I want to run through the halls of my highschool . . .

I've been watching ABC's new show Once Upon a Time.  For the most part I've enjoyed it.  I like the fairy tale element, and am a true lover of a good fantasy story.  In one thing with this show I've been extremely dissapointed though, and it's been stewing in my mind for weeks now. What I wish to write about today, concerns the Prince Charmings. 

The basis of the show is how the evil witch who haunts Snow White, has moved all fairy tale characters to our modern world, where she can doom them to misery and dominate them.  There are flashback scenes in the fairy tale world, intermixed with scenes showing how our beloved characters, cursed with no memory of who they used to be, are dealing with modern times.  

In the beautiful fairy tale world, the Prince Charmings don't vary much from how we've always known them.  They are dashing, chivalrous, honorable, selfless, and kind.  Protecting the innocent and those who cannot help themselves, they are heros who bravely fight dragons, monsters, wicked soldiers and witches.  Always great leaders, their knights trust them and promise unfailing loyalty.  They are ferocious in battle, yet demonstrate softer sides where they adore their beautiful princess brides, even enough to wait until their wedding nights for intimacy.  They are family men who want to have children, and would die to protect anyone they love.      

The actors who play the prince charming characters are the same men in the "real world" settings.  However just as their outfits change, so do their characters.  They are just as dashing, but not half as honorable.  Cinderella's man is a son from a rich family, who has gotten her pregnant at 19, abandoned her, and allowed his father to make illegal adoption plans for the unborn child, against Ella's will.  Our prince stands idly by, only to make a last minute appearance in the hospital after poor Ella went through labor alone.  He oh-so-sweetly sits by Ella's side, and promises he'll never leave her again.  He doesn't even offer a better-late-than-never marriage proposal, but rather a pathetic promise reminiscent of most trashy dads who sire illegitimate children with teenage girls.  That hospital scene is set to sweet music, and illustrated as beautiful, possibly worth a glistening tear.

Snow White's prince is a little better, but not by much.  His story hasn't concluded, but it doesn't look too promising.  So far he has woken from a coma, and in his new life in our world, he's a married man suffering from amnesia, and falling in love with Snow White.  Did I mention Snow White is not his wife?  He still feels some connection with Snow though, and convinces her he has plans to leave his wife to be with her. Awwww.  Every mother's wish, right?  For her daughter to marry a man to who's broken his current home to start up again.  How sweet.  I'm sure this time his promises are sincere.  In case you can't read between the lines, I'm laying on the sarcasm pretty thick.  Snow White's prince does suddenly "remember" his past, and decides not to leave his wife after all - but not before he's given great heartache to both his wife and Snow White, leaving one confused and the other devastated.

These type of men do exist.  I'm not arguing the true-to-reality fact there.  My problem is these are the type of men we are painting as modern day prince charmings.  How sad.  How pathetic.  While the readers of my blog are probably the choir I'm preaching to, I feel I must put my voice out there, and proclaim that prince charmings of the fairy tale world exist.  They are real!  There are honorable men, in every way as wonderful as the men we read about in story books.  There are good men, with good hearts, living clean lives, who wish to provide and protect, who love kids, and will devote themselves to you and your family forever! It is not a fantasy!!

"The hunt" is a lesser known secret though- one I wish to reveal here.  These glorious men are not waiting in singles bars, or at the club.  You're not likely to simply run into a prince on the street either.  Good men are found in good places, doing good things.  They're at church, or serving as the volunteer coach on the soccer field, or helping out at a charity function.  Get involved in those kinds of things, and you'll run into them.  Live worthy of these men by livng lives similar to theirs, and they'll fall in love with you, and stay in love. 

John Mayer sings a song I laugh at, called No Such Thing.  Fans of his, forgive me, I don't hate the guy, just this particular song.  I think it's silly.  In the chorus he says:

I want to run through the halls of my highschool
I want to scream at the top of my lungs!
I just found out there's no such thing as the real world
It's just something they try to lie about.   

I laugh at this, because obviously for him there's no such thing as the "real world".  He's a successful rockstar!  Whatever reality he lives in has nothing to do with the world the rest of us experience.  Anyway, the song comes to mind here.  I too want to run through the halls of my highschool, and scream at the top of my lungs.  I want to yell to all the young girls there the amazing news that Prince Charmings are real!  They are real and waiting for women who are living like them.  So be like them!!!  Impress them, and be irrisitable by living honorable, chaste, sweet lives like the princesses in the stories.  Be smart, be kind, be clean, be honest, be involved, be positive, be true.  Live beautifully, and find yourself frequently in the places these great men are found.  They will see you there, and they will seek you out.  They will love you, and cherrish you, and will make you happy.  Did I mention they'll marry you before they love you too much?     

I can't physically run through my highschool's halls, the security guards would kick me out.  Consider this post my scream though, and pass this on to any woman searching.  If you're the one searching but feel you aren't currently living the life of a princess worthy of the men I described, then change!  Become worthy, and live your life so you can recognize a good prince when you see him.  Then go to the right places to seek him out.  Don't give up on your search until you do.  A good prince will fight for you, go do the same for him.  He's worth it.  Beleive me, I know.  I happen to be speaking from beautiful, wonderful, long lasting experience.   

menu, shopping list, plus some tips and tricks I've gathered in the last 7 years

My first semester in college and away from home, my mom emailed me her Thanksgiving menu and shopping list.  I thought that was so cool.  I have an exceptional mother.  I copy her a lot - hence this post.

Thanksgiving is my DH's very favorite holiday.  He spent last years' big day overseas with a bunch of dudes, not ideal, to say the least.  So the pressure is on to get it right for him this year!  He's gettin' the boys from church ready for some flag football, and then later no doubt he'll watch some games with Ben on TV, while I'm prepping up for some serious kitchen time.  I'm making my list, checking it twice, and the kiddos and I are making the trip to walmart after music lessons today!!  Wish me luck!  

The Florida Andrews Family 

Thanksgiving Day Menu

Oven Roasted Turkey with Stuffing

Mushroom Gravy

Dairy Free Mashed Potatoes

Candied Yams with Marshmallows

Baked Asparagus

Relish Tray

Oranged Cranberry Sauce

Crescent Rolls

Pumpkin Pie

Apple Pie

Lemon Meringue Pie

Sparkling Cider

The Shopping List

I read a few years ago a great tip for making your shopping lists.  The tip was to divide your list into four categories (I quarter my handwritten list by making a line down the middle top to bottom, and then one left to right).  The categories are Produce, Cold Items, Dry/Canned or Bottled Items, and Non-Food Items.  I simplify with Pro, Cold, Dry, and Non.  This has saved me so much time while shopping.  I don't have to do a lot of back and forth around the store while going through my list!  

So, thus categorized, here it is:

Pro

Oranges

2 lbs Cranberries 

baby carrots

celery

mushrooms

1 bag apples

2-3 lemons

asparagus

cherry tomatoes

Cold

orange juice

turkey

unsalted butter

Pillsbury crescent rolls

cream cheese

1 pre-made pie crust

heavy cream

whipped cream

egg nog

Dry

Sparkling Cider

Artichokes

baby dill pickles

baby sweet pickles

smoked oysters

hearts of palm

canned yams

graham cracker crumb pie crust

16 oz can pumpkin puree

dark brown sugar

turkey gravy packet

Stovetop stuffing mix

marshmallows

Non

candlesticks

dishwasher soap

Last year I discovered this recipe for Oranged Cranberry Sauce.  It's amazingly tasty.  It's a Jamaican recipe, and includes cinnamon.  It's my latest change to my evolving menu.  I'd also like to note that my dairy free mashed potatoes are my own recipe, and they're fabulous.  I bet if you did a blind test with mine and the dairy version, you wouldn't know which is which!

I still don't feel like I've mastered turkey roasting.  If you have tips to share, please pass them on!!  

I'll save a gratitude post for another time, but at the top of my list is having a husband home to cook for.  His favorite holiday just isn't as fun without him.  

Shining for the whole world to see . . .






 A good friend gave me this cute bib for Ben. 

Here's a few more glamour shots of our new little star shining brightly. 






Little blue chair for our little blue man. 






He loves his big sisters, and they're crazy about him!



How can we not adore this perfect little face?

our holistic classroom

It's 11:30 pm, and my baby is asleep.  I haven't had more than 4 consecutive hours of sleep in months now, and I'm beyond exhausted.  My limbs feel heavy, and my eyes have developed an unattractive puffiness.  Yet here I sit, typing away.  I actually don't want to go to bed right now.  I want to write, and share my thoughts with you.  Perhaps I'm too tired to make wise and healthy decisions.  Maybe I spend a little too much time at home sitting on my couch nursing and taking care of children, and this is my necessary window into the outside world.  Most likely it's a combination of both. 

As I wait for the photos from my new camera to load onto my computer, please allow me to ruminate about my slowly growing knowledge of the homeschool experience.  Some of you may know about my decision to keep Anny home for Kindergarten this year.  I haven't decided how long we will homeschool.  Circumstances are always changing- our location, our family size and situation, my patience level with my kids, their tolerance of me, the quality of local schools and teachers, and the list goes on.  Each year we'll reassess our situation, and decide.  This year the decision was to start at home. 

I like order, organization, and structure.  I have learned from experience that they are crucial to a successful school with classes of children.  I spent some time at a school that abandoned those things, and watched it fail miserably.  It was painful to teach there.  However to my surprise, in our little homeschool, I've found the opposite is true.  Structure, order and hours of lesson planning are not only unnecessary, but detrimental.  I don't need to teach that way, and shouldn't. 

I am enjoying a holistic style of education with my girls.  We don't have a schedule or cement routine.  We do a little math from a workbook, then bake cookies and talk about measurements.  Anny's sentence structure and handwriting practice can be in the form of a letter to Grandma, and her science lesson is with Daddy as they look up the weather radar of an approaching tropical storm.  The girls ask questions, and we stop what we're doing to explore the answers. I incorporate housework with studies whenever I can.  Merrylee and I can listen to Anny read while I'm on the couch nursing Ben.  Today I found a huge snail on our driveway, so we had a hands on, exploratory biology lesson.  Anny's long list of "why" questions don't detract from the lesson, they are the lesson.  We go with the flow, and it's wonderful. 

Don't worry, I'm not completely without structure.  I've looked up the FL core curriculum, and make long term goals, and order materials to align with them.  We have textbooks.  I got to choose them though, and I chose books that are interesting,and incorporate children's literature into the lessons.  They are tools though, and we set them aside to discuss and explore when it feels right.  My mom's advice as I started teaching was to relax.  If we're having a rough day, put the workbooks away and read a story, pop in an educational dvd, or better yet, leave the house and visit the playground.  She said to enjoy being together.  It has taken a bit out of me to abandon my training of order and intense planning.  I know my children though, so the adapting and tailor-fitting of lessons has been a surprisingly easy job.  The organization in a way was already there, it's just a little more instantaneous than planning for a group of 25 children from 25 different homes.   

Here are some pictures of some science adventures we've had.  We purchased Painted Lady caterpillars, and learned about their life cycle.  After watching them form chrysalises and miraculously emerge as butterflies, this week we set them free in our backyard.  There are also some photos of Dad helping the girls with a little turtle rescue experience.  He found this poor guy trapped by the fence in our backyard.  Dad held him so the girls could check him out, and they watched him walk in the yard a bit.  Then they put him in a tupperware with a little water, and walked about a half a mile to a nearby stream.  It's hard to see the stream in the pictures, but as soon as our little green friend heard that rushing water, he seemed to instinctively know he was home, and headed straight for it.  Dad had a very full Saturday, but he knows a good teaching opportunity when he sees one, and felt the yard work, college football, and prep for Sunday church meetings could wait.  I love that man.

Several hours have passed since I first sat down to write this entry.  I've now been interrupted by a coughing three-year old, a smiling and very awake, very cute baby boy, and a dime sized frog I caught hopping across the carpet. He's now climbing the side of an overturned glass I grabbed from the kitchen.  Can anyone guess what we'll be studying for science tomorrow?  Hey- he dared to enter my house, he suffers the consequences of study and observation by two pairs of curious little eyes before being set free.

Another sleepless night.  It looks like my puffy eyed look will continue, as does my busy, crazy, unorganized, unstructured, yet happy and full life.          

Look at Anny's skirt and you can see a butterfly that just flew out!

The turtle is just to the left of the bottom middle of the picture.

Be free little guy!

Meet the world's cutest little naturalists!

Pass the Hinny Minny's please!

All kids mispronounce things.  It's a part of speech development, and pretty cute.  Sometimes I think the way my girls have mispronounced certain words, are actually an improvement on them.  We've come to use the improved version in our everyday speech at home.  If you ever hear us use the improvements instead of the official word, I have provided the Andrews Sisters-English translation below, for your own personal reference.   

For your convenience, I've listed the words in alphabetical order. 

Binanan  (Banana)
Dusting Panner (Dust pan)
Hinny Minny's (Frosted Mini Wheats)
Hoopa-loop (Hula-hoop)
Lellow (Yellow)
Marshlellow (Marshmellow)

It's a short but cute list.  After all, we do have smart little girls who love to talk, so mispronunciations aren't in a great abundance.  I'm not actually convinced that's what these are, to be honest.  They're more like creative interpretations of the words.  Feel free to add them to your own vocabulary!

Now if you'll please excuse me, I need to go use the dusting panner to finish sweeping up the breakfast mess my girls made from marshlellow and Hinny Minny cereals.  I'd ask Anny to help me, but she's busy using her binanan lellow hoopa-loop.   

the Patience

The cute but seemingly clueless Italian admirer of Jennifer Lopez in The Wedding Planner gave her a surprising bit of wisdom that I found myself repeatedly quoting in my head tonight.  He said to her, "You need to learn the patience.  Sometimes love, is just love"

I'm not sure exactly what the "love is just love" part meant, but over and over I've been repeating in my head, "you need to learn the patience".

The phrase "parenthood requires patience" is sort of a burned out phrase.  We all hear it, and think, "well yes, of course it does."

However I always imagined that meant being patient when your toddler wakes up with nightmares, being patient when milk is spilled on the floor, patiently teaching your kids to clean up their toys, or not argue.  Those occasions do require patience, it's true, and yet they don't even begin to describe the word.

There are many "Patience is . . . . stories we all can tell about our kids.  Here's mine for tonight.

Patience is when your daughter is Reading Hop on Pop, and on every 8 word page, she pauses to analyze the picture for 30 seconds, reads the words, comments on the picture,"Look!  They're hopping on his tummy!!!  That's so silly!"
and then asks a question about it, with the expectation of a fully drawn out answer.

Anny:"Why are they hopping on their Dad?"
Me:"I don't know, to be silly I guess"
Anny: "Don't they know it can hurt?"
Me: "Maybe they didn't think about that"
Anny: "Why wouldn't they think about that?"
Me: "I'm not sure.  Maybe they're naughty kids"
Anny: "Why are they naughty kids?"
Me: "I don't know Anny, it's just a story"
Anny: "Don't they love their Daddy?  Jumping on him is not nice..."

At this point I have turned the page, looking at the remaining 30 or so pages left, and thinking over and over, "the patience, the patience, you need to learn the patience...."

I didn't start the book with this attitude.  I opened it with anticipation, thinking "I'm pretty sure she can read this, I love my daughter, she's so smart, this is going to be so fun hearing her read the bedtime story all by herself!"

On the first page as she scans the picture I think, "Look at her analyzing the scene, that's a sign of great reading comprehension, and something I should encourage!"

However by page 32, we've gone through a similar routine 32 times, varied occasionally by her fixing her hair for a minute, and then pausing to scratch her foot.  Then she'll begin again to analyze the picture, read the words, and have an in depth conversation about it.  If Merrylee interrupts her we sometimes get to go through the routine twice per page, because she gets distracted and feels she must begin again.  No need to remind her she's already scanned this picture, after all- this is a sign of great reading comprehension, and something I should encourage, right??? 

There are 64 pages in that book.

I love Dr. Seuss, but what was he thinking?!!!  Obviously he never had kids.  Ten pages would have been generous.

I could create an entire new blog dedicated to Patience is ... parenting moments.  Perhaps I could do one about how a short blog entry takes two hours to write because every five minutes my baby starts fussing and wants to be held, and typing with one hand is hard.

Sometimes being a mother is delightful, and blissfully sweet.

Sometimes blissfully sweet takes too long, it's an hour past bedtime, and Mom's exhausted.

Someday I will learn "the patience".  Maybe.

my personal trainers

While doing my postpartum workout today, I realized something funny I consistently do.  I make friends with my DVD workout trainers.  Obviously we don't go out for sodas or have playdates with our kids (although that'd be so cool if we could!)  However while pulling my knees to my chest, completing the last stretch in today's workout, Erin O'Brien grinned and said, "You did it!" and I replied with my own smile, and said with a sigh, "thanks Erin!"

I didn't say it just to be cute.  There was no one else in the room, who would I be sounding cute for?  I felt sincere gratitude for Erin coaching me through the workout, and found myself thinking, "That Erin, I really like her.  She's cool. She's my friend."

In my defense we do see each other almost every day - every day I find time to workout anyway.  She gives me advice, tells me a bit about her life, and motivates me to be a better person.  That's what friends do, right?  It just so happens she says and does the same things every time we're together.  That and I paid $13.99 for her friendship.   

I'm not crazy.  Not yet anyway, although with the extreme shortage of sleep that comes with raising two little girls and a newborn, I'm probably close.  I can't blame this behavior on that though, because I've felt the same way about my other DVD trainers, who I knew and worked with back in the days I used to get plenty of sleep.  Denise Austin was my girl during my last pregnancy, as we did low impact aerobics, and she coached me through special workouts for the second and third trimesters.  Erin O'Brien is my new friend now.  I used to use the Wii Active Personal Trainer program, and I even felt grateful for the motivation given by the animated digital trainers.  They'd respond to my motions with pre-recorded phrases like, "way to go!" or "I can tell you've been working on that" and "I know you can do this!", and I'd nod my head and say, "Yeah!  You're right, I can do this!"

Perhaps this is a sign I need to get out of the house more often.  I probably would enjoy an aerobics class with real people, and adults to converse with.  Classes cost money though, and don't answer the question of what to do with the kiddos.  With my DVD and Wii workouts, I can nurse Benjamin, put the girls down for naps, cram a bologna sandwich, and then pop in a DVD before everyone wakes up and needs me again.  I can exercise on my schedule (or lack of) without leaving the house.  The convenience is too immense to attempt anything else.   

Exercising releases positive hormones, and that bit of time dedicated to just me feels so great!  I'm happier on the days I workout, and have more patience with my messy house and noisy kids.  Can I help it if gratitude for my improved mood goes to the friendly TV image of a trainer who is guiding me down the path of a healthier, stronger, more energetic me?

So thanks guys.  Thanks Denise, thank you Erin, and thank you Wii digital person who has no name!  This post is dedicated to you.  You guys are #1 in my book, even though you don't know me, or don't really exist.     

I'm a rapper!

OK- wrapper.  Baby wrapper, to be specific.   

One would assume by the third baby, I'd have a routine set in place, know what I like, and how to handle the whole new baby experience.  You know what they say about people who assume!

With each new baby, things change.  Circumstances have obviously changed.  I now have three kids instead of two.  That's definitely challenging.  I still don't feel comfortable in those shoes, as my messy house and worn out husband can say.  Shout out to my DH who although is now back to work, still takes on a huge chunk of the household chores.  He's a dreamboat, I know. 

Products change.  Because just about every baby item we owned was in some shade of pink, we had to get a few new things.  To my surprise the same things I used with the girls aren't the same anymore.  Even my favorite brand of binkys (mam) have changed their design.  There are also new products to try out.  I'm a shopper, and baby things are a special favorite of mine to buy, so I find this part of having a new little one fun!

I always liked the theory of front packs and slings. 

1. You can keep your baby close to you all the time
2. Baby is comforted and happy being so close to mom, and less likely to cry or act colicky 
3. Your hands are free

I've had two different slings, and haven't managed any of the above.  I never felt confident my baby wouldn't tumble out, and the whole experience felt awkward.  Front packs strain my back and neck, and make me feel achy and cramped after 30 minutes or so of use. 

Enter my latest discovery in the world of baby products- the Moby Wrap

I love my new Moby wrap.  It's a simple design, basically a long piece of stretchy knit cotton.  If you're ambitious enough you could probably make your own.  I'm not ambitious enough.  I paid for my lack of ambition, as this company charges a lot for a long piece of stretchy cotton, but I'm so happy with this wrap,  I don't mind!  The link will show how exactly to wrap it around you and how baby fits in, but it's not complicated.  Benjamin feels secure, and I really can use both my hands.  He likes being snuggled close to me, and fell asleep pretty quickly once he was tucked in.  Best of all, his weight is distributed well on my back.  It's not tugging on just my shoulders, neck, etc.  I don't feel sore or achy, and I've had it on for a few hours.  I'm actually typing this entry while wearing it!  Ben is still sleeping comfortably, snuggled against my chest.  I'm now a wrapper!  I may change my tune as he gets bigger and heavier, although the workout will be good for me.  The little pamphlet that came with the wrap even illustrates exercises I can do while wearing my baby.  I haven't tried them yet, but plan to! 

 Here's the wrap from the front.  Merrylee's stretched hand is right where I tied the ends of the fabric at my right hip. 

 Here you can see  how the fabric crosses on my back, helping distribute Benjamin's weight well. 

Here's a closer view of his little face peeking out.  However I have the best view.  I can glance down and see his cheek resting on his tiny hands, and easily kiss the top of his head, all while doing the dishes, vacuuming, or playing wii.

Baby, completely, wrapped up in you

I wish I was good at telling stories, because this is great story, and deserves to be told well.  Sometimes I can describe something well, when I've had time to think, plan, and rewrite a few times.  Right now however I hardly have time to eat, so I'm afraid a quick summary and spellcheck are all the effort I have time for.  fyi, I will occasionally use the acronym "DH" for "dear husband" to simplify a little.   

June 9, 2011
I had a routine OB appointment, at 35 weeks into my pregnancy.  Things looked healthy and normal.  My cervix was dilated to 1", but that's not uncommon at 35-36 weeks along.  My doctor said all that meant is "you probably wont deliver this week". 

Ok.  "Probably." 

I took that with a grain of salt, and a bit of worry, as my husband wasn't due home from his deployment for a little over a week.  I would have rather heard news that I was showing no signs of labor at all.  I didn't want a "your baby probably wont come before your husband does", I wanted a guarantee.  Life offers no such thing. 

I visited a few friends, and complained I was getting a little worried.  I emailed my DH, giving him the details of the appointment.  He responded the way he had been lately, with promises that he'll get home on time.  The promises felt empty to me, and made me feel frustrated.  He's not the type to give empty promises.  I knew he didn't want me to worry, and worrying can actually bring on stress and early labor, but still, I felt I needed to mentally prepare for the possibility I'd be delivering my baby alone.  Promises that that wouldn't happen when I knew it very well could, weren't comforting to me.

Fast forward to about midnight.  The girls were in bed, and I was up re-reading Breaking Dawn.  It was a nice distraction, and I was waiting to video chat with my DH, who said he'd be online around that time.  I heard the ring of the video call, and came to sit at the computer.  We talked a little about my appointment, and he again started reassuring me he'd be there on time.  That brought my concerns a little closer to the surface than I'd hoped, and I started to cry, asking him why he kept promising something he couldn't be sure about.  Deployments are hard on both of us, and I try to make a sincere effort not to cry on the phone or on video chats.  It doesn't make for a positive experience for either of us when that happens.  I try to save the tears for after we hang up.  This time though the pregnancy hormones and all my worry took over.

My DH smiled, and said he really wasn't making promises he couldn't keep.  I looked at him exasperated, wondering why I really had to explain how I can't control when the baby comes any more than he can control when he gets to come home.  He smiled again, and said, "what if I told you if you went into labor right now, I would be there?"

I stopped crying.  Again more smiles on his end, and he told me to come open the front door.  He was standing there holding his laptop, using our own wi-fi signal to chat with me from outside.  His commander let him come home early, and he thought it'd be a nice surprise if he shared that news by showing up at our door.  He was right.

June 10, 2011
The next morning, we discovered Daddy wasn't the only man in the family with surprises and early arrival plans.  I was feeling consistent contractions that weren't letting up.  Due to nesting urges I'd been having that week, my hospital bag was packed and ready, and I had made plans for our girls with friends.  Thanks to some sweet and amazing young women from church, my house was clean and spotless.  If my husband was caught off guard, he didn't show it.  No doubt still feeling the effects of jet lag, he dug through his deployment bags for a few toiletries, and we took off for the hospital. 

June 11, 2011, 1:57 am
Benjamin Scott arrived.  He was 4 1/2 weeks early, but weighed in at 6 lbs 2 oz, a healthy weight considering his premature timing.

We're all very tired and a little shell shocked, but happy to all be together.  Benjamin fits right in like he's always been here.  We love every tiny toe and finger.

Before I knew my husband would be coming home, I did a lot of praying and soul searching.  I did my very best to make peace with the idea that I could be on my own in that delivery room.  When I prayed about it, I felt peaceful, and a reassurance that if that happened, I'd have the strength and help I'd need.  Faith comes before the blessings.  I was grateful to know I could do it, and even more grateful when I found out I wouldn't have to.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go sit on the couch, maybe fall asleep on my husband's shoulder,  snuggle my baby, and enjoying being completely wrapped up and surrounded by the people I love most.  Moments like that shouldn't be taken for granted.         

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Belly Button out of Joint

I noticed today that my belly button is a little off.  I'm not talking about the usual protruding-through-her-tee- shirt look all pregnant women get eventually (or in my case, about two months along this pregnancy).  I mean it's off-center.  For most people, male or female, pregnant or not, their belly buttons point in the same direction as their noses.  Mine now points slightly to the right.  For whatever reason, I'm off balance, a little uneven, helter-skelter, disheveled, off-sided, unsymmetrical, disproportionate, lopsided . . . I've got more! 

Perhaps the muscles on one side of my belly are more elastic than the other.  Maybe it's the way Benjamin is positioned.  Is it possible my navel has always been that way, but it takes a third pregnancy for me to notice?  The world may never know, and is most likely to never care.  I only mention it at all, because it seems to be a pretty accurate parallel to how I'm feeling.  The "of course" last-straw element that explains my mood.  We all have those little things.  The bad day you knew was coming, and naturally begins with you dropping your bowl of cereal onto your lap.  It happens, we sigh, look towards the heavens, and call the little event a "sign".  Then we move on with whatever trial we knowingly had scheduled.

I knew it'd be hard being so pregnant with my husband deployed.  Nothing has come as a surprise.  My evening heartburn kicks in about the same time my four-almost-five-year-old has a break down and starts screaming, and my two-year-old tells me she's had a potty training accident, again.  The exhaustion, the achey muscles, the too-frequent doctor's appointments, which mean babysitters, and driving, and waiting, all for a 5 minute examination and a "see ya in a few weeks" diagnosis, were to be expected.  It's funny how the knowledge that this is exactly how it'd be doesn't really make it easier. 

I know what you're thinking.

"But you're almost done!"
"Your husband will come home soon!"
"You're almost full term!"
"You're so close, aren't you happy it's almost over?"

No.  Because it's not over.  "Almost" brings no relief.  Why is it that?  Why is the last lap the hardest?  Theoretically it shouldn't be.  After so much effort, the last little bit should seem like nothing.  Yet we know from experience it's nothing like "nothing".  Think of something physically challenging you've done, and think about how you felt when you were almost done.  Did you suddenly have an extra burst of energy, and found it was over quickly, leaving you with a glorious feeling of accomplishment?  If you did, you have a special talent for glamorizing the past.

I remember climbing a mountain while my husband and I were still dating.  I saw the first of our group reach the top, and I sighed, thinking of my aching, trembling knees.  The advanced hikers were only about 20 minutes ahead of us, and yet those 20 minutes dragged on like the slow drip of a leaky faucet.  I kept myself going by imagining the incredible view we'd have at the top.  By the time I reached it however, I was so tired, I hardly looked around.  It was pretty, breathtaking even, if my breath hadn't already been taken by the extreme effort it took to get there.  Usually when we finish something difficult, the strongest emotion is relief rather than triumph.  Triumph comes later, after we've recovered somewhat, and suppressed the memory of the pain.

I think I've done this deployment routine too many times.  Perhaps so much that I've trained myself to expect the last few weeks to feel like they're the longest.  For so many obvious reasons, I'm tired, I'm off balanced, not straight, ready to fall over.  The future brings nothing but relief and good things, and all I can think about is how I'm not there yet.

So what is the answer to this part-of-life dilemma?  It's as obvious as my off-centered protruding navel in my those-don't-fit-anymore-because-I'm-in-my-last-month maternity tops. 

Keep pluggin' away.

I'm the old man with the ladder from the children's story Tikki Tikki Tembo. "Step over step, step over step, step over step"

I'm Dori from Disney's Finding Nemo. "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming"    

I'm the blue engine from The Little Engine that Could. "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!"

One day finished is one day closer to the end.  Yesterday I cleaned the house after a week of being sick.  Well, except for the bathrooms, which are still gross, and the laundry that still needs to be put away and the last load folded.  I did finish the vacuuming though. 

Today is my parents' 29th anniversary!  They are living proof that love survives hardship.  Proud parents of five, and even happier grandparents of almost four, they have much to celebrate.  This whole "never giving up even when it's hard" thing works.  I know it does.  I'm not giving up.  I'm just complaining a little.  Beneath my verbose complaints does lie a true attempt at optimism.  My hormones are in overdrive (shocking, huh?) and I've felt overdue for a date.  What better day than today?  29 years ago today my parents made a sacred commitment to each other, and although still watching from above, to me.  I couldn't go on a real date, obvoiusly.  So I did what I could think of as "the next best thing".  I put on makeup, and since we missed church last Sunday due to yucky colds, that was a first in over a week and half.  I dressed as nicely as possible considering the watermelon tummy.  I put on the necklace my mom gave me for Christmas, and the earrings my husband gave me before he deployed for the holidays.  I even brushed and styled Anny's hair, for which she was not grateful even though it did look cute.  We had a delicious lunch at Wendys.  The service was pathetic, we waited for our "fast food" for 15 minutes, and I had to go back to the counter 4 times for items they forgot to give us.  However they have a new berry salad, it's very good.  I purchased tickets to that great romantic comedy Kung Fu Panda II.  The movie was silly . . . ok, stupid, but we still had a good time.  Evening is now approaching, which will bring on the bedtime routine, and one more day to tick off. 

I wonder if the little blue engine would have made it if she were expecting, and carrying a few cute little blue cars of her own?  Perhaps the broken down circus train wouldn't have asked her for help.  Nah- who am I kidding?  Of course they would have asked!  They would have taken one look at her, observed her overflowing coal car and little blue cabooses in tow, seen she was a train with hidden strength, unafraid of a challenge, and known she'd say "yes".     



Did you note the airplane in the background?  He's also symbollic to my life, and definitely belongs in the picture.  I think ya'll can figure out how without my addition of another paragraph or three to this post.   



 



    

At Berry Picking Time

We visited a you-pick-it Strawberry farm with friends last week.  It was an hour long car drive, but worth every minute!  I can't believe we've never tried something like this before.  The berries were very red, very ripe, and incredibly delicious.  Unfortunately they may have ruined store berries forever for me, because, as with all farm fresh fruit, when you've tasted what it's like ripe off the plant/tree, there's just no comparison.  Anny did most of our picking, with a little help from little sister, although once Merrylee knew she could eat the berries, her contribution to the basket decreased considerably.  We came home with 10 lbs of strawberries, for just over $13.  It was by far one of the most fun things I've done with the girls.  That, and we came home with 10 lbs of strawberries!  Next month is the season for blueberries! 

Before I put up my montage of strawberry wonderfulness- here's a few photos of the girls' finished room.  Anny has graduated to a big girl bed, Merrylee to the toddler bed, thus freeing up the crib for Benjamin.  We added more pink to the curtains, and matching comforters.  When the sun comes through those curtains, the entire room glows pink.  It's a happy place to be. 

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

And what does one do with 10 lbs of fully ripe strawberries, you ask?  Well, after a little munching, I made 6 jars of freezer jam, 22 strawberry muffins (not all shown here, they were too good to all make it for the photo) plus 6 cups leftover for a butter cookie topped cobbler tomorrow as a mothers day dessert.

Singing Singing all the Day

"I'm small I know, but wherever I go, the grass grows greener still . . ."

It's a bit of a challenge to keep the household running smoothly while in my third trimester, Daddy away, and two little ones at home.  We've kept busy with what we can.  Here's some small things we've been doing:

• decorating Benjamin and the girls' rooms (photos to be posted of both in a later entry)
• playing with visiting family
• sewing a baby quilt for Benjamin (again, photos to be posted when it's finished)
• potty training Merrylee
• finishing up preschool activities and teeball
• making a coconut cake for Easter
• enjoying an Easter meal and egg hunt with friends
• visiting the beach (and bringing home much of the sand)

It's a short list of seemingly inconsequential things, easily glazed over.  However those small things keep my small family happy while Daddy's on another "big trip". 

I like to imagine the metaphor of a family on a hike.  The husband and wife share the load of supplies while the children skip along the sandy pathway of scattered flowers, pausing to pick a few, and place them sweetly in their shining hair.  For the parents the path turns uphill, muddy, and lonely as they hit the fork in the road that temporarily separates Daddy from the family.  As he disappears around the corner the mother is tempted to slow down, drag her feet, or even sit down on the side of the path and cry.  By resisting that urge and giving away of herself, for the children the path continues to be the same light, easy, and flowered walk it's always been, and the mother is rewarded with happy sounds of them singing, singing, all the way.  Listening to those sweet and pleasant voices makes it easier for her to keep moving, and even notice an occasional blossom or two of her own.  Their steps are small, limited to the short strides of the little ones; their progress slow and unrushed by lots of potty breaks, pauses to look at caterpillars, smell flowers, and gaze at every pretty bird or butterfly along the way.  The seasoned and strong hikers who pass them by may wonder why they are making the trip at all, as it seems they wont ever get very far.  However the maker of the path smiles upon the scene, and sees that wherever they go, the grass grows greener still.       

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

I'm grateful for our Savior, Jesus Christ, who lived a perfect life of giving and service.  He gave us his life, and like him we will live again after death.  He atoned for our sins, giving us the ability to repent, and find happiness despite our imperfections and mistakes.  This Easter we celebrate our love for him, and renew our efforts to follow his example.  He will guide us through every step we take on his path, make our burdens light, and open our eyes to the beauty that surrounds us on our way.    

“Give,” Said the Little Stream, Children’s Songbook of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 236


Cheerfully

1. “Give,” said the little stream,
“Give, oh! give, give, oh! give.”
“Give,” said the little stream,
As it hurried down the hill;
“I’m small, I know, but wherever I go
The grass grows greener still.”

Chorus
Singing, singing all the day,
“Give away, oh! give away.”
Singing, singing all the day,
“Give, oh! give away.”

2. “Give,” said the little rain,
“Give, oh! give, give, oh! give.”
“Give,” said the little rain,
As it fell upon the flow’rs;
“I’ll raise their drooping heads again,”
As it fell upon the flow’rs.

3. Give, then, as Jesus gives,
Give, oh! give, give, oh! give.
Give, then, as Jesus gives;
There is something all can give.
Do as the streams and blossoms do:
For God and others live.

Words: Fanny J. Crosby, 1820–1915
Music: William B. Bradbury, 1816–1868. Arr. © 1989 IRI

You may see the music and listen to the traditional version of this song here

Deuteronomy  16:17
17 Every man shall give as he is able, according to the blessing of the Lord thy God which he hath given thee.

Root for the home team!

How do you get a very girly little four year old excited about Teeball?  Two very important steps:

1.  Buy every accessory possible in pink
2. Let a very excited Daddy motivate her 

What more can a girl ask for in a sport than a helmet like that, and an amazing Dad?!

How to Charm Your Daddy 101

Granted Merrylee was already at an advantage, since Daddy just got home and hadn't seen her in awhile, so just about everything the girls do make him smile. Still though, this time, she had him nailed.

The girls were changing into their pajamas with Daddy's help. I had plans to do laundry (failed plans) so the baskets were in the laundry room. Rather than start a pile of clothes on the floor where the basket should be, Dad handed Merrylee their dirty clothes to go carry into the laundry room. Merrylee doesn't like being by herself in any part of the house, so I could smell an excuse coming. Our neighbors have dogs we can sometimes hear barking. A common excuse for Merrylee not to be alone or sent somewhere is "I'm scared of the puppies".

That one works on me sometimes, because I'm actually a little afraid of their puppies too.  Unlike Merrylee however, I do find more comfort in our walls and closed doors, and am a little past jumping at the mere sound of their bark.  That comes with years of practice I guess! 

Tonight, knowing her audience, Merrylee changed her excuse. Hearing the cannon boom of practicing AC-130's in the distant airfields, she started walking to the laundry room, then ran back into the bedroom, looked innocently up into Daddy's face and said, "I don't wanna see a gunship."

A surprised look came over Daddy's face, and instead of rolling his eyes and telling her that was silly (and obviously manipulative) he smiled at her, gave me a quick "aren't our girls amazing?!!" look and said, "Ok Merrylee, I'll walk with you, because you're so cute."

He then on their way to the laundry room kindly explained she has nothing to fear about the gunships, and that they're on her side. I'm sure she's very reassured, and will never use such an excuse again. Never ever, not when it worked so well...

Hippie Night

Monday evenings are in a way just as sacred as the sabbath to LDS families.  However instead of forgetting all worldly cares, and dedicating ourselves to a day of rest and worship as we do on Sundays, we set all else aside, and focus on our families.  Church buildings are locked and dark, and our temples are closed.  We are discouraged from holding parties, receptions, showers, and other get togethers that would distract from family time, or pull someone away from home.  We're even discouraged from signing up our children with sports teams, music groups, or anything else that would regularly meet on a Monday evening.  Monday nights are for the family, and what could possibly be more important than a consistent, regular family meeting time?

We call these special weekly meetings Family Home Evening, or FHE for short.  I was privileged to grow up in a family that never missed a single FHE.  Occasionally my dad's job would keep him working late or out of town, but my mom then directed our family evenings herself.  We sang songs, read from the scriptures, had gospel lessons, ate treats, and enjoyed being together.  Sometimes we'd go out to the movies as a family, or play flashlight games outside.  Parents, brothers, and sisters became an audience to preform dance routines, a new song learned on a musical instrument, or a poem memorized at school.  We also used that time to discuss important events, and make family decisions.  Some of my most treasured childhood memories are from a common Monday night practice in our home, where during "treat time" at the end of FHE, my Dad read aloud stories or chapters from funny books.  We'd laugh until we were at risk of choking or spitting out chocolate brownie, and were always sad when the story or chapter was over, and we had to get ready for bed.  Even as a moody teenager, I looked forward to Monday nights.  It was an oasis of happiness, strategically placed at the start of a long and difficult week of high school. 

I remember when I was twelve, I had an opportunity to join an elite children's orchestra.  My violin teacher highly recommended the group, and my mother, being a music teacher herself, knew the experience would be a good opportunity for me.  However when we learned the group met on Monday evenings, there was no argument or pause.  I didn't have to fight with my mother, I simply knew, this wasn't something I would participate in.  She really wanted me to be a part of this group, but despite this disappointment, she didn't hesitate for a second, or rationalize that maybe we could switch the nights for family night.  We both knew right away, Monday nights are family nights, and being a great musician comes second to being together as a family. I didn't join the group. 

At the time that experience wasn't significant, because it was consistent with training I'd had all my life.  It didn't stand out as extraordinary to me.  I see now that it was.  I've realized it's my parents unfailing attitude and dedication to our family that has taught me where my priorities should be, and how to run my own family now.  The confidence I have in my family relationships has so much to do with that family night.  Our schedule of activities molded around family night, and not the reverse.  Tuesday through Saturday the world had claim on our time.  Nothing touched Monday nights, because there never was something else more important.   

I do not think there is a better way to demonstrate love to your family.  There are naturally other important things not to be neglected, such as kind words, patience, hard work, a listening ear, providing for essential needs, teaching discipline and moderation, keeping a clean and healthy home, the list goes on.  However I have witnessed the blessings of a regular family time that comes second to nothing else.  I was reminded every single Monday of the first eighteen years of my life that I was loved, and that being together as a family mattered.  Nothing shook our resolve.  Come what may, we'd be together that night.  I was never bitter or unhappy about that.  No one in my family was.  We wanted to be together.  What more could you want from life than to be together with your family? 

After that lengthy and slightly heavy description of a topic of obvious importance to me, you're probably wondering what on earth gave me the inclination to name this entry "hippie night"?  Well I can answer that!!!  My husband and I do hold FHE with our family.  After a perfect legacy and example set by my parents, how can we not?!!!  With Daddy's frequent deployments, its obvious to anyone how important a regular family meeting time would be.  Now, admittedly while Daddy is away and the girls are so little, holding FHE does feel a bit redundant, since we're together all day anyway.  However routine and memories start early, and I don't really have an excuse not to do something special on Mondays with my little sweeties.  Last night the girls and I had a "hippie night" together for our FHE.  Not really, but we did make homemade granola.  Then we formed a drum circle, sang "kum bi ya" . . . just kidding.  I'm much too conservative, and would probably offend most hippies by applying the term to myself.  We did make the granola though, and it was fun!!! 

We'd had a late lunch, and not having a hungry Daddy coming home from work to cook for makes our dinner routine a little more flexible.  Emma, my fabulous friend, who is a great mom, and a former professional chef, recommended this recipe for homemade granola.  As our "optional ingredients" we added dried cranberries and mini chocolate chips, half a cup each, and enjoyed bowls of freshly made granola for supper.  Both my girls, who are picky eaters, especially at supper time, gobbled it right up!!  It's of course tasty with fruit, or on ice cream or yogurt (so I hear anyway) but we ate it by itself like dry cereal.  We had so much fun making it and of course eating it together, I had to share both the experience and recipe.  A healthy, kid-friendly snack, that contains whole grains, fruit, protein, and no preservatives (since we made it at home ourselves!) is a rare find!! 

So- go start up a family night, and make some granola!!!  If you ever need ideas on what to do together, I'm your girl, as I've had a lifetime of experience on the subject.  Don't feel intimidated or tell yourself it's too late, your kids are too old, your lives too busy... because the way to make something like this work, is to set aside all excuses, get started, and don't stop.  You'll never truly have something better to do in place of this time, and you'll never miss what you sacrificed to be together.  Think about what in your heart is most important to you, and you'll know I'm right.  Not that I can take credit.  FHE wasn't my idea after all...

Little Brothers

Although the title may suggest otherwise, we did not recently find out we're expecting twin boys. I have had a "feeling" we're expecting a son. Usually my maternal instincts are wrong though, so we'll see.

This post is dedicated to not the future brothers of Anny and Merrylee, but rather to my little brothers, Peter and Joseph. The holidays came and went with the number one man in our lives overseas. Daddy's in the Air Force, so as Merrylee often says these days in her cute little toddler voice, "it happens".

Instead of moping around the house in FL, we were graciously invited to spend Christmas and New Years with my family in VA. I have to admit there wasn't a complete lack of moping there on my part, but my little brothers, who are both taller than me now and much much cooler, were awesome, fun, hilarious, friendly, cute, witty, charming, chivalrous, and tremendously adored by their little nieces. They truly made that visit special for us. I started making a list of some of the things they did to make our visit great, but the list seemed so incomplete and didn't clearly illustrate how extraordinary my brothers really are. From cleaning dirty diapers and throw-up (a lot of both) to demonstrating an endless supply of patience for chatter and princess games, they did it all and then some. They made me laugh when I was lonely, smile and forget I was nauseous . . . I'm afraid I'm at a loss in how to describe my gratitude to them. Perhaps my feelings are best demonstrated in song.



Uncle Joe and Uncle Pete, we love you both so so much, and miss you already. I feel very much like Candice in the video, the silly and obnoxious big sister who's only claim to fame is being related to and older than Phineas and Pherb. How am I related to such incredible guys as you two??!! Just lucky I guess!!