I found out? (Answer: no. I've got things to bake. I dare you to deny me my baked goods.) I resolved to figure it out later. My usual resolve.

But I needed those recipes! Aunt Ellie's Floating Peach Cobbler is in there! Justin's favorite dessert ever!

My mom (who comes over every morning before work, bless her early-rising heart) suggested pulling out the drawer at the bottom, removing it if possible, and retrieving the lost stuff that way. Simple solutions are usually the most evasive for me, so I'm glad my mom's around to make me feel like an airhead as needed.

Anyway, today I pulled the drawer out and looked beneath the oven, worried about what I would find hiding there; at first glance it wasn't too bad. Dust bunnies, a pen, a crayon, several dry macaroni noodles (Mia's go-to kitchen activity - dumping and scooping and general mess making), and a few unidentifiable clumps of goo. I'm guessing raisin goo. But also, my recipes! My card holder! (Thanks Mom!)

I cleaned up what I could, reaching to the back for the papers. In order to do this, I had to nearly lay my head on the floor, mind you. Contort my upper body in weird ways. But I got what I wanted. Then I looked closely at what I assumed was a piece of dust bunny I'd missed. Right where my hair had been dragging the floor.

It was a crawling, moving, wiggly little something. And it was crawling back to it's buddies. I totally succeeded in muffling my scream so the kids wouldn't notice I was freaking out. I jumped around a little, shaking my hair out, and blessedly, I didn't find any of those things. Actually, the girls probably would have enjoyed my crazy bug removal dance.

After cursing my slovenly cleaning habits, I seriously cleaned that floor. Then since I was down there, I looked across the whole kitchen, and noticed bits of food under Mia's booster seat that I never quite managed to reach with my regular sweep ups. Which needless to say, could be more thorough. Cobwebs under the cupboards. Spilled dishwasher powder. A few pieces of cat food by the back door. Gross. How can I not have noticed those things before?

Now, though, my floor has never been cleaner. I went on a binge. It is done.

Want some cobbler? From my now clean kitchen?

Hello? Anyone?

OK. I'll post the recipe, so you can make it in your own kitchen. I understand.

A Monudental Occasion

I'm sorry. Truly, I am. That pun was uncalled for. I have too much of my mom in me to pass up such an opportunity, though.

Mom? Love ya!

Anyway, Lauren's 1st tooth is through! I can see it! Poor thing, she's the sweetest girl, and I've barely even noticed any fussiness. But what little there is, I'm attributing to that tiny razor-sharp tooth. The one right next to it seems to be pressing up too. Yay!



So chewing those cheerios is about to get a lot easier. Not that it's too difficult without teeth - she just slobbers on the thing until it cries uncle.

I just think those two little front bottom teeth on babies are so cute! Mia's first teeth were the top two, so this will be something new.


I'll take the tooth brushing drama that's about to come our way, happily. And I'll probably look back on that sentence in a year or so, thinking, "dumb old girl!" But for now, I'm excited.

An Early Resolution

The other day, I ran into an old high school friend. I haven't seen him for years, and his life has taken an exciting route. Well, exciting to me, who stays at home most days playing tea party.

I tried to make small talk, which I am terrible at. I really could benefit from some training in small talk. This led to me joking about the laundry I do all day, compared to his work in the recording studio. And I heard myself saying dumb things but I couldn't stop my myself.

I talked about staying at home with the kids, and it sounded like I was apologizing for being lame. Like I'm not proud of my work.

Because that's what it is; my chosen profession - my work - is my family. I choose to stay home and raise my kids every minute of the day. To see every step and witness every new ability. To be available, making a home for my husband and children. This is what I've always wanted to do and I feel very rewarded. I feel being a mother is so special, that I couldn't imaging giving up this chance to take a job elsewhere. For as long as it's possible, I hope to be a stay at home mom.

And if I had chosen to work away from home because I felt called to do so, I would have nothing to apologize for then either. The point is that whatever path God puts us on, we are there for a reason.

So why did I sound disappointed? I don't wish I was in his place. I don't desire a life other than my own. If anything, I see myself as the lucky one. Who's to say he didn't admire my family life?

I think it's my need for approval. If I'm not exactly like someone, they can't possibly like me, right? This brain is warped, I tell you.

My favorite part of the Lord's Prayer is "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, On earth as it is in heaven." If I pray that prayer with an open heart, I should have all the tools I need to live joyfully. I should be able to see that the work I do, and the attitude with which it is done, plays a part in bringing God's Kingdom to us, now. Even a little part means something. And my being a mother definitely has the capability of building some heaven on earth. I try to plant seeds in our children's hearts for a life lived loving God.

Now the part about God's will being done is a tougher statement for me, one I struggle with on a momentary basis. But the Kingdom - that's what I hope for above all else. Because if God's Kingdom is here now, his will cannot be questioned.

My new year's resolution should be to exude confidence and contentment, joyfully living out God's plan for my life. That, and get better at small talk.

It's on her mind lately

Last night when Justin got home from work, Mia was so excited that she immediately began outlining the fun things she wanted him to do with her. This is normal.

Apparently, I'm not rambunctious enough. Which is fine with me, but poor Justin gets bombarded with games the second he walks through the door. Only last night was even more urgent because he had been sick all weekend, so the hyper playing had been missing for several days.

Before he even got thru the door, Mia was yelling all the games she wanted to play: stand on your hand, throw you, chase you, pillows. Justin said, "OK, OK! But I need to go to the bathroom first, and I have to go NOW!"

Mia called after him, "Don't go pee in your pants Daddy!"

Ever helpful, that one.

Am I an adult yet?

When I was in high school, I couldn't wait to be a mature adult. Truth be told, I just wanted to finally be comfortable in my own skin. It seemed most adults were like that. They'd been around the block, and knew themselves. And had no trouble finding their place in life.

But as a teenager, I was awkward. I wanted nothing so much as to be socially graceful. Of course, with the grace part would come the confidence part. The popularity part. The beauty part. This was understood.

Only...I'm an adult now! And where's my grace?? I'm still a red faced, mumbling girl in the presence of intimidation. I still say the wrong thing most of the time, and I'm just glad that I get to stay home with the girls, so the chance to flaunt this "talent" doesn't arise often.

I'm definitely glad to be a grown up, though. If nothing else, I get to choose where and how often to embarrass myself! And Justin says he doesn't see red cheeks any more these days...he misses them.

Poor guy. I'll have to see what I can do about that. Class reunions will be coming up soon, plenty of opportunity on that front!