Enough?

Something I shared with an amazing group of gals a few weeks ago...

Good morning ladies. My name is Sarah. I grew up in Grand Forks, ND which is just on the other side of the border. I lived there my entire life until I moved here with my husband for his pediatric residency in the summer of 2009.  I am  possibly the only woman in this room who was ecstatic to find out I was moving to Rochester, MN. It’s bigger, hillier, and warmer than my home town. I know some of y’all are from the south and may have found your first winter here to be a bit on the chilly side, perhaps even unbearable, but the winters I’ve experienced here have been the warmest winters I have ever known. You first year gals don’t know what I’m referring to when I say people think the winters here are chilly because this winter has been tropical in my opinion, but if you stay here for any length of time you will have a better understanding of what the word cold means. I’d also like to add that when we moved here I was pleasantly surprised to see how hilly it is. I know some of you think it’s flat, but it’s not. You haven’t seen flat until you’ve been to the Red River Valley. The only hills in my hometown are 2 man-made overpasses.  I know I’m nearly back home when can see the sign at the local truck stop from 5 miles away.

My husband Jeff and I were set up during his 2nd year of medical school through mutual friends. They thought we would hit it off. When we first met I told my mom that Jeff was really nice and funny but that he was a little bit of a nerd to which she replied “Well you’re a nerd too, Sarah.” I guess that made us a  match because we got engaged 6 months later. Now we have been married for nearly 4 years and we have a fun-loving 18 month old named Benjamin and a little brother or sister in the making.

I grew up in a Christian home. My folks became believers a few years after they got married and taught all 4 kids in my family about God and His Love for us. I asked Jesus into my heart when I was 7 years old.  I grew up going to church, Sunday school, AWANA, Bible Camp, participating in worship team and so on.  I was a good girl and I didn’t give my parents much grief. My single act of rebellion was getting a third piercing in my left ear when I was 18 years old. I’m not sure if my “good girl” lifestyle is a result of learning from others’ mistakes or the Holy Spirit keeping me under His wing. Probably a combination of both. That’s not to say I haven’t struggled through life here and there….it’s just that I haven’t landed myself in jail, at least not yet. I used to think that my testimony wasn’t dramatic enough to be powerful until my old pastor helped me understand the power of my testimony  is in that the Lord has been protecting me from a life of darkness from that tender, little age when I first decided to follow Him. I like that.

My parents did a really good job of teaching me where my worth comes from….it comes from the Lord. I know that. But there is a vast difference between knowing something and believing something. And there have been many times in my life when I’ve questioned my worth, wondering whether or not I was enough. I think it’s human nature to be concerned with how we measure up against the world. When I was young I remember constantly comparing myself to my big sisters. They were pretty and talented and everybody told me so. As I got older I learned to compare myself to my friends. Some were more popular (well really most of them were), some were more intelligent, some were funnier (I know, hard to imagine, right?). Then I became a grown-up and got out in to the real world where I measured my success in my career against that of my colleagues. They worked longer hours. They were more respected and if you know me at all you won‘t be surprised when I tell you they were most definitely more mature. Then, at one time, I was an extremely overweight woman who had no trouble finding my external flaws every time I looked in the mirror or turned the corner and saw another skinny girl. I was the girl who walked into a room and immediately knew she was the biggest person there. The girl who hid behind humor. The girl who was certain that nobody could ever fall in love with her. Then I became a skinny girl….a really skinny, athletic girl and I still wondered if I was enough. Skinny enough. Fast enough. Fit enough. And now I’m a stay-at-home wife and mom and even though my life is full, I still find myself measuring my value against the world around me. There are stories of babies sleeping through the night at 6 weeks old and moms who wore their pre-pregnancy clothing out of the hospital. Well Benjamin didn’t sleep through the night until he was 5 months old and I still can’t wear my clothes from before I was pregnant (never mind I‘m back in maternity pants now). And then there are the doubts that I’m not nurturing my family as well as other women are. This one’s kid doesn‘t pee down the air vents (yes, that really happened), and that one’s kid doesn’t throw tantrums.  Or there are thoughts that I’m some kind of homemaker when there are 7 pairs of shoes sitting in the entry way and I only cooked dinner for my husband 2 times last week and that it is not rare for my child to hand me dust bunnies that he finds about the house. I guess I should be thankful he’s not eating them, but you know what I’m getting at. There are the feelings of inadequacy when I realize that I’m supposed to be a grown woman, the wife of a professional, and I show up to gatherings wearing a hoodie, no make-up and no product in my hair while all of the other girls seem to be all done up and they look amazing in their cute clothes. So am I pretty enough? Smart enough? Funny enough? Successful, thin, nurturing, girly, yada, yada, yada enough? And here’s my conclusion. No. I am not. I am not enough. And yes, yes I am. I am enough. You see, according to the world’s standards I will never be enough. There will always be somebody who is more talented than I am. More successful, a more nurturing mother, a more attentive wife, and better at keeping their floors clean. But, thankfully, from the Lord’s perspective, I am enough….not because of who I am or anything I’ve done, but because He has made me “enough”.

2 Corinthians 5 says…“Not that we are adequate in ourselves to consider anything as coming from ourselves, but our adequacy is from God.”

God has made me in His image. He has rescued me from the miry clay. He has redeemed me. He knit me together. He sent His Son to die for me and then He drew me to Himself. He has a plan for me. If the Lord God Almighty has done all of this for me, then surely I must be enough. And this is why the Lord is reminding me to stop basing my worth, my substance, my very being on what I see in the mirror or in my laundry room. Because in His grace and mercy He has deemed me worthy of His love. Now this is not an excuse to ignore the dust bunnies or my family’s needs. I cannot simply say, “Hey, this is who I am and God loves me so deal with it.”

Colossians 3:23-24 says…“Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.”

I should do my best, be my best, as a gift to the Lord. But it is a relief to know that when I fall short of my expectations of myself or the standards I think the world has set for me I can take comfort in knowing that I am enough for the Creator of the universe, and that’s good enough for me.

There are so many passage in the Bible which illustrate that none of us are enough on our own, but through Christ’s redemptive power we are enough. Here’s on that spoke to me.

Ephesians 2:1-10
“And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience. Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest. But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been save), and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift if God, not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.”

Now I am reminding myself that God is enough as we prepare to head to Missouri this summer where Jeff will be completing a 3-year fellowship in neonatology. It will break my heart to leave my sweet friends and to be so far away from family, but I know that God has chosen this place for us for this time. Please pray that we will find a church and good Christian fellowship quickly, that I will be able to adjust to life in the big city, and for our growing family.

A lot can happen in 30 minutes.

Hug your daycare provider today. Seriously. You may not always be happy with every little detail of your child's day while he or she is being cared for by somebody other than you, but I can promise your childcare provider isn't happy with every little detail either.

I have been spending quite a bit of time working in the staff daycare at my church. It's an ideal situation really. I get to spend the entire day with Benjamin, I get out of the house and I make a little extra cashola for the family to boot. Generally I enjoy my time working childcare, but I will be the first to admit that almost everyday I am there provides a period of time, as brief as it may be, in which I find myself praying for strength or patience or to be teleported to another place entirely. Today was no exception.

The day was pretty busy off and on, but I was having a good time working with the kids. We read lots of stories, played kitchen, had snack, played in the gym, sang songs, read more stories, built towers, and the kids ate lunch. I sat down to start my lunch and made it about halfway through my Jimmy Johns sandwich when I realized it was just about nap time so I had better take a break from eating and get the kids ready. I was in the middle of changing diapers for naps when the sweet little baby I was caring for decided he was starting to get hungry. No problem, I thought. I'll just finish up this diaper change and start warming up his bottle. Then things got hairy. One of the older kids came up to me to say that one of the toddlers had wet through her clothes and it had gotten on his shirt. I quickly checked out the situation and determined that the toddler did not in fact wet through her clothes so much as she had another type of situation going on (you know what I mean). I called the office to get a new shirt for the older boy and decided that I had to take care of the blow-out situation right away before the mess got on anything else in the room. I could move on to getting the bottle ready for baby once I had cleaned everybody up. I won't describe the diaper situation any further except to simply say that while I was cleaning up the toddler the word "epic" came to mind. As I was trying to manage all of the mess and rock the hungry baby with my foot another toddler found my partially eaten Jimmy Johns sandwich on the table. Her interest overcame her and she climbed up onto the chair where I had been sitting and reached for it. Just as I was telling her "No, no," the sandwich slid out of her hands and onto the floor. There was shredded lettuce and tuna everywhere. I managed to help her off of the chair with one hand as I secured the child I was changing with the other hand. I moved as quickly as I could to get dirty clothes bagged, children cleaned and everybody dressed that needed to be dressed. Whew. Onto preparing baby's bottle. While warming the bottle I realized that we were 15 minutes past nap time and nobody was napping. I stopped rocking the baby for a few minutes as I got the little kids ready for nap. After rushing back to feed the baby I was somehow able to get the big kids situated for rest time. And then the chaos turned to calm while everybody happily rested and the baby ate.

This 30 minute window of time was just a small part of my day and the rest of the day went rather beautifully, but those 30 minutes were long and tiring and stressful and were a good reminder of why I'm glad I don't do daycare full-time. I worked hard for my money today, and I'd be willing to bet that your childcare provider did too, so give her a hug the next time you see her :)

Painted Love

Oh oh oh oh....
Painted Love
Oh oh oh oh....
Painted Love

Jeff and I have been painting lately....a lot. Getting the house ready for sale has been a big undertaking and has brought some stress and quite a few laughs. One of our biggest laughs came when my parents were visiting. Jeff and dad painted most of the weekend and were able to get the basement, bathroom and spare room done. My loving husband painted a little something extra. I bopped in the room where Jeff was painting to talk to him quickly about something. As I was leaving the room he leaned over to give me a quick kiss. Sweet, right? Yes. But also messy as it turns out. Unfortunately Jeff's paint tray was in the way and just before he was able to give me a peck he accidentally bumped into it. I saw it slowly fall from it's perch on the dresser. The paint-filled tray then hit the floor and it's contents were promptly thrown up into the air and onto the walls, the floor, the dresser....and me. We spent a bit of time cleaning up the room and my clothes all while having a good laugh. Once the clean up was done I went back for my kiss :)

How to get the most out of your dining experience

Benjamin loves, loves, loves his food. We know this because each snack and meal is accompanied by a steady stream of "Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm" as he eats each little morsel. Anybody who has shared a meal with him can confirm this. Tonight at dinner Benjamin went a little nutzo over his peas. He gobbled up his hard-boiled and his carrots in the usual way.

Then he started in on the peas. First with the spoon. Not efficient enough. Then with his hands. Not fast enough.

Benjamin then got down to business and determined the most undemanding and delicious way to consume his peas was to drink them.

He was delighted with this new method and continued to use it until the contents of his bowl were emptied into his mouth...and his bib....and his chair....and the floor where Osa was also able to enjoy them.

But no peas were wasted as Benjamin carefully plucked the peas from his bib pocket and gracefully ate every last one (as pictured below).

Mealtimes at our house are often quite entertaining.

Bonding over Mac 'n Cheese

I just love my girlfriends. I love how babysitting turns into a play date and play dates turn into lunch together. There's really nothing like bonding over a giant pot of Mac 'n Cheese and the sounds of our children romping around the house. It's so much fun watching our babies play together, taking turns feeding the dog Goldfish crackers, stealing sippy cups from each other and learning to share toys....or not sometimes. And it's even more fun having girl time with my sweet friends, especially when our conversations turn into a confessional and we end up spilling the beans about the worst things we've done as mothers or wives....or when we can laugh over stories about our children....or when we can share our hearts and worries and encourage one another. I am so blessed to know such wonderful women and their little sweethearts.

How to properly eat a quesadilla....and sour cream.

Benjamin has recently discovered the joy of dipping his food in sauces and soups and all kinds of things. It started with a peanut butter sandwich and the leftover juice from his fruit cup. He then graduated to the ever popular grilled cheese and tomato soup combo followed by my personal favorite, chicken strips and honey. Last night we had quesadillas for dinner and I had a feeling Ben just might enjoy dipping is Mexican triangles in some sour cream. Call it mother's intuition. He loved it. Turns out he also took great pleasure in dipping his fist in the sour cream. Let's just say we're still working on table manners....

 

Post office woes

I remember one time, before I had Benjamin, I overheard a couple of young women in the checkout line at Target. There was a baby a few aisles over who was crying and his mother was trying to comfort him. She was unable to quiet him, but it really was not a disruption to my shopping trip. The girls behind me, however, complained , "Why would you bring a baby to Target". So ridiculous. It's not like the child was throwing a full-fledged tantrum or like the mother was doing nothing about it. I remember thinking that there just might come a day when those girls have a 3 month old child who cries at the store or the restaurant or the auto shop. Well, I hope those girls weren't at the post office the other day because if they were they would have had plenty to mumble about.

If you have been to the post office at any point the week prior to Christmas, you know that there are long lines and perhaps a few crabby people. I usually try to avoid such places when I'm lugging around my bundle of energy and squeals, but this week I could not, at least not if I wanted our mail to get delivered in time for Christmas. Benjamin is such a good, happy little boy that sometimes I try to get by with doing things like taking him to a busy post office right before his nap time. Every once in a while I'm reminded that even good little boys have their limits. Here's how it went down....I hauled Ben out of the car, carrying him and pushing the stroller which I planned to set him in once we got inside from the cold. We managed to make our way through the doors and the lines were crazy, of course. I promptly set down my bag and packages and put Benjamin in his stroller....well I tried to put him in his stroller. He did that thing that toddlers do when they don't want to sit, or lay, or stand up for you. You know. The thing where they screech, arch their back, throw their arms directly above their heads and become dead weight. That thing. I tried again. He arched again. The line moved. I picked up my things, moved the stroller and followed our place in line. I gave him a toy and tried to set him in the stroller again. Same thing. Line moved. We moved. I gave him a snack and tried again. Well, you know what he did. By this point I was sweating in my down coat and we had collected a bit of an audience. I'm sure some people were chuckling and some were rolling their eyes. I would normally remove my cranky kid from situations like this, but hello, Christmas packages will not be delivered before Christmas if they are not sent before Christmas. So I held Ben....all 24 pounds of him. I held him, stood in line forever, pushed the stroller around, operated the post office kiosk and fed Benjamin snacks with my free hand. By the time we were finished it was nap time for both of us. Not my easiest errand of the week, but I prevailed and got a bit of a workout. I hope our audience was amused.

Most wonderful time of the year.

 

Benjamin spends time each day "reading" Christmas cards

I love, love, love Christmastime. I love the snow (even though we haven't had much of that this year). I love the sweets, the pretty paper, the lights, giving gifts and spending time with family and friends. I love watching Benjamin gaze at the Christmas tree in wonder and pour over our basket of Christmas cards. And I love that the reason that we participate in all of our Christmas traditions is to celebrate that unto us a Savior was born. I just want to sing my little heart out every time a hear a carol that tells of the birth of Jesus. There is joy in my heart as I think about the gift God has given to us....the most wonderful gift that I have ever received.

Merry Christmas!

Shortcuts are not always shortcuts.

I have had a little bit more going on this week than I typically do with a handful of sub jobs and several other obligations. As a result I got a little behind on my house work and have been trying to play catch up the past couple of days. I seriously don't know how working moms keep up with everything on a regular basis. Anyway, I usually wait until Benjamin is sleeping to take care of some jobs like cleaning the bathroom or the floors, but when I realized that he was completely enthralled with depositing Cheerios into a bowl, dumping them on his tray, depositing and dumping over and over again, I decided to take advantage of the fact that he was confined to his chair by sweeping and mopping the house....it's been driving me crazy.

He was such a little sweetheart and playing so nicely while I swept and mopped the kitchen and bathroom and dining/living room that I decided I would just finish the job by taking care of the stairs and entry way too. When I got there I realized that the sack of diapers I meant to throw away was still sitting on the steps but I didn't want to trod down the steps to throw it away because Benjamin was starting to get a little restless in his highchair. I determined that the most efficient way to finish my cleaning and take care of the diapers at the same time would be to drop the sack over the stair railing. I tossed the bag over the edge. POP! Oops. Oh well. The bag was headed for the trash outside anyway and I was saving at least 60 seconds. I figured the sack had just popped a bit and I wasn't too concerned about it. I continued to make my way down the stairs, quickly sweeping as I talked to Benjamin who continued to play with his bowl 'o Cheerios, although he was getting antsy. It wasn't until I got to the landing and turned the corner that I realized the pop was not the result of a hole in the diaper sack as much as it was diaper explosion. No time saved here. The bag had burst open completely and there were diapers everywhere. I'll spare you the disgusting details, but I will say it's a good thing I planned on mopping.

I used to tell my students who tried to take shortcuts on their work only to have to do it all over again that they should make an effort to do their best the first time around because they really weren't saving any time in the long run. Guess I should heed my own advice, even if it is over a dirty sack of diapers.

What's New

Our days are filled with activities, big and small. Here are a few of the things Benjamin has been up to lately. He is such a little ham. Please disregard my messy house and annoying commentary during videos. Thank you.

Peekaboo

Basketball

Climbing

How deep the Love

I am an emotional creature and can be moved to tears quite easily. I will cry because I'm happy just as often as I'll cry because I'm sad. My husband, Jeff, can attest to that. Don't get me wrong. I don't cry at Hallmark commercials or anything (not that there's anything wrong with that), but a sad movie or happy occasion will often get the better of me. There have been many times when I've been moved to tears by the love I feel for my husband. He'll say, "What's the matter? Are you okay?" and I'll sniffle back, "Yes, I just love you so much." Or sometimes when I'm watching Benjamin play or I'm rocking him before bed or listening to him babble as he walks around the house I get caught up in the joy that he brings to our lives. The love I have for Jeff and Benjamin runs deep, I cannot see an end to it.

This morning as I sang to Ben before his nap I was looking at his sweet face and stroking his soft, fine hair and thinking how blessed I am to have such an amazing husband and our precious son. My eyes welled up with tears and I was overwhelmed with the amount of love I feel for them both. In these moments I gain an understanding of how much my Father must love me. My God, the Creator of the universe and all of it's wonders, loves me even more than I could ever possibly love my husband and child in my limited human capacity. God's love for me, and all of His children, is beyond compare. When I give pause to it, His love baffles me. I cannot fathom it. It is immeasurable. So I will just bask in it.

How Deep the Father's Love for Us
http://youtu.be/1vmY2ztb5xc

Halloween: It's not about trick-or-treating....it's about survival.

I loved my job as a teacher, but there are a few days each school year when I'm glad I'm not running crowd control in the classroom. Today is one of those days. Also on the list are the day before Christmas vacation, Valentine's Day and the last day of school. I'm no scrooge (well, that's not entirely true), but something happens to children on these days and teachers don't get much teaching done because they are too busy herding little people about the school. The little sweethearts we know and love morph into wild-eyed, sugar-seeking, party-crazed wild things. It's true. Don't believe me? Ask any elementary teacher. Of course there are always exceptions to the rule. Some little darlings remain little darlings in spite of parties, full moons, fire drills, field trips, etc.. Nothing rattles their continence. But for a majority of youngsters self-control does not come quite so easily, especially on days like today. So this Halloween I am glad to be out of the classroom and happy to spend the day at home with my little goblin and our little goblin puppy. Best of luck, dear teachers.

How to make the most of a call night....if you're not the one on call.

Believe me when I say I would much, much rather spend a night at home with my husband than by myself. I know some women would love a quiet night home alone, and there are times when I find myself enjoying my alone time more than I anticipated I would, but I always prefer to have Jeff at home with me and Ben.  The novelty of eating what I want for dinner and watching what I want on TV or going wherever I want wore off after about his 4th night of call. But I have learned how to make the most Jeff's ridiculous work schedule because the alternative is, well, sitting around pining for my husband and waiting for life to go on when he gets home from work. Here's what I've come up with for a successful night alone:

1. Eat whatever you want. My go to meals are cereal or peanut butter toast.

2. Go someplace you enjoy. I like to go on Target runs.

3. Enjoy the outdoors. Today I took Osa and Ben for a nice afternoon walk.

4. Find a hobby. Currently mine is knitting. Scrapbooking, exercise and baking have also been favorites (although the whole exercise thing has sort of gone by the wayside now that my little buddy occupies most of my day).

5. Make plans with a friend in the same boat every so often. Misery love company :)

6. Go on a field trip to the hospital...if it's not too hectic at work for your spouse that is. Before Benjamin came along I used to love visiting Jeff at work, especially if we could meet during dinner. Eating alone for every meal during the day can get a little old. It broke the day up for me, and for him too I think. Now that I have my little guy tagging along with me we make our visit between dinnertime and bedtime. Benjamin lights up when we visit his daddy and Jeff always jumps right in to give him some attention.

7. Boot up Netflix or Hulu and stay up late watching shows, some ridiculous perhaps, that your spouse may not enjoy as much as you do.

8. Turn the heat to whatever temperature you like. I've got my thermostat set about 4 degrees higher than we have it when Jeff is home and the electric blanket is set on high. Cozy.

9. Do something nice for your spouse. I know that if I were putting in 30 hour days (how is that even possible?) I would feel so loved by anything my husband did on my behalf. It doesn't have to be anything big....perhaps baking their favorite cookies, putting away their laundry or mowing the lawn...and they don't even have to notice that you've done it. It just feels good to know that you have loved them while they were gone.

10. Lastly, don't despise your spouse's work or long hours no matter how easy those feelings may come. Remember that part of the reason that you admire your spouse is because of their drive and passion for their work. Don't take their absence personally. I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that most people who work 30 hour shifts would much prefer a 9-5 schedule. I have to remind myself that Jeff's not choosing to work crazy hours. His career demands it, but he loves his career so it's worth it. It makes me happy to know that.

There you have it. Now have a nice, quiet night alone because tomorrow night you'll be cooking dinner and watching an action movie.

Copycat....or dog.

Benjamin loves, loves, loves his puppy. He likes to greet her in the morning with some pets and hugs. He enjoys digging and splashing in her doggy dishes. Osa and Ben entertain one another with games of Tug O' War and Follow the Leader...and by follow the leader I mean Benjamin follows Osa around the house while she tries to find a quiet spot away from him or Osa follows Benjamin around the house while he eats his snacks. These two are becoming best little buddies and I get such a kick out of watching them together each day. Well I'm afraid that Benjamin may admire Osa a little too much. He seems to do things just the way that she does them. For instance I've seen him laying on her doggy bed, climbing in her kennel, ringing her doggy bell, trying to eat her food and so on. Yesterday he picked up a new little habit of hers...eating off of the floor. Now my child has eaten things off of the floor before. Don't judge me. You know that your kids have too, and if you don't have kids yet they'll do the same thing one day. But when I say eating off the floor I don't just mean picking food up and putting it in his mouth. No, no. That would be a normal toddler behavior in my opinion. I mean that Benjamin dropped his Kix on the floor, got on his hands and knees, and then proceeded to put his little face to the floor until he was close enough to pick the cereal up with his mouth....just like Osa. Next thing I know he'll be scratching at his ears with his feet. Let's just hope he doesn't take to greeting his friends with a friendly sniff, if you know what I mean.

*Photo from about a year ago when Ben was just 6 weeks old.

Grandma's pumpkin cookies

One of my favorite things about fall is heating up the oven to whip up some baked goods and take the chill out of the house. I suppose I turn the oven to bake and 375* a little more often then I should, but I can't help myself sometimes. Today I made up one of my favorite recipes from my sweet Grandma R. If you haven't had your fill of pumpkin goodies this fall and your house feels chilly, these cookies may do the trick.

Grandma R's pumpkin cookies
1 cup pumpkin
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup shortening
1 cup dates (optional)
nuts (optional)
1 tsp vanilla
1tsp soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
2 cups flour

Cream shortening and sugar together. Add pumpkin and vanilla. Mix well. In a separate bowl mix dry ingredients. Combine both mixtures. Stir in dates and nuts if desired (I prefer adding dates and nuts, but the cookies are good without too).

Bake @375 for 8 minutes

Icing
2 cups powdered sugar
pinch of salt
1 tsp vanilla
2 tablespoons butter
hot water (until desired thickness)

Pumpkin dip for apples

We have great neighbors. Seriously. Great neighbors. And not just one household of nice people, but several. They're the kind of neighbors that bring rhubarb and tomatoes, that shovel the sidewalk and take down garbage cans when you're out of town, and that give friendly hellos and conversation when you're out in the yard. Our neighborhood is one of the things that I'm going to miss when we move next summer.

One of our sweet neighbors brought us a treat last weekend....apples and pumpkin dip. It was so simple but so, so good. Of course it helps that the apples they brought us were honeycrisp and came straight from an orchard, but the dip was really good too. I've already made up another batch for the apples we picked up at the orchard the other day. If you like pumpkin flavored goodies try this dip. It's great with apples, but I think it would be yummy with cinnamon chips or graham crackers or as frosting.

1 8oz container Cool Whip
1 can pumpkin
1 package vanilla pudding (unprepared)
1 tablespoon pumpkin pie spice
*Whip together until fluffy

A knight, a princess and a dragon.

A few of Jeff's coworkers hosted a pre-Halloween Halloween party with some really yummy food including butternut squash bisque and pumpkin monkey bread. The food was fabulous and the company was fun, especially since people were decked out in individual and family costumes. There was a pirate, and Star Wars family (princess Leah played by the father and Darth Vader by the mom = pretty darn funny) and many others. I already had a costume for Benjamin, purchased on clearance and with a coupon to boot last November. When the invitation said costumes encouraged we decided to have a little fun with it. I made Jeff a knight get-up out of felt, duct tape and foil candy wrappers and made my princess skirt with some pink tulle and some more pink tulle.

So here is my little family, my Happily Ever After. Jeff suggested that our back story should include him rescuing me from a terrible dragon only to find it had a baby dragon which we then took in for our very own. Pretty sweet, don't you think?

You know why they call them hard-boiled eggs?

I love deviled eggs. Love them. I hate making them, but only because of the peeling. I never know what's going to happen from one egg to the next. I peel one egg and it looks perfect. Then I peel another egg and it looks like garbage. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. Sometimes you get lucky and sometimes you don't. When I get lucky I think to myself, "Okay, I have to remember the exact circumstances under which this egg was cooked/cooled/cracked/etc." Then I peel the next egg and realize that the first egg was just a little white and yellow miracle. So I usually end up boiling extra eggs and use the ugliest ones for egg salad while using the decent ones for their desired purpose. I feel like I've tried it all...cold water, warm water, baking soda, rolling, shaking, room temperature eggs, old eggs, cracking the shell all over, blowing, praying. Nothing seems to work, and that is why they call them hard-boiled eggs....because they are boiled but they are hard to peel. Since posting about my egg-peeling woes on Facebook I've received a few more tips. I have to admit that when I read the suggestions I may have scoffed a bit (sorry friends, you were sweet to offer help), but frankly I had already given up the cause. That is until my neighbor friend gave me the perfectly cooked and peel-able hard-boiled egg guarantee. So I put all of my eggs in one pot and gave it a shot and what do you know???? It worked! I peeled an egg, then another, then another until they were all peeled and in perfect condition. She has forever revolutionized my egg making.

Here's the secret. Steam your eggs. Get a basket steamer. Put some cold water in a pot. Place the eggs in the basket. Put a lid on it. Turn on the burner and set the timer for 18 minutes. Peel. Done.

Now give me some candy...

Have you ever seen Adam Sandler's cheap Halloween costume idea sketch from Weekend Update on SNL?  I got a bucket on my head. I'm crazy bucket-head. Now give me some candy. I have...thankfully.

Benjamin is not the easiest child during diaper changes. Ever since he started crawling you just never know what you're going to get on that changing table. Sometimes he lays nicely and is just the most perfect little boy. Other times he turns into this freakishly strong Hulk of a toddler who flips around in the blink of an eye. I'm not exactly sure how a 23 pound person can out-maneuver and strong-arm a (I'm not disclosing my weight) grown woman, but somehow Benjamin manages to muster enough strength and speed to make diaper changes last for what seems like an eternity. By the end of those changes we are both in a sweat and we both need a hug. Jeff and I have discovered a few tricks that involve singing, dancing, zerberts and so on (this is where I came up with "What's New Poopy Pants" ala Tom Jones). It's like the Cooper comedy hour every time we go to the changing table. Most of the time we can find something to distract Benjamin or entertain him for the duration, but every once in a while he tires of our usual tricks and we have to think up something new in a hurry.

About a week ago I was trying to change Ben's diaper. I say trying because we were mostly just wrestling one another. In a moment of desperation I grabbed a bottle of lotion that was nearby, put it atop my head and said in my most animated bucket-head voice, "I've got a bottle on my head. I'm crazy bottle-head lady. Now give me some candy." Ben laughed. I did it again and he laughed harder. And so I continued to come up with variations as I changed his diaper and all the while he laid perfectly still, smiling and giggling. So now every time I change him I come up with as many cheap Halloween costumes as I can. Usually Benjamin provides me with a few ideas.

I've got a sock for a hand. I'm crazy sock-hand. Now give me some candy.

I've got a diaper on my booty. I'm crazy diaper-booty. Now give me some candy.

I've got some snot on my face. I'm crazy snot-face man. Now give me some candy.

I just can't wait to see how people respond to our little act the next time I have to change a diaper in the Target restroom. "I've got a paper towel for a face. I'm crazy paper towel-face. Now give me some candy."

We're calling it.

We have a walker. Ben took his first step just a little over a week ago. This was him last night. All night. All over the house. Forget about crawling. That was so yesterday...literally.

The Haircut.

Today was the day. I finally worked up the courage to cut Benjamin's hair. I almost hated to do it because the poor guy doesn't have much and it is so very fine. He's been working on growing the little bit of hair that he does have for well over a year now. It felt a little wrong to cut off any of it, but it had to be done. Every time he was out in the wind his comb-over became quite evident and it seems to me that comb-overs, even atop the cutest of babies, are just wrong.

Here is a before picture. As you can see Benjamin had sort of let himself go.

Here are the essential haircut items I used. 

And the final result....a happy customer.

The haircut turned out fine (I think - we shall see what Ben's hair styling auntie has to say about that), and the $10 shears I purchased have already paid for themselves. Now it's time to play!

What died in here?

Off and on for the past week or so Jeff and I have been grossed out by the smell of our family car. Some days we'd get in and wouldn't notice anything. Other days we'd accuse each other of, well you know, fluffing in the car. But the odor came and went, came and went several times over. We thought perhaps it was from the banana that was accidentally smooshed into the floor mat or that we had left a dirty diaper in the back from our camping trip (we used the back of the Rav for a few diaper changes....classy, I know). Then today, after some thought and investigation I came to the realization that I was at fault for the foul smells that we smelled. You see, I take Benjamin and Osa for a walk most mornings and most mornings Osa does a little jobby (I know, I've been writing a lot about puppy and baby potty happenings lately...welcome to my world). Well after Osa is done with her job, I pick up after her, as all good citizens should do. I use thick plastic odor resistant bags, tie them up and look for the nearest garbage can which happens to be the one located by our garage most days. Apparently I had forgotten to toss Osa's bag of stuff when we got home and left it in the basket located in the undercarriage of the stroller. Don't judge me because I put poo-poo in my child's stroller....it's in a sealed bag for goodness sake and it's not like I make Benjamin ride down there. I'm not sure just how long that particular bag sat in the stroller, but the stroller was loaded and unloaded from the back of the car several times which is why the aroma came and went, came and went. So there you have it. It was my fault, but now that the bag has been tossed I can go back to blaming Ben and Jeff for any other suspicious scents that may arise.

Kids these days...

Hope somebody teaches this kid some manners before he goes to Kindergarten...

How an undiapered baby can find a new use for an air vent...

Well Benjamin has had a bit of a diaper rash this week, and by the looks of most of his diapers I can't say I'm surprised. Not sure if he's having trouble because he's switching to cow's milk or because he is teething, but things have been busy at his changing table. The other night we decided to let Ben roam the house, how shall I say this, uninhibited to give his skin a chance dry out. He was out there and loving every minute of it. Up and down the hallway with his walker he went. I'm not exactly sure how long he went about the house in his birthday suit, but it was for quite some time because I remember thinking that he should probably get his diaper back on before he used the floor as his own personal toilet. It was not too long after that thought crossed my mind that I heard Jeff say something about going potty. Sure enough, Benjamin had crawled over to our picture window, stood up to give the neighbors a show, and proceeded to tinkle into the air vent. Fantastic. Pretty good aim for a one-year-old, I will give him that. I just hope that we aren't reminded of his little exhibition every time we turn on the heat and the warm air blasts through the aforementioned potty vent.

Doggy Duties

Osa, Osa, Osa. I love my puppy, quirks and all. She's darling and she brings a lot of joy to our house. I find some of her behaviors very amusing....

...the way she rings her bell to go outside only to turn right around and come back inside the house for a treat

...how she shakes with excitement when she sees a squirrel in the grass out back and then charges him at just the right moment

...when she goes crazy running circles in the backyard or on the carpet in the basement

...her digger-dog ritual where she goes into her kennel and digs her little heart out when she's frustrated

But one of her little quirks, although quite amusing, has entered the realm of totally ridiculous. Osa is very particular about where she does her job during our walks...you know, the big job. I don't know what exactly she is looking or sniffing for, but it has to be a matter of great importance the way she approaches it. Walk, sniff, walk, circle, sniff, walk, walk, walk, sniff, sniff, circle, walk, sniff. I'm sorry to even be bringing this  subject up (not really), but just the other day she was so insistent on finding the most perfect place for her duties that she frantically walked and circled and sniffed for a good 3 blocks before she finally, you know, made her deposit. No kidding. THREE blocks! Now I know that dogs like to find just the right place for these kinds of things, and I can't really blame them. I suppose it's akin to using an outhouse versus your own personal bathroom. But really, Osa, don't you think you're being a little bit of a princess? Three blocks of grass before you were able to find a spot that was good enough for your stuff? I hate to break it to you, pup, but your poo is just not that special. Any spot will do for your doo-doo.

Oh, I see how it is.

I will probably regret it, but I'm going to give Benjamin his first haircut...at home...without the help of a trained professional. Yes, I am one of those mothers who is going to try to save a buck at the expense of my child's hair. I figure Benjamin was nearly bald for a good portion of his life, so even a bad haircut would leave him with more hair than he'll know what to do with. I'll try to trim just a little at a time so that if it looks really terrible I can still bring him in to the salon and have them fix it. I'm sure it will be fine. I do have some experience in this arena. I cut my bangs and the dog's hair too and I've only messed those jobs up a few times. Osa never seemed to have much psychological damage from the experience, so I'm sure Ben would handle a bad haircut just as well.

I'm on the hunt for some scissors now. Even though I'm not a pro, I've decided not to use the scissors from the junk drawer for Ben's haircut. I can be pretty cheap, but it seems wrong to use the same scissors that cut out boxtops for his hair so I stopped by a beauty supply store this morning. I unloaded Benjamin from his car seat and lugged him into the shop. When I walked up to the front counter there were 3 girls standing behind it, all dressed in cute clothes, all made up. I did not receive a smile or a hello or a "how can I help you?" from any of them. I decided to start the whole customer service exchange by saying, "I'd like to buy some shears. Could you help me find some?" to which one girl replied, "We're wholesale and we only sell to licensed cosmetologists and stylists." How did she know that I wasn't?!?!? I used the word shears for crying out loud. That doesn't sound like the kind of word a licensed professional would use? So how could she assume that I was not? Oh, I see how it is. Yeah, okay, so I hadn't showered, my hair was in a pony and there was no make-up on my face...my baby's nose was running and I'm pretty sure he had just rubbed it on my shirt when I got him out of the car, but there's no way she could have definitively known that I wasn't a licensed professional. I simply held my head high and asked, "Do you know of a place in town where I could purchase shears (yep, I used it again)?" She looked down her nose at me as she muttered the name "Sally's". She said it with such disdain it's as if  the name left a bad taste in her mouth. "Thanks for your time," I replied as I walked out the door. And thanks for the tip. I will go to Sally's. I will go to Sally's, the place that welcomes unkempt stay-at-home moms who are trying to save a buck. I will go to Sally's and spend my money there, and when my son is rockin' his super sweet new hairdo and everybody asks me where I bought my scissors I will say "Sally's" and they will all go there too. Deal with it.

Cake and candy and birthdays, oh my!

One of my great joys growing up was when my mom made my birthday cake. She had a cake pan in the shape of a doll. Each year my birthday cake was made to order. I got to choose what kind of candy I wanted for the doll's hair, eyes, nose, mouth, buttons, etc. It was always long licorice for her hair, sometimes black and sometimes red. Spice drops, red hots, jelly beans, skittles, and all sorts of other yummy goodies. I have the fondest memories of watching and helping my mom with the cake and eating it too. I'm not sure why the doll cake created such fun, but it did and when I had Benjamin I knew I'd want to start a fun birthday tradition for him too.I saw this cake pan when I was at a kitchen store with my sister-in-law and loved it immediately. It's no doll, but Ben's more of a train guy anyway. I put it on my Christmas wish list and his Grandma C got it for us. I've been eagerly anticipating making this cake for my sweet boy, so much so that I actually did a practice round today. Yes, I'm that girl. I'm the girl who is so excited about baking and decorating and celebrating my boy that I had to have a little pre-birthday trial run. It was such a blast to do just this little bit of the cake and I cannot wait to make the whole train for my big Ben's birthday. It's hard to believe that a year with my baby has come and gone already and we'll be celebrating his first birthday in just a few days. But believe or not here it comes. I have mixed emotions of excitement to celebrate Ben and sadness to realize that time with him is going more quickly than I'd like it too. The good news is all of his birthdays will come with built in comfort food...cake and candy. Oh my...

You know you're a scaredy cat when a movie preview keeps you up at night.

I don't even really like cats so I hate to compare myself to one, but there's really no other way to put it. I am a scaredy-cat. I do not like scary movies. Well really it's not so much that I don't like scary movies as much as they disturb me for days after watching them. I used to be able to watch any movie at any time of day and never be bothered (I once watched Silence of the Lambs by myself late at night). But now for some reason those movies get to me. They're just unsettling even though I realize that the chance that I'm going to encounter a serial killer or a vampire or any other such antagonist in my lifetime is small or even impossible. Doesn't matter though. They still bother me. So when Jeff and I watch a scary movie we have to plan accordingly. He has to be home for at least the next 2 nights and we have to start the movie early enough in the evening so that we can play a little Mario or something before going to sleep. We also have a deal going where he tells me when I should open and close my eyes. I'm sure most people would say I'm missing all the "good" parts doing this, but I'd rather close my eyes during the movie so that I can close my eyes when it's time to sleep. Ridiculous, I know, but I cannot help myself. I was not prepared for what happened tonight though. Unfortunately a preview for the movie Don't Be Afraid of the Dark came on while I was watching TV, alone, late, after dark. Jeff isn't here to tell me to close my eyes and he'll will be at the hospital all night and there's nobody to play Mario with before bed. And now the house is making creepy noises and every time I hear an acorn drop onto the roof it makes me jump. To make matters worse the movie title is sitting there on my brain, mocking me. Don't Be Afraid of the Dark. The thing is I wouldn't be afraid of the dark tonight if I hadn't seen the preview for Don't Be Afraid of the Dark. Stupid scary previews with stupid mocking titles.

So happy together!

Benjamin loves to see his daddy come home after a long shift. He hadn't seen Jeff for nearly 24 hours yesterday morning, but they shared some guy time before they both went down for a nap. Wrestling, racing and other shenanigans were all part of the fun. Benjamin really enjoys his new car that he got from Grandma and Grandpa B as an early birthday gift. He's been having a rip-roarin' good time with his new toy, especially when his daddy races him. He hasn't figured out how to ride it yet, but he has become very proficient at pushing it (a skill which will come in handy if he runs out of gas some day). He is working on making car noises now. Here are some videos of Ben's guy time with Jeff.

Busy racing Daddy...and falling over...and getting up to finish the race...


But not so busy that he couldn't stop to show off his latest skill of standing by himself...


And finally getting tuckered out...

Seriously mom, I'm almost one.

When Benjamin was first born up until about he was about 6 months old he was a very spitty baby. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I had to change his outfit 3-5 times a day, and I usually had to change mine more than once a day too. It was terrible. No burp cloth could contain this child's explosions. I don't want to be gross here but the words projectile and gushing come to mind. Then once he started solids his tummy seemed to settle down little by little until eventually (probably about a month or so ago) I no longer felt the need to have a burp cloth handy at all times. I can remember how excited I was the first time Ben was able to wear the same outfit for an entire day. It was wonderful to cut back on doing so much laundry and I was even more pleased with the fact that I didn't have to try to keep Ben or Osa from playing in the little pools spit-up that he deposited around the house. Life was a lot less messy, for a while anyway. Benjamin has recently decided that he no longer needs my help while eating. He's been eating finger foods for a time now, but just this past weekend he thought he should take over spoon duty and he's quite insistent that he feed himself all on his own. He practically lunges at his bowl and spoon during mealtimes. And don't even think about taking his spoon away. He suddenly cannot seem to let go of it. I thought I'd try to contain the mess and shorten mealtimes by giving him a spoon to experiment with while feeding him with another. He likes to have both spoons. When I take one back he squawks at me as if to say, "Seriously mom, I'm almost one. I'm not a baby anymore." Okay buddy, you're big boy, but look at you...don't you think you could use a little help? It's fun to watch him learn how to maneuver the spoon just so and to see him become a little boy. But I have to admit I wouldn't mind spoon feeding him a bit longer just so I wouldn't have to go back to mountains of baby, excuse me, little boy laundry. I'm having a hard time understanding how he manages to get the food all over his bumper and up his shorts while he eats his dinner. Oh well, he doesn't seem to mind the mess, and neither does Osa. She's never eaten so good.

If you forget about it, you can forget about it.

Recently I bought two beautiful zucchinis at a local market. I had plans to cook some up for Ben and to make bread out of the rest. I had lots of plans for lots of fruits and veggies that I picked up that week...peach sauce and applesauce for Ben, steamed veggies for a chicken dinner, etc. Since I had stocked up and had a lot of pealing, chopping, steaming to do I set the zucchini aside with plans to get to it the next day. Then we had company. Then Jeff had a few days off. Then I forgot. I forgot that I had put the zucchini on top of the fridge and had left them in a plastic bag. And I kept forgetting, until tonight that is. I saw that plastic bag on top of the fridge and I knew. I knew that my beautiful squash would no longer be usable. What I didn't realize was that when I lifted the bag down from the fridge my gag reflex would be activated by a bag of sloppy, soupy zucchini mush. It was seriously one of the most disgusting food disasters I have ever encountered. I'm assuming most of us have forgotten about a container of food in the fridge for a little too long or have had that loaf of bread that's been hanging around longer than we care to admit, but this was one of the more grotesque food dilemmas I have experienced. I'll spare you any further details about the appearance, transport and disposal of the zucchini mush, but I will give you this tidbit of knowledge. If you purchase zucchini, no matter how perfect, and you leave it in a plastic sack on top of the warm refrigerator and you forget about it, then you can forget about it. Gross.

Anti back to school days.

It was not so long ago that I dreaded these days...back to school. I'm not going to lie to you. I prefer not working over working, summer vacation over school days and generally not being responsible to anyone other than my family. It's not that I don't like teaching. I do. Teaching was a great fit for me. I got to spend time with children, and I like children. I was given an outlet for creativity through instruction. I worked with a great bunch of people (seriously great people - I can't even express how amazing my coworkers were). And truly it was fun watching kids learn, mature, and get excited about things like learning a new skill or a silly song or goofy game. Even though I liked my job I looked forward to summer vacation and hated to see it come to an end. I think most teachers experience the same thing. But there was a sense of excitement and fun at the beginning of the school year that I enjoyed. I always thought it was fun to reconnect with work buddies and get to know the kids and come up with new ideas for the classroom. Now that I'm not on the school scene anymore I feel a little nostalgic as I reminisce about how fun my job was. But not to worry. Those feelings will dissipate the next time I see a misbehaving child at the store.

Have you seen a baby lift weights? I have.

I'm always on the lookout for new toys. I think the reason is that we spend a lot of time at home, Benjamin and I, and you can only play with the same toys for so long before little eyes start to wander towards things like the stereo or the PS3 or the antique lamp. It always seems like new toys provide a little extra distraction for busy Ben and allow me to get a few things done around the house. They may even give me the opportunity to go to the bathroom or eat lunch. The other reason I like looking for new toys may or may not have something to do with the fact that I like to shop. People have been telling me that babies are just as happy playing with an empty box as they are playing with the expensive toy that came inside said box. I have found that to be true many times. Benjamin has played with and inside of his fair share of empty boxes. He's played with my pots and pans, empty food containers (today it was the Hershey's cocoa container that occupied Ben while I baked brownies), water bottles, and much, much more. But no matter what interesting little doodads I give to Benjamin he has a knack for getting into the things he's not supposed to. The other day it was my small hand weights. I hide them behind Osa's doggy bed. He found them. I hid them. He found them. I hid them. He found them. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. At first I didn't think he should have them since he might pinch a finger or something, but he is a persistent little thing, and I hate to admit it...he wore me down. I know. I know. It might just be hand weights today, but before I know it I'll be battling with him over homework and curfews and the like. Don't worry. I'm giving Benjamin his fair share of guidance and correction. I'm a teacher after all. There's plenty of control freakishness going on around this joint. Just ask my husband. Besides after seeing how much he loved playing with the weights, lifting them and pushing them around the floor, I decided it would make a pretty cute picture. And really, who am I to dissuade my child from healthful physical activity? Also, it kept him out of the no-no's for at least 10 minutes, and let's face it, 10 minutes is a lot of time in baby world.

How an innocent comment can bring out the junior high school boy in nearly every man.

Buns! Oh my goodness, you have not had a good bun until you have eaten one of these. I know that I should probably call them rolls in an effort to eliminate any confusion as to whether I am referencing buns or buns (you know what I mean). I think the original came from my grandma, but my dad has tweaked this amazing recipe for the rolls pictured above. Not kidding, the sweetest, softest, best rolls I have ever eaten. He shared the recipe with me and now I make them quite regularly for gatherings with friends or just for our daily bread. Every time I've made them they are gone in a flash. There was one particular time that our company enjoyed the rolls and a good laugh. During that meal everybody was saying how good the buns were and I went on and on saying things like "I know, my dad's buns are so soft" and "My dad has the best buns". I didn't even realize what I was saying until all of the guys starting giggling like a bunch of junior high school boys. By the time Jeff clued me in to what they were laughing at I had probably made at least a half dozen comments about my dad's buns...soft, fluffy, sweet, etc. Now that I know how juvenile males, even grown men, can be about "buns" I try to use more discretion when it comes to word choice. But the joke continues. Recently we had some friends over and Jeff was sure to tell them the story while I was out of the room and encouraged them to compliment me on my soft, fluffy buns. Oh well, I guess I'd rather have people joking about my buns than my rolls.

Daddy's Roll Recipe

Combine 2tsp dried yeast, 1/2 tsp sugar and 1/2 cup of warm water in a large glass. Set aside.

In a sauce pan heat 1/3 cup of shortening, 1 cup milk and 1 tbsp honey (my dad uses 2% milk but I've used skim and it works fine too). Heat to 180 degrees.

Meanwhile in a large bowl beat one egg. Add ie1 tsp salt and 1/3 cup sugar.

When the milk and honey mixture reaches 180 degrees add it to the egg mixture. Allow the contents to cool until the temperature has lowered to 80 degrees. Stir occasionally. For rapid cooling set bowl in cold water.

While this is cooling sift 4 1/2 cups of flour.

After the milk and egg mixture has cooled to the desired temperature add the yeast mixture and stir together. Then stir in all but 1/2 cup of the flour with a wooden spoon. You may have to use your hands to mix the dough well.

Knead the dough for about 7 minutes adding the reserved 1/2 cup of flour as you do so. The dough should not stick to your hands and should spring back after it has been properly kneaded. My dad does this by hand. I use my Kitchenaid mixer. You can find tips on YouTube for either method.

Grease a bowl. Place dough inside. Cover (I use a hand towel) and allow to rise for about 1 hour. Punch dough down to remove air. Allow to rise for another hour. Form dough into balls about the size of a golf ball (larger for hamburger buns) Place on greased cookie sheet. Allow to rise once more.

Preheat oven to 330-350 degrees (I do 330 because my oven bakes hot). Bake for about 12 minutes or until golden brown.

Enjoy and brag about your buns.

Don't say I didn't tell you.

Have you ever experienced the humiliation and pain of falling on a treadmill? I have. It's terrible. Yes, I'm that girl who wasn't paying attention to what she was doing because she was too busy watching TLC's "What Not To Wear" and tripped all because she was trying to learn how to be more fashionable. Running disaster. And if you saw what I wear most days you would also know that I'm no more fashionable as a result of my dedication to watching the television program either. Currently I am wearing sweats and a t-shirt but to my credit it is past 10pm. Anyway, I wasn't wearing the safety clip. I fell. It hurt. A lot. Then within one month's time the very same thing happened again. So I decided I should either clip myself to the safety key or I should run with knee pads and a helmet. I opted to wear the clip. In my defense I was running on one of those long-distance treadmills with treads on the belt and I'm pretty sure that's why I tripped...that, and perhaps a little clumsiness on my part.

Every time I go to the gym and hop on a treadmill this (see picture) is what I see. Does everybody wrap the safety clip around the handles like this? I have never seen anybody else use a clip. In fact, I have never seen a clip that looks as if it has been used. So each time I get ready for my run (although it's really more of a jog these days) I unwind the cord and attach it to my shorts. I'm sure it annoys the next runner and they probably wonder why anybody would use the safety clip. Obviously those people have never had the adventure of falling on a treadmill...twice.

Perhaps I am the only person above the age of 5 who has ever fallen or nearly fallen on a treadmill and perhaps I am the only one who ever will. But the clip is right there. I would use it if I were you. Then again, if I were you I probably wouldn't have fallen in the first place. If you were me, then you should DEFINITELY wear the clip. And if you choose not to use the clip, don't say I didn't tell you. And don't watch "What Not To Wear" when operating a treadmill either...or any heavy machinery for that matter.

Everything is temporary.

There are times when I think that residency is not so bad. This is not one of those times. I'm selfish about my time with my husband and I miss him terribly when he is gone night after night, working long shifts and catching on sleep during the day. It's times like these when I feel like residency is something I'm trying to endure, which may sound silly since I'm more of a spectator than a participant in this journey. But endure is indeed the word I am feeling.

He never shows it, but it must be tough on him too. I admire him. There is no way that I could do what he does. Obviously I'm not a doctor (I don't even play one on TV), so technically I couldn't do it anyway. But even if I had the degree and the knowledge and the ability to perform well under pressure I simply could not do it. I would not be able to function under the hours or the pressure or the gravity of it all. I try to remind myself of that when I'm feeling mopey about it. It gives me an appreciation for the challenges my husband conquers every day.

I let my imagination wander a bit today as I was tempted to craft a letter to the hospital asking if they could loan Jeff out to me and Benjamin or give him time off for good behavior. It's hard to see him go off to work every night and it's even more difficult to welcome him home only to realize he needs to sleep during the day. It's such a tease to know that he's home and down the hall and not be able to spend time together. During these rotations I miss eating dinner as a family, listening to Jeff and Benjamin play together, and cuddling on the couch to watch a movie after putting the baby to bed.

This is, of course, no tragedy and when compared to life's big picture my situation really is not that bad. In fact, it seems a little silly to make such a big deal about the woes of residency when I know full well that there is real suffering going on in the world around me. But in a small way it deepens my belief in this...it's temporary. Circumstances in life may be difficult or disappointing, even heart-wrenching. But they are temporary. Everything here on Earth is temporary. Something happens. You deal with it. You move on. It may last a very short time. It may last a very long time. But it will only be for a time.

So I will save myself $0.44 because I don't need to send that letter to the hospital. Benjamin and I will get to spend more time with Jeff next month, and I will treasure it because that will be temporary too!

High fives are still cool.

Today Benjamin spontaneously decided to start giving high fives. My folks were visiting for a few days and as he was giving them hugs and kisses goodbye he suddenly threw out his little hand and gave my mom a high five. Of course I realize that fist bumps and complicated hand shakes and such are allegedly cooler than Benjamin's new trick, but I grew up in an era where high fives were the thing to do. We also tight-rolled our jeans and teased our bangs until they stood 4 inches above our heads. I no longer subscribe to those trends, but this is different. So give your high fives as much as you like. I love watching you learn your new tricks and I think it's totally dope, little dude.

Please do not judge the cleanliness of my child based upon the carrots and broccoli that are covering him and the surrounding area. They have since been removed.

Watch out for the broccoli.

It's always good when you discover that something about your appearance may embarrass you before you go out in public (zipper down, lipstick on teeth, etc.). You may inwardly experience a little humility, but if the situation is contained and witnessed only by you then no harm done. That's why I was so glad that I discovered the broccoli that Benjamin deposited in my hair before I left the house. I'm not sure if he was trying to hide his food so he wouldn't have to finish it or if he was storing it for later consumption. Either way I'm still left wondering how it got there as Ben was sitting in his highchair and my head was a good 2 feet from his vegetable hands throughout the entire meal. Maybe he threw it at me when I wasn't looking. At any rate I would like to issue this general warning... If you serve a small child steamed broccoli and allow him to feed himself you may be finding little green bits of mush on more than just the highchair and surrounding surfaces (table, wall, floor, ceiling). Also be warned that the dog may not be interested in cleaning the food off of the floor in her usual way. Apparently steamed broccoli does not have the same appeal for dogs as other foods like turkey or lasagna. It would be a good idea to invest in a mop if you should find yourself feeding a small child such things. Now to work on converting the dog to a vegetarian lifestyle.

Puppies!

What is more fun than having a boy and a dog to entertain you? A boy and 2 dogs. My parents' little fluff of a dog was visiting for the weekend while my folks enjoyed an outdoor bluegrass festival to which no dogs are permitted. Apparently hillbillies and hippies can attend, but canines are out of the question. Benjamin had a wonderful time with two dogs in the house. He greeted both pups each morning, watching them stretch and getting good morning kisses from both of them. The dogs romped around quite a bit playing tug o' war and teasing one another and Benjamin couldn't get enough. He loved watching them tussle. If the dogs were doing anything other than laying down Benjamin was watching their every move. And when the puppies went outside he was ever watchful, not wanting to miss out on any of the excitement. Double the doggies, double the fun....at least for a few days anyway.

Yeah, I just did that.

My child cannot wait to walk and he will turn anything that isn't nailed to the floor into a walker so that he get from here to there. Dining room chairs, a box of diapers, his Leap Frog table, even the quilt rack have been victims of his creative use. When Benjamin manages to waddle his way around the house he gets pretty tickled with himself. Either he'll flash a big smile or a proud look. His most recent tool for getting around is the riding toy he got from his grandparents for his birthday. He is already getting so much use out of this early birthday gift that he may just wear it out before he turns 1. We're working on actually riding the riding toy, but in the meantime pushing it all over the house is lots of fun. I'm just hoping he doesn't try this out on the dog when I'm not looking.

I love the way he looks at the camera and nods when he finishes his walk. It's like he's saying, "Yeah, I just did that."

Shopping Spree

This morning I went "shopping" with a sweet friend and her little boy. We hit about a half a dozen garage sales and found some really great deals. I don't always have good luck when I look through other people's junk, but today was one of those days I could have scoured the town for hours because I was finding such great stuff. Unfortunately we had to stop our shopping spree because Benjamin was hungry and tired. Apparently he runs the show. If only he realized everything I was buying was for him (with the exception of one pair of gardening gloves)....he may have chewed on his fingers a bit longer to stave off the hunger. Regardless we made out pretty good.

Here's what we found:

6 board books
Fisher-Price Chatter Telephone
Fisher-Price Laugh & Learn Puppy
bag filled with clothes
toy lawnmower
gardening gloves

Total = $12.00!!!

Lots of inexpensive goodies and the company of a friend...money and time well spent!

You are a big deal to me!

For months I've been trying to teach Ben to clap. I've tried everything. Patty-cake, clapping celebrations for every little thing he does, clapping to music. He loves to watch me clap but never showed any interest in trying it himself. Then suddenly tonight as I was feeding him his dinner he spontaneously began clapping. He didn't even seem to realize that he was doing it until I made a big fuss about it. I cheered and clapped and laughed at him. It was then that Benjamin realized he had stumbled on to something big. Really big. He looked at me and clapped. He looked at Jeff and clapped. He looked at his hands and clapped. It was so sweet to see how proud he was of himself. It's funny how these little moments are such a big deal to parents (first smiles, rolling over, sitting, babbling, standing, clapping) when down the road the big deals will be made of up drivers licenses, graduations, first jobs and so much more. In the grand scheme of things these small activities that Benjamin is learning will seem so insignificant compared to the things he may do in the future. I still think it's amazing how this little person who was in my womb less than one year ago has already learned so much. So clap on little, man. You are a big deal to me!

My Precious

I've been offering Benjamin a sippy cup for some time now in hopes that he would one day discover how to drink from it. Up until today I was getting a little concerned that when the time came to ween him he would have a hard time adjusting. My bottle-battling boy resists taking milk from anything other than me and we are getting pretty close to his cut-off date. He likes it straight from the tap so I wondered what I would do with him if he wouldn't take a bottle AND he didn't know how to drink from his little cup. But today was the day. Benjamin suddenly discovered that if he didn't just bite the sippy cup he could actually get something out of it. What a relief. The best part of it all was that after he realized that he was drinking from the cup he couldn't get enough of it. He held onto it like Gollum and it was almost as if he was saying "My Precious" with his eyes. Okay buddy, I'm excited you figured it out, but let's not go overboard here, okay?