Finding Thankfulness in Loss

Last November 1st when the "thankfulness posts" on Facebook started rolling out, they brought a smile to my face. I was taking steps to improve my health, my husband was beginning classes to start pursuing a passion, and we were expecting a new baby in June. I had so much to be thankful for! I was completely in the spirit of #thirtydaysofthankfulness.

Then, two days later, the heartbreak happened. We lost our baby. All of the excitement and thankfulness and hope became a gaping hole, an emptiness we now carried with us. Now those 'blessed and grateful' posts seemed like a slap in the face. All the baby bump photos and autumn themed baby announcements were painful. The Baby Makes 5 sign and the tiny pumpkins that I had gathered for our own family photo shoot were stored out of sight.

My miscarriage triggered a flare up of inflammation and increased pain. Some of the health measures I was taking caused a temporary onset of neurological symptoms and I began having visual distortion, memory lapses, and panic attacks. Stuart's schooling and work load increased and we struggled to find balance as a family. Suddenly, it was not so easy to find thankfulness in our circumstances.

I cannot tell you the process, nor can I take credit for the strength that brought us through the last year. Grief is a many faceted creature, and the only way we kept ourselves afloat was by turning to God, turning to each other, and turning to friends who cried with us, prayed for us, and offered us hope. We learned to forgive the hurtful, but usually well intended words, and we thanked God for the ones who brought us meals, hugged us tight, and said, "I'm here".

It's November again, and the gratitude posts are circulating once more. This year, they are not as painful, even though our circumstances have not changed so much. Our baby is still gone, my health is still not great, and we are still trying to find balance as we transition to a self-employed business.

Yesterday, one of my friends and a fellow Hope Mom, posted asking people to name one thing they were grateful for, and three reasons why. And while I have many things I am grateful for, when I read her question and pondered it through the day, I kept coming back to the word "loss".

I am thankful for loss.

I am thankful for how loss reminds me how much I have gained. There are many things in life that remind us not to take things for granted, but there are fewer things more powerful than death to make us realize how precious the people in our life are. In losing one child, I uncovered a newfound appreciation for each day that I am given with my other children. And while it is gut wrenching hard to explain and help children process grief and loss, their simple faith and childish understanding brought me more comfort than anyone else. Helping others through their loss has helped me find healing in mine.

I am thankful for loss because it has opened doors. Several years ago, I felt like everyone I cared about was taken away. My best friend and I parted ways, my crush quit texting me, and I discovered that someone I admired had been lying to me for years. It felt like God had pulled the rug out from under me. For about 8 months I felt isolated and alone. Then I met someone who I never would have fully appreciated if those other friends had been in my life. He became my best friend, my crush, and my hero all in one... so I married him! Likewise, there are now many women I am honored to call my friends that I met through the loss of my baby and the loss of my health. Circumstances of loss give us the change in perspective to gain friendship and empathy for people we might otherwise not connect with.

I am thankful for what loss has given me to look forward to. Before we lost Phoenix, my kids didn't really understand the concept of Heaven. An unseen God living in an unseen place is hard enough for an adult mind to grasp, let alone a toddler. But now, they know that it is a place where our loved ones will be, not just the baby brother they didn't get to meet, but others who are dear to our family. We are able to turn that anticipation into faith, belief that we can see them again. What better encouragement to stay strong and walk the Christian path than to know that our loved ones are cheering us on, waiting for us to be reunited?

Thankfulness has not taken away the grief. There will always be sadness attached to what we have lost. It will have it's ups and downs - all healing does. That is an inherent part of love, that we also have to hurt sometimes. But having loss does not mean I am lost, and the things I have gained give me much to be thankful for.

Even If It Breaks Your Heart

It is hard to accept that God sometimes gives us blessings that we cannot keep. November is traditionally a month to express thankfulness, and never in all my Novembers have I had to struggle so hard to express that thankfulness through the sorrow that filled my heart. You see, for six short weeks, one small life changed our lives forever. 

We were "done" having kids... and those two little blue lines made us realize we weren't done at all. I was burnt out and discontent as a mother, and in one moment, I was renewed and ecstatic to be a mommy again. The day before I found out I was carrying a new life I had found the courage to speak truth and throw off some baggage I had been carrying far too long. It really was in God's perfect timing that after burying some of the angry ghosts of my past I was at a place to be able to receive this precious gift with joy instead of resentment. 

There was joy, so much joy. Even after the heartbreak, there is still joy. Joy that he was with us, no matter how short, joy that we know where he has gone, joy that we can see him someday. But there is now a piece of us that is missing. That life, that potential, all the hopes and dreams wrapped around that tiny person are now walking along side us, a blank space that doesn't get to be filled. We hope there will be other babies to fill our arms, but they will never replace or repair the pain of the one we carry in our hearts. 

In the short time I carried our baby, I had many of the early symptoms that I had with Grant, which leads us to believe I was carrying another boy. We named him Phoenix, which represents rebirth - his rebirth into Heaven, my rebirth as a mother, and the rebirth of our commitment to parenthood, letting God tell us when we are done, not the other way around. We chose Josiah because he also was a rebirth of the Godly kings in the Bible, a rebirth of the Israelite's commitment to God.

It has been a hard month. Moments that we anticipated the day we first saw that positive test, they never came. What did come were moments when I found myself weeping because others were pregnant and I was not, or sobbing in my three year old's arms because he told me he was going to "take his big airplane up to Heaven and get Mama's baby back." There were days I desperately wished other people knew what I was going through, and yet I couldn't bear the thought of telling them. 

We had planned to announce the baby on Thanksgiving. So after a few weeks of just trying to function, we simply wanted to get away and hold our little family close on this holiday of counting blessings. So we did. A little cabin, a beautiful lake, and a turkey dinner at a picnic table where we thanked God for Phoenix and the impact he had on our lives in that brief span. 

We're still picking up pieces. We are still finding our eyes filled with tears at unexpected moments. We understand that this was a gift, and a lesson. Something to heal from and grow into. And we are learning to accept that sometimes God gives us blessings that we don't always get to keep. 

The Safety in Silence is Over

I could do the safe thing. I could post this in my birth trauma group, or not post it at all. I've been told before that things like this are better shared privately, because not every one is on the same journey as I am, and "at least I was able to have children".

But I'm not content staying silent anymore. Because it was the voices of women before me speaking up that made me feel less isolated when I felt like maybe I'd failed, or maybe I'd never be all right again. If they had stayed silent, I wouldn't have been able to heal, and if my voice can help just one other to heal, it is worth it.

Three years ago, my life changed forever. What was supposed to be a joyous, sucessful introduction into motherhood turned into a living nightmare. My plan for quietly bringing my son into the world and spending our first precious hours soaking in every detail was shattered in minutes by bright lights, strangers everywhere, and tubes and needles being shoved into his beautiful soft skin before I ever even had the chance to touch him.

He and I have never seen each other without our scars. His from IVs and heel pricks, mine from a surgeon's knife. We also didn't get to know each other before the emotional scars too. And those are the ones I hate the most. The ones I've tried to hide. The scar on my stomach healed beautifully, my heart has not.

For months I battled severe depression, anxiety, anger, detachment, and post traumatic stress. I would alternate between wanting to give my baby away to someone who could love him more, to not wanting to let him out of my sight because I would have flashbacks of his birth and be afraid he would be taken away again. Irrational fears were making me back out of plans and avoid leaving the house. I hated driving with the baby in the car because we might gett into an accident, and I would have panic attacks if I had to drive at dusk or in the dark.

Then, eventually I found peace. We lived with my in laws for a month before moving into our new house, and it was the best thing that could have happened. Not being the one primarily caring from the baby, being able to care for myself, and the daily socialization with people I felt safe around gave me room to breathe. It was there, watching my mother-in-law take joy in all of Grant's antics, that I first felt genuine attachment to my son. I had finally been able to take a step back & fall in love with my baby for who he was, instead of seeing him as a reminder of what we had been through.

We've been through a lot, he and I. Healing is not a linear progression. Trauma is not the same for everyone, and it is not something you simply "get over" and move on from. But we can move forward, one small step at a time.

Happy birthday, my son. Mama treasures you for all your bravery and sweetness; for all the times you patted away the tears on my cheeks during those dark days & for giving me the strength to step on to the healing path. I love you, my little warrior.

Funny Little Thing Called Worth

I grew up with the belief that a mother's worth lies in what she sacrificed for her children. And that, unless she sacrificed it all, she was selfish or messed up or influenced by feminist worldview. Her time, her health, her hobbies - all of it had to be laid on the altar of motherhood with the hope that someday she might be able to regain some of it once her kids grew up. "Milk/medicine/_____ is for the children" was a phrase burned into my mind at a young age; even though I didn't feel like this self-depreciation was right, it still molded my actions when I became a mother.

My husband and I are focusing on our health this year, both physical & mental. Recently, I was recommended for a therapy that is relatively expensive, and while discussing it with Stuart, I mentioned that the price was making me hesitant to try it. When he pointed out that just a single visit to his holistic doctor had cost nearly that much, my immediate thought was "Yes... but you're worth it." Now, I've been working a lot on self-care and learning to combat my negative preset responses, but it's still there. And I don't use the word 'combat' lightly.

You see, I fight daily to keep my head above the waves of worthlessness and the gaping void of depression that tries to pull me in. It was only by the grace of God and the love of some very good friends that kept me going. And when I found myself thrown into motherhood dealing with anxiety, depression, PTSD, and my skewed perception of my role in life, it was the love and support of my husband that made me reach out for help.

Because maybe, if others saw my worth, I could see it too. And, maybe, if the man of my dreams thought I was valuable - I could find value in myself as well. So I did. It's not an easy journey, and I don't think I'll ever completely reach the end, but I am finally on the path to healing. I am valuable, for who I am, not just for what I can offer. Being a mom is just one of the many things I do, and being a genuine, wholehearted person is a much greater legacy to pass on to my children than being bitter or feeling selfish for wanting alone time. Finding my peace & teaching my kids to find theirs is purpose filling and gives my role meaning.

"God loves us the way we are, but he loves us too much to leave us that way."

My Birth Journey (Part Three)

This is Part Three of my series. You can read Part One here and Part Two here.

I was in active labor for six hours. I could feel G's head descending, but since I wasn't allowed to move, there wasn't much I could do to help the process. The pitocin caused my blood pressure to increase, so they began giving me doses of labetelol trying to bring it back down quickly. It worked just a little too well, because when my blood pressure dropped, the baby's did too, which was unsafe for him.

I am not sure how high or low my blood pressure actually was at this point... they had permanently turned the screen away from me, and they seemed to just be going from turning on the bp cuff to giving shots into my IV. Eventually the doctor and hospital CMP came in and told us that we needed to prepare for an emergency C-section. I asked for a moment with Stuart, then the anesthesiologist came in to place the epidural.

My contractions were so close together that the tech couldn't wait for a break to place it, so I gripped onto Stuart's arms for dear life and tried to hold still. It's funny what fear can do, because I had been shaking uncontrollably, but my terror of having it put in wrong superceded the pain. Even still, they misplaced it the first time & had to do it again (my heart sank when he said the word "again" after he got it in).

After not sleeping, or not sleeping well for almost two days, I was exhausted & the only thing keeping me awake was the pain. Once that wave of anesthetic hit, I couldn't feel anything from my diaphragm down, and my whole body & brain just closed down. Which scared Stuart, who thought something had gone wrong - I was able to mumble, "I'm ok" before they put me onto a gurney & wheeled me to the OR.

One of the most vivid things I remember from the C-section is that the warm blanket they had put across my arms fell off, and my arm was cold. When I tried to take off my oxygen mask, they wouldn't pay attention to what I was saying & just held it back to my mouth. I didn't feel any part of the surgery, except for an odd sensation like when your foot is so numb that you poke it & don't feel the outside sensation, but you can still feel the muscle move.

Stuart & Mom barely had time to get back there before Grant was delivered. I actually didn't know Stuart was there until afterward when I asked the anesthesiologist where my husband was & he pointed to my right hand. My brain was so focused on just waiting to hear the baby's first cry - and it never came. There was this odd grunting sound, and then they announced his delivery, but he didn't cry because there was too much fluid in his lungs & he was in distress. I would later learn that he scored a 3 out of 10 on his APGAR test, and that they had to do a lot of work on him to get the color into his skin. Mom took a picture of Stuart standing over the warming bed, and you can still see the finger marks where they were massaging him.

Meanwhile, they stitched me up, which I could only describe the feeling as "like a bunch of people were trying to catch fish with their bare hands in my stomach". Not quite sure what was actually going on, but that's what it was like. They took me back to my room via the NICU, pushing my bed next to Grant's for a few minutes. I didn't have my glasses on, so I couldn't see him, and he was in a warming bed, so I couldn't touch him either.

They brought me back to L&D, where I got to see all of the family and they went home to sleep. For the next 12 hours, I was under observation to make sure there were no complications from the preeclampsia, like hemorrhaging or seizures. I was moved back to the antepartum ward, and finally made my first attempt to get up on Sunday. It was so strange to feel so weak - this was the first surgery I'd ever had, and between the pain & the meds, I felt like my legs were just sewn on to my body by the cesarean scar.

Finally, on Sunday, over 24 hours after the delivery, I got to visit NICU in a wheel chair. It felt so unreal. I'd had friends whose babies had been in the NICU, but I never thought I would become one of them. There I was, staring through the little plastic door of the warming bed at my baby, wondering if it was ok to touch him. Since I wasn't able to stand, they let Stuart change his diaper, then they lifted the cover off the bed and maneuvered all of G's cords around so I could hold him for the very first time.

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We celebrated G's 1st birthday yesterday. He is a hysterical, smart, full of life little boy. I call him my "handful & heart full". My relationship with him has been a journey of it's own, and I'm so glad that S has been right there with us. We love him like crazy, and his laugh can light up even our worst days.

This post is dedicated to two of my many wonderful nurse technicians, a group of amazing women with lots of patience & dedication. To Zdenka, who claimed, "She's mine" when I got back to antepartum - it made me feel pretty good that I was a patient worth fighting over! And to Lauren, who came down to NICU for my blood pressure check & brought my pain meds because you knew I was sitting with G. Your compassion is what makes you a true nurse!

My Birth Journey (Part Two)

This is the second post of a series - you can read Part One here.

I made it to labor & delivery around eleven on Thursday night, and spent twelve hours on the Cervadil. I was dilated 4cm, but not having many contractions, so they gave me the option of Pitocin, or a balloon induction. Since the balloon was more natural I chose it, but I wish I hadn't. Basically, they put a balloon in your cervix, pump it with water, and there are three small tubes taped to your leg. It is painful, and so uncomfortable that you can't sit up or lay on your side really. 

I was able to get about an hour nap leaning over on Stuart on the pull out couch before the contractions started coming harder. I moved back to the bed hoping that Stuart could get some sleep, and I tried to rest between the contractions. I was connected to the fetal monitors, an IV, and a blood pressure cuff that went off every half hour. It was nearly impossible to roll over without messing something up, and I counted time by when the cuff would go off. The nurse had turned the computer screen away from me so the light wouldn't bother me, but there was some comfort in watching my contractions on the screen, knowing that the computer was picking up on my pain. I also tried to will my blood pressure down before the machine took it. If it was over 180 on top, the machine would beep until the nurse came in to turn it off. 

My mom was sitting in a chair next to me dozing when my water broke. I had wondered what it would be like, if I would know when it happened... I'm pretty sure that G head-butted it, because I woke to a huge POW that came over the fetal monitor (like someone thumped a microphone) and a rush of fluid soaking into the sheets around me. It made me yell out & woke Mom and Stuart. We called the nurse who seemed skeptical if it actually was my water, until she had to change the sheets. 

This is where my memory gets a little hazy. They started me on Pitocin & they were giving me magnesium for the preeclampsia. I wasn't allowed to stand up, and they eventually told me I could only lay on my left side because it made my blood pressure too high when I moved. The contractions were hard and very close together - my mom wanted me to count between one ending and another beginning, and all I could ever get out was "one" before I began groaning. She & my student midwife J took turns rubbing my back & bringing warm rice bags to put around me. They had told me the magnesium would make me feel hot & nauseous, but I was shaking so much that my brain told me I was cold. 

The next six hours are a blur - I just remember that someone was always holding my hand, Stuart mainly, but occasionally J or Mom. My husband's family was in the waiting room, and I think they came back once or twice, but I really don't remember. I knew that Stuart was exhausted & didn't feel well, but I couldn't think of anything but that I needed him there to keep me from going crazy. In an effort to ignore the pain, my brain obssesed over the little annoying things - my gown and sheets were wet and irritating, my feet were cold, and all the tubes hanging off my arms & belly made me feel trapped. As long as I could focus on the feel of his thumb rubbing my hand, I could block out the other things. 

Usually in life, we are able to avoid unpleasant situations. I have done my best to steer clear of conflict, and to only take on challenges I knew I could handle. There is nothing that could have prepared me for this challenge, and I certainly would not have thought myself capable of handling this. Today's post is dedicated to my birth "team": Stuart, my moral support, to Mom, my emotional support, and to Jeanne, who did her very best to make me comfortable & reminded me to breathe. 

The picture below is of me right before they took me to labor & delivery.

My Birth Journey (Part One)

This is my birth story in all it's imperfection... I've been wanting to write it out, and I hope it might either be an encouragement to those who have been there, or to help those who haven't to understand what some mamas are going/have gone through. 

This time a year ago, I was being prepped for an induction after a long journey with pre-eclampsia. I had spent four weeks in the hospital on bed rest. Some days I felt really good, and it seemed useless to be there. Other days my legs/feet were so swollen & my vision was so blurred from the high blood pressure that getting out of bed to go to the bathroom was a struggle.

Almost everyone who came to see me told me how they would have gone crazy. "I don't know how you do it", "I could never do this" etc. In some ways being an introvert was a benefit, because I actually don't mind being alone, and I am pretty comfortable with the same routines every day. But, as an introvert, there was nothing I wanted more than to be *home*. I got tired of having people come in and out, doctors asking questions, everyone asking if I was doing ok. There was nothing that could be done until the baby came, so it was draining to come up with a smile and an "I'm fine".

I would spend half an hour in the shower, enjoying the fact that nobody would bother me in there. It was where I could go to cry and not have to be strong. For a few minutes, I could wash off the nasty hospital feeling & get myself from patient to human again. I probably cried in there every day the last week of my pregnancy - I wanted my bed, I wanted to sleep, and I wanted desperately for this baby to be out of my body so that I could feel better again. And then I would cry some more, because I felt so guilty. Guilty for knowing that the longer he stayed inside, the healthier he would be, and I felt selfish for not caring. Guilty because I knew my husband & family were so completely stressed about me, yet there was nothing I could do to make it better.

When Dr. Boone told us that it was finally time to start inducing because my body couldn't handle the HBP much longer, I was relieved. And then scared. I am the person who wants to be prepared, and nobody had prepared me for this. I hadn't gotten to take my birth classes, I wasn't getting the home birth & midwife I had planned, and I was scared to death of having a C-section. They told me they would let me labor naturally as long as possible, but if anything happened, a C-section was going to be necessary. I tried to push it in the back of my mind, but I read the cesarean chapter of my birth book just in case.

After they started the Cervadil Thursday night, we got ready to move our stuff from antepartum to labor & delivery. You can gather a lot of things in one room over a month! The dietician, Carol, who had been delivering my meals every day teared up when she brought my dinner & found out I was leaving. I had always tried to be pleasant when she brought my breakfast at 6:15am and I was still half asleep, even though eating was the last thing on my list right then. I imagine she didn't receive a pleasant welcome from everyone. When she came over to give me a hug, my mom took a picture of us - I wish that I'd had a picture with so many of the amazing nurses who cared for me.

I'm going to dedicate each post, and today, this is dedicated to Carol, for always having a smile on her face & being a little ray of sunshine in my day.

Part Two coming tomorrow!

Realty Reality

"Your dog's poop on my front porch makes him so endearing!" said no neighbor ever. We are really ready to move out of our apartment! It's been a good place overall, and the management is great, but we got new neighbors a few weeks ago & they've only solidified the choice we made to find a new place to live at the end of the month.

We looked at two places today - we've looked at a LOT of houses the last month. They are each unique, some more than others. Like the walk in closet with three rows of clothes rods & hooks for jewelry. Or the one where you had to go through the kitchen to get from the living room to the dining room. Today's had a hole poked in the drywall of the closet, which upon further inspection revealed a 2x3' empty space - like a secret closet with no access?

In other news, G. loves to dance to Pandora, which is adorable. It's funny how kids add stress, but they take it away, too.

New Face, New Place

I know it's been about a million years since I've posted. I gave the blog a makeover, and now I'm starting over fresh! The new blog is going to focus on things going on in my life now - being a wife, being a mom, and being in a totally different place in life.

To bring y'all up to speed, here's a brief update:
I got married! I met S. about three years ago & we've been married almost two years. We have adorable baby G. who will be a year old in two weeks! Time really has been flying. Currently we are looking for a new place to live & I'm trying to pack while keeping an eye on G., who is in the process of learning how to walk. He also likes to *unpack*, so we play a two-steps-forward-one-step-back game. :)

That's what's been happening in my world! Keep an eye out for more posts in the future - it's good to be back!

My Personality Told Through .Gif Images

It's been... awhile. I know. You see, there's this funny thing called Life that seems to get in the way of me doing things. I also created this sort of anxiety about coming up with blog material, and I didn't want to feel forced to write, so I avoided it. Laziness? Maybe. Full schedule? A little. Being in a relationship? Absolutely that is just an excuse.

Today I thought I would share with you a little more about myself, as told by .gif pictures. I find myself staring at these mini-movies late at night and laughing hysterically. So, I thought why not share the laughter?

I'm not gonna lie, this image is somewhat freaky, but it expresses my reaction EXACTLY:

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This is what I turn into after having too much coffee:

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Putting pants on fresh out of the dryer:

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When I'm basically through with being social:

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How I feel about two o'clock in the afternoon:

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My reaction when anyone comes in my room unexpectedly:

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Grabbing a snack from the kitchen to eat upstairs:

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And finally:

What sort of .gifs describe you? Leave a link in the comments! 

The Places You'll Go

Check out this map generator I discovered - it has you fill out all the states you have visited, and the colors coordinate to how familiar you are with that state:

Red means I've just passed through, maybe seen a thing or two.

Amber means I've at least slept there and seen a few things. I have a first-hand idea of what the state is like.

Blue means I've spent a good amount of time in that state.

Green means I've spent a lot of time in that state, weeks at at time on multiple visits – or lived there.

As you can tell, I've basically only seen the middle of the USA, with a little of the north eastern coast. :) You can make one with just the US, or one with the US and Canada. 

Visit the webpage here: http://www.defocus.net/visitedstates/ to make your own! If you do make one and post it somewhere, leave a link for me in the comments!

It Says "Blue"

We had a slight delay in the painting project - my sister J. was going to help me, but she wound up sick over the weekend. :( So I got started on Monday instead. After doing the walls I realized now the ceiling looks dingy, so I think my project just got bigger...

Ok, so this is really strange, but when I am trying to load the before/after pictures, they keep loading sideways! I've tried a few things, and it's not working, so I'm just going to load them on G+ and put a link to the album here.

Have you seen the Valspar paint commercial with the chameleons? It makes me laugh:

Not Yet!

We had our first snowfall today! AND IT'S STICKING! I'm not ready for this yet!

I think October 20th is the earliest we've had snow since we moved here.

You can see the remains of my tomato plants... guess growing season is over! 

How has your weather been?

Changing

I am starting back at square one with the blog... this time I am committing myself to writing at least once a week, instead of every day. After realizing that I could not give that level of dedication, and trying to ignore the blog for awhile, it seemed like something was better than nothing! 

There have been a few more changes in the wind lately. As of today, my oldest sister, N. has been married a full week! Not only did she get married, but is now living much farther away than the bedroom next to mine. She is now closer to old friends and family, and very, very happy - so while we will miss her, we are also happy for her. The wedding was beautiful, and combined vintage nostalgia and woodland elements. 

N.'s dress was our maternal grandmother's wedding dress, with an overlay cut from our paternal grandmother's bridal veil. Since B. used Darcy's quote from Pride and Prejudice when he proposed, there were paper roses and leaves in all the bouquets and boutonnieres taken from a copy of the book.

ACT II

The second part of changes, which I alluded to in my last post, is really the main, #1 reason why I got distracted from the blog... I'm in a relationship! In August I was still keeping the news relatively low-key in the case that it wasn't going to continue, but now that he has met all of my extended family and friends, and I have met his church family, I suppose it is officially well known enough to announce on the blog. :) You can blame him (or thank him!) for the fact that I now share all the boring the details of my daily life with just one person now, and not all of you, haha. But I still do want to write, and to keep you in the loop, hence my rededication to write at least once a week. 

After the wedding, we were able to spend a few days over the weekend with him and his family. We visited the Ft. Worth botanical gardens and conservatory, which it was unusually chilly outside, but beautiful. 

After church on Sunday, we relaxed at the house and played Boggle and Scrabble:

 A shout-out to B. for 'pinecone'! :)

It all came to an end too quickly, and yet we were also ready to give up our nomadic ways and settle back in at home. I now have a bedroom and "sitting room" with the recent vacancy... I am thinking up all sorts of ways to arrange and decorate in there. More on that soon!

Dinosaur Eggs: Make Your Own!

I know... I haven't been on here in a while. :/ I'm sorry! I do have a few good excuses, but I won't tell them to you just yet. :) 

Today we had our annual VBS on Digging For Answers about how dinosaurs fit into the Biblical account of creation. Fascinating stuff! For our outside activity, we created "fossil eggs" for the kids to break open and chip away at with little screwdrivers and toothbrushes. They had a blast, and since we did it outside, there was no cleanup! 

Dino Eggs:
1 1/4C dirt
1 1/4C flour
3/4C salt
1/2C sand

Mix all your ingredients, then slowly add water until the mixture is moldeable. Form a ball roughly twice the size of your dinosaur (or whatever plastic toy you want), flatten onto a piece of wax paper, then gently push the toy into the center and begin folding the 'clay' around it, adding more as needed. How many it will cover depends on the size of your toy. Place on a cookie sheet and put out in the sun to dry - this will take several days, and you will want to rotate them so they get hard all the way around. After a week of drying, ours were still moist in the middle, but the outside was hard enough to provide the kids with a challenge, but not be so rock hard it's frustrating. 

Give the kids mini screwdrivers, bamboo skewers, toothbrushes, etc. to "excavate" their toy out with. For the really little kids, we just gave the eggs a good whack with a hammer and let them pull the pieces off. Hope you enjoy!

Frozen Hot Chocolate

Did you know Dairy Queen now has a $1-$2 frozen treats menu?? Why does nobody tell me these things? Well, to show you my love, I am telling you... the frozen hot chocolate is a must. Daddy bought me one the other day, and I thought, "Wow, I wonder if they are always this good!" So on Sunday, I put them to the test and took Mom along. After one sip, I heard the words "life-changing" "best thing I've ever had" and "I am so having another one of these soon." In my opinion, they taste like Oreo cookies blended to silky smoothness with ice cream - really, what gets better? Ok, maybe peanut butter... Ooh, I wonder if they would put peanut butter in it?! Now look what you've done. I'm going to have to go get another one! You people are making me gain weight. :)

Have you had one yet? No?! Go get one! Then get back here and tell me about your experience! Yes? Good for you! What did you think about it? Leave me a comment!

*Update: After writing this, I discovered they DO make a peanut butter version. So, of course, I had one. It was actually disappointing - the double fudge is the best, hands down!

Settling or Accepting? Think About It Thursday

Folks, I am aware that I have missed the past two Thursdays... I'm so sorry! Things have been super hectic and I have some new things on my plate (hopefully more about that later). I also got my days mixed up last week and didn't even realize it was Thursday until 11:30 that night!

Today's question is a tough one: 

What is the difference between settling for things, and accepting the way things are?

Looking back over life, I feel like maybe I have settled for some things when I could have asked for better, and that I have accepted some things that I should have rejected. I think the key word here is change. Can I change this situation?

When we "settle" for something, we are saying, "I know this situation could be better, but I'm too lazy/afraid/unconfident to change it, so I'm just going to take it the way it is." To put a finer point on it, it's apathy. We don't care enough to put our foot down, so we deal with it. Which can be fine in certain settings, but should never be tolerated in relationships or moral choices that we have control over. Don't settle for less... Keep the standard as high as you want it to be, and stick to it. 

On the other hand, accepting things generally means we don't have a choice. There is something out of our control, and we can either take it or leave it, but if we accept it, we have to realize it is what it is. And once we realize those boundaries, we can begin to work with them and even learn to appreciate them, or how to at least tolerate them. When you accept something,  it generally means that you realize the benefits of the bigger picture outweigh the limitations.  

What things in life have you learned to accept, and what things are you just settling for that you could change?

Asparagus Stromboli Recipe

I decided to experiment for dinner and made this yummy asparagus stromboli - this was super easy, and could be the springboard for tons of different variations. I think it would be yummy with prosciutto or thin sliced turkey with the asparagus, and everything can be improved with onions, garlic, and peppers! I just didn't happen to have them on hand tonight. 

First off, I followed this recipe for making asparagus a few nights ago:

(From Ella Claire)

We had leftovers, and I didn't want to see them go to waste, so I made up the Fifteen Minute Pizza Crust, and got to work. Roll out the dough to completely cover a cookie sheet, then spread thinly with cream cheese and herbs. Place your asparagus (I had about 1/2 a pound) in the center third of the dough, and then sprinkle with shredded mozzarella or colby jack cheese. Cut the sides of your dough to look like this:

(from kirsten787 on Photobucket)

Fold up, alternating strips to create a braided look, and tuck in the ends. Bake at 425F for 15-20 minutes. Cool, then cut into strips and serve with ranch dressing or spaghetti sauce. Enjoy!

Meet Calvin

We just went into the pet store for dog food...

I've always had a soft place in my heart for rats since I was eleven and was convinced to buy one by the Petco associate. It was the best pet I have ever had. Her name was Flower, and after three years she was followed by Galadriel. When we moved to the Big Woods, I sold all of my small furry friends and said my goodbyes. 

Last year, the local pet store move to a new facility that is easier to get to, and we've been frequent visitors to hold the animals and buy dog food. While I was in there today, the store owner's daughter told me that I could have this sweet black and white hooded rat because she just couldn't bear the thought of him becoming snake food, and that was most likely going to be his fate. How could anyone refuse? 

I've named him Calvin, and he is such a sweetie! He sat on my shoulder and supervised me folded laundry today, then he fell asleep in my lap while Mom arranged his cage. Now, I'm watching him run on a bright yellow wheel and search through his food bowl for the best treats. 

Most people think rats are gross, but once you've had one as a pet, you never see them in the same light. They are sweet-tempered, intelligent, cuddly, clean, social, and very laid back. They are always on the alert for a treat or a ride on your shoulder, and their little eyes sparkle with curiosity. Can you tell how much I love them? It's good to have a furry friend of my own again.

Want to see more pictures? Check out the album here!

Chicken and Veggies Over Couscous (Healthy Eating Series)

Chicken and Veggies Over Couscous

This was so good! I used pre-cut, pre-cooked chicken, so this meal was a snap to prepare. In a saute pan, put a tablespoon or so of oil and throw in chopped onions and red bell pepper. Cook at medium until they are just getting soft, then add in thin slices of zucchini. While the zucchini is cooking, make the couscous according to the box directions (if it's plain, throw in some crushed garlic, poultry seasoning, and cumin). Once your zucchini looks like it's nearly done, throw in your cooked chicken and cook until it's all hot. Scoop the chicken and veggies over a bed of couscous, and serve with fresh tomato and avocado - the avocado tastes especially delicious with the cooked chicken. For this meal, I was feeding three light eaters, so I used half of a zucchini, 1C cooked couscous, 1 C cooked shredded chicken, half a bell pepper, half an onion, half an avocado, and one roma tomato. Enjoy!