My Little Photographer

One of the little people in my house often high-jacks my camera. Sometimes with my knowledge. Sometimes without.

Here we have a still life. The blanket her dear Auntie Mols (my sister) made for her on a chair at my parents' house.


Our kitchen trashcan. Notice how she captured it's dusty essence.


Ahh. This one is can bring a tear to the eye...a lonely babe. On the kitchen floor.


The laundry room after returning from the hotel with the swimming pool. Nice composition if I may say so myself.


She calls this one 'Bench in Kitchen'.


Her self-portrait. Oh, how dramatic.


Here she is, the photographer herself. Ever stylish. Ever accessorized. My Sadie girl.

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Regrouping

When we left our home for Christmas traveling a week ago, I was still in rough shape. The two days before we left, I started venturing downstairs where I washed a measly couple of dishes and watched Miriam while Jamey shoveled the driveway so we would be able to get out our driveway. Each of those activities left me wasted and sore. The morning we left, I hobbled out to the van through the shoveled path, clinging to Jamey. Neither of us thought me slipping and falling into a snow bank would improve my chances for a comfortable van ride out of state.

Two days before we left to travel.

Fast forward one week. Well fed (with too much good food) and well rested, I found myself very comfortable in the passenger's seat of our van on the way home. Sam and Sadie were quietly watching Liberty's Kids on Jamey's laptop (it's a rare occurrence to watch a video on a trip) and Miriam was napping. The sun was shining in on me and my winter jacket provided extra warmth on my lap. My Advil was working. All was well.

I decided to begin the "negotiating discussion" with Jamey before we got home. I know we are not the only couple of kids who do this. It's that dividing of time into blocks where one of us is responsible for the kids so the other can actually get stuff done and then the roles are traded during the next block of time. We do this a lot. In fact, there have been periods of time where Jamey and I were with the kids together (all of us at once) only for meals and church.

This doesn't mean we don't get things done when the kids are around. I can be very productive when I'm with the kids because they are used to me having to do housework while I'm with them. On the other hand, Jamey has some trouble. He's earned the reputation as the one who wrestles, plays games and tells stories, so that's what they expect of him and it makes getting work done more difficult (especially inside winter work).

The reason we needed to have this discussion once again was because Jamey still had two more weeks of winter break left. He spent the first week taking care of me, his gimpy post-surgery wife. He spent the second week traveling. He's left with two weeks to tackle the lengthy to-do list he's made for himself, mostly house repair stuff that he's neglected because of all the studying he had been doing fall semester. I wanted him to feel like he's on break. I wanted to take the brunt of the child care and let him have time to himself. It all seemed very reasonable- I was feeling so much better and was ready to take back my household duties.

Here's what I suggested and he readily agreed to...We would take turns waking up with the kids (Sadie wakes by 6 am). On my morning to be up, he could sleep as late as he wanted to and then get to work on his list, coming in to have lunch with us at noon. On his morning to be up, I would sleep in until 7:30 and then he could get to work, coming in for lunch. We've started back up with school again after two weeks off, so I needed to have Sam and Sadie in the mornings anyway. Every other afternoon, we'd swap kid duty so the other could get things done. This does not mean the one without the kids is doing fun stuff, unless you call uninterrupted laundry folding or re-pointing the mortar in the foundation walls fun.

With the plan in place, we awoke this morning. Jamey got up with the kids and let me sleep until 9-ish. He's a sweet guy. He went to run errands for supplies and returned around 11 am. During the time he was gone, I did school with Sam and tried to tidy up. Sadie mostly played. Miriam was awake for an hour. I was done in.

My mid-section ached from carrying a semi-fussy baby around who seems to strategically place kicks at my incision sites. I was exhausted, light-headed and bit dizzy. To top all that off, my head was spinning due to the chaos of dirty laundry, Christmas toys strewn about, meals to plan for the week, doctor's appointments to be made, phone calls to return, bills to pay....

Needless to say, we had another conversation about the next two weeks. It's pretty different than the first.

I tried. Pin It

Merry Christmas, Friends

Well, I just had to write one more time before we head out of town and begin our holiday traveling. The house is clean, thanks to my husband who continues to surprise me (he's good at everything). We have some friend's out-of-town family using our house while we're away.

Almost everything is packed.

Sam and Sadie opened their stockings this afternoon and seemed genuinely happy with their little gifts- new winter hats, new drinking cups, a few chocolates, bird ornaments, chap stick, a small lego set (for Sam) and mini etch-a-skecth (for Sadie).

I opened body wash (the only time I get it, well, except when I traded my sister-in-law for some in exchange for 4 pints of pickled beets), a set of three funnels, a silicone spatula and two bags of ghiradelli chocolates. Jamey insisted on nothing, but we made him a card, gave him some chocolates and a book he's had his eye on.


We then explained to the kids that their main gift was to come. Well, we tried to explain what it is. They've never been to anything like it. We are taking them to Sight and Sound to see their Miracle of Christmas show.

I have weened myself off pain pills and onto ibuprofen. I still have a lot of discomfort, but I've come a long way from where I was this time last week. Nursing Miriam is still a bit tricky and I long to carry her around and cuddle with her the way I used to. Some day soon, hopefully.


I want to wish you (whether you are a friend from the days before this blog, whether you're a new blogger-friend, whether you're a regular commenter or whether you're a silent reader) a very, very Merry Christmas.

I hope this week draws you closer to family and friends, inspires you to give to those who are not as blessed as yourself and most of all, that this Christmas will be like no other for you. I hope and pray that you will feel God's peace, Christ's immeasurable love for you and a heightened desire to read God's word.

You have blessed me. May God bless you. Merry Christmas!! Pin It

A Recipe First

For the first time ever on this blog, I am writing about a dish I did not first make myself. I did not make it, but I ate it and what's more important? Huh? Huh?

This past Monday while I was in having my "little" procedure (I say "little" with all the sarcasm I can muster- this one has really sent me for a loop), my dear, sweet sister-in-law was at our home watching and feeding our children. I didn't get a taste of what she had brought for them for dinner until Tuesday lunch. Had I known about this dish, I would have had my brother truck some into the hospital for me. C'mon, crackers? I'm not a bird for crying out loud.

I have no picture because it was all gobbled up. And, I would like to mention that Jamey took some heat because the only time I had a chance to taste this dish was Tuesday lunch. He and the kids took care of the rest of the leftovers leaving me, their recovering-miserable-confined-to-bed mommy with only one measly helping. Still a little resentful? Yep.

I know we're coming up on a very busy week and many of your meals are probably already planned or (hopefully) will be made for or with you, but please tuck this recipe away for after the holidays. You know, when you experience that meal-planning let-down when all the yummy holiday foods have been devoured and you just can't quite bring yourself to making the same-old same-old. This dish will be just what you need...creamy, hearty, flavorful, easy, delicious. What are you waiting for? Pick up that pen!

Kim's Pineapple Ham Casserole

1 (20 ounce) can pineapple chunks or tidbits
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. prepared mustard
1/4 tsp. black pepper
3 cups cooked rice (about 1 cup uncooked)
2 cups cubed cooked ham
1 cup chopped green or red bell pepper
1 1/2 cups swiss cheese, shredded
1/3 cup chopped onion

Drain the pineapple, reserving 1/2 cup of the juice. Set pineapple aside. In a large bowl, combine the pineapple juice, mayonnaise, salt, mustard and black pepper. Fold in the remaining ingredients (except for 1/2 cup of shredded swiss cheese) including the pineapple and transfer to a greased 2-quart baking dish. Cover and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Remove cover and sprinkle top with the remaining 1/3 cup of swiss cheese and return the dish to the oven for another 10 minutes or until the cheese has melted.

Enjoy and prepare to hoard some leftovers if you want more than one helping. Pin It

Our Ectopic Pregnancy #1

It was eight years ago. Jamey and I had been married for almost four. The first three of those years were spent on the pill. We were ready to have children, so we stopped the birth control. Four months went by and no period. I went to see my midwives group and they prescribed progesterone to trigger a period.

Around this time, a dear friend recommended the book Taking Charge of Your Fertility (a fantastic book for all women whether you are trying to conceive, use charting as birth control or would just like to understand how we females work). After reading this book cover to cover, I wondered if I was ovulating.

I starting charting my temperature and sure enough it appeared that I was not. I had bled, but discovered there is something called anovulatory bleeding- you have a period but it is not triggered by ovulation. I went to see my midwives and presented my charts. They agreed. Based on my charts, I was not ovulating. I was then prescribed Clomid to trigger ovulation.

After three months on Clomid, my temperature spiked (indicating a possible pregnancy). By that point I was kind-of a mess. All my life, I knew I wanted to be a mother. That was the plan. No one told me that sometimes it doesn't happen so easily or may not happen at all. I felt blind-sided. Now after months of trying to figure out what was going on and then trying for months to get pregnant, I felt spent. I took a pregnancy test and couldn't bear to look at it myself. I laid back on our bed and asked Jamey to read it. He walked over to me and had the look of someone who bears bad news. Then, his face broke into a grin. We were pregnant.

Soon after, Jamey left on a work trip. He would be gone five weeks, several states away. I always got lonely while he was away, but this time it wasn't so hard. I had life growing inside me. Around 7 weeks, I came down with what I thought was a stomach bug or problems with my irritable bowel, but then it worsened. I called out sick from work. I felt awful. I laid in bed feeling bloated and terribly uncomfortable. No change of position seemed to help. I remember my supervisor calling me at home. A parent was upset about a miscommunication and wanted some clarification on an issue (I worked as a clinical social worker in a psychiatric hospital for kids). I could barely follow what she was asking me. I apologized and told her that I was feeling just miserable and really couldn't talk.

I had to go to the bathroom then, so I stood up and almost passed out. I crawled to the toilet and threw up. I crawled back into bed and thought, my, I'm really sick. I spoke to Jamey on the phone that night, like we did every night. By then I was feeling a bit better but not well enough to return to work the following day. The next morning I had a routine appointment at the midwives' to meet with a nurse to go over proper nutrition, etc. I slept pretty well that night and felt a wee bit better, but not great, the next morning. I still felt bloated and remember wearing a pair of loose-fitting overalls for comfort.

I met with the nurse, answering many questions about my family's medical history and mine. In the course of conversation, I mentioned how awful I had felt the day before. The nurse asked more questions and her face told me she was concerned. She asked me to wait a minute. She was going to check and see if she could get me in for a quick ultrasound to make sure everything was okay.

This nurse was an angel, by the way. She was sweet and nurturing, about my mother's age. She came in with me for the ultrasound. The other angel, the ultrasound technician, began the ultrasound internally. She was quiet as she explored my abdomen. After what seemed like forever, she spoke as she moved the cursor over a very large, dark area on the screen. She said, "See this large, dark area? This is blood. Your abdomen is full of blood."

(I am just about losing it as I write this.)

The first angel took my hand. I started to cry. I didn't understand what all this meant exactly, but I knew it was bad. The second angel took my other hand. Then, they did something I did not expect. They asked if they could pray with me. I said yes through my sobs. Hand in hand they prayed for me, with me.

After reviewing the ultrasound pictures, one of the two doctors from the group came in and explained what was happening. The fetus attached itself to the wall of my left fallopian tube and began to grow there, producing a positive pregnancy test. As it grew, it ruptured my tube, causing blood to leak into my abdomen. He explained that the pregnancy was not viable, that there was no way to move the pregnancy to my uterus. I would need surgery to remove the pregnancy and repair my fallopian tube.

Jamey was in Georgia.

The doctor let me use his cell phone. I didn't have Jamey's Georgia number with me, so I had to call his supervisor. I'm not sure how he was able to understand me, but he had Jamey paged at the plant where he was working and somehow I found myself on the phone with him. I filled him in on what was happening and explained that I had to go to the hospital right away for surgery.

At the time we really didn't understand much about what was happening, I was raw emotion and he was trying to piece together what had happened and what he should do. After speaking to Jamey, I called and left a message for my sister who was attending a local college. I got her answering machine at her apartment and left a blubbering message describing what was going on.

I drove to the hospital by myself. I was numb. We lost a baby. I realize it was never a viable baby, but in my mind it was. I'm a planner and I had all these plans worked out. I would quit work and love on this baby like no other baby had been loved on before. Not only was there now no baby, but I was having surgery. I had never had surgery before. I was scared and felt very alone.

As soon as I walked onto the proper floor at the hospital, a nurse asked me my name and told me my husband was on the phone. He had looked up ectopic pregnancy on line and decided he would drive home right away. He had a 12 hour drive, but he was coming. I felt some relief. A very kind and supportive nurse lead me into my room to be prepped. Gown, IV, blood pressure, oxygen, temp. I was cold, shivering. I was scared as well as going into shock. I laid there and prayed. I was not on the surgery schedule, so I had to wait until they could fit me in.

Soon, I heard my dear sister speaking my name through sobs in the hallway. A nurse lead her to me. We cried. Oh, did we cry. I no longer felt alone.

Many hours later, I half woke up to a kiss. The room was dark. It was very early morning. Jamey had arrived. My sister was sleeping on the couch in my room. I drifted off to sleep again.

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It's hard to write more than the description of what happened. Recovery was painful, both physically and emotionally. Looking back I had all the textbook symptoms of an ectopic pregnancy. I had even skimmed over those chapters in the baby books I had bought. It just did not register that that was what was happening to me.

What scares me most is that I was home alone when the rupture occurred. Had I not had the appointment scheduled, had I passed out, had no one checked on me (no one had reason to), would I be here?

My story has a very happy ending. I don't know if it will be yours, but if you are reading this because you have experienced an ectopic pregnancy, I want you to know that I feel your pain and your loss. It is real pain and real loss. I would hug you if I could. I hope you feel my love.

There was hope for me even though I could not see it or feel it for quite some time. As I am writing this very section, child number three is waking from her nap crying out for me. There is hope not only when you've had one ectopic pregnancy, but also when you've had two. I will share that story soon.

In the meantime, grieve. Let those around you do their best to comfort you. They won't understand what you're going through, but if they are trying to it shows they care. Take care of your body. Be gentle with yourself, both physically and emotionally.

It will take time to heal. Gift yourself that time.

Click here for Our Ectopic Pregnancy #2. Pin It

The Gift of Experiences

We're coming up not only on Christmas, but also on Sam and Sadie's birthdays that follow close behind. Both celebrations include a lot of gift-getting on their parts. They, of course, are thrilled by the prospect. We, their parents, appreciate the generosity of friends and family as well. When it comes to deciding what we will give them for Christmas and birthday, we're often torn.

Do we add to their gifts? Find a gift alternative such as giving to a charity? Wrap up toys they haven't played with in awhile and hope they forget they've already opened them once before?

We determined that our goals are two-fold. One, we want to down-play the importance of things and two, we want to instill the value of giving (versus only receiving). For the latter, we talk about (and let them help with) what we're doing for others (that we don't know).

To attempt to defend off materialism (which is just dying to gobble-up our children), we've begun giving gifts of experiences instead of things. Now, I understand that experiences are things, too. They sometimes cost money and have the potential to become more extravagant than gifts of things. Our ideal is to find inexpensive experiences that will provide fond memories of celebrating their lives (in the case of their birthdays) and of Christ's coming (in the case of Christmas). We started this tradition last year when we all went bowling for their birthdays. This past weekend, Sam and Sadie received their birthday present for this year a tad early.

Years ago when Jamey traveled for work, he earned hotel points toward free nights. Those hotel points expire the end of this year, hence the reason their "gift" was early. We used the last of our points and booked a free night in a very nice hotel with an indoor swimming pool and had Papa John's pizza delivered to our room for dinner. When we told Sam and Sadie our plans, Sam cried (literally) between squeals of delight and giving of hugs.

We had such a wonderful time. When we walked into the marble-clad lobby with the nine-foot decorated Christmas tree, they could not contain their excitement. The lady at the desk probably wondered when the last time was we let our children out of the house.

The kids spent two hours in the pool both days (we had it to ourselves the whole time), thought having pizza delivered to the hotel room was awesome and loved eating in the hotel's complimentary full breakfast restaurant. Several times over those two days, we heard Sam say, "This is the BEST birthday present EVER!" and Sadie say, "Dis is SO citing!" (Translation: This is so exciting!).

Except for the two hours it took to get everyone asleep in the same hotel room, the birthday present was a success. We have another experience-gift planned for them for Christmas, but that one is a secret. For now.

Now I know we are not the first ones to ever think of giving an experience as a gift and we will be forever in need of new ideas. So, please share with us what experiences you've given in the past.

Pretty please?

P.S. Just thought you'd like to know that I took a shower today- almost all by myself. Baby steps are just fine by me. Pin It

Happy To Be Home

Yesterday was a very long day.

I was up and showered by 6:30 am. At 7:15 am my dear brother was driving me to the hospital for my hernia repair. It's not that Jamey didn't want to. It's kind-of because I didn't want him to. I was worried about Miriam and how she's do when it came to bottled breast milk. I wanted Jamey there with her to figure things out and not place that burden on someone else. (Jamey is really good at carrying my burdens).

Check-in was actually pleasant. A nurse that I know inserted my IV and the nurse who reviewed my paperwork knew where I lived (her grandma had lived right down the road) and homeschools her son. I was really feeling good. Almost no anxiety what-so-ever. I contribute this to all the thoughts and prayers being sent my way. Things were going nicely.

I was wheeled into the operating room only 40 minutes behind schedule and before I knew it I was slipping away into dreamland, minus the dreams.

I woke up in a lot of pain. Trying to convey my pain level (on a one to ten scale) was difficult as I was having trouble forming my thoughts and words thanks to the drugs. The drugs ended up being the problem. They were making me good and sleepy and groggy and limp, but they weren't touching my pain. I could hear other nurses asking other patients who had just woken up about their pain and they were all replying that they had little or no pain. What in the world?! I didn't think I was that much of a wimp. I had a surgeon call me "stoic" once before for goodness sake.

They kept me in recovery longer than normal and tried a myriad of different pain medications to make me comfortable. Eventually I felt a little relief and they took me to a little cubicle of a room. I didn't anticipate needing Jamey there until I was ready to be taken home. I was surprised to find myself asking to nurse to call him and have him come in. I needed him with me.

The rest of the day was spent half-sleeping in pain on oxygen. The drugs made me so sleepy that I guess I was forgetting to breathe, sending my oxygen alarm off repeatedly. They weren't happy with my blood pressure either. It's normally on the low side anyway, but it was dropping even lower. The pain killers were making me nauseous and irritable and I wasn't able to pee. The nurses were pleased with me when I could walk myself to the bathroom, but their faces showed pity when I couldn't empty my bladder and when my BP read low once again.

By 6pm I was asking to leave. They were hinting that I could/should stay overnight. I was miserable and being in the hospital was not making me feel better. If I was going to feel lousy, I wanted to feel lousy in my own bed. Finally, after checking with the on-call surgeon about my low BP, we were allowed to leave. Jamey settled me in bed after a gingerly ride home and before long, I was off to sleep.

(Do you know how often you use your stomach muscles? Like, all the time. Having seven small incisions/puncture wounds in those stomach muscles makes moving not fun at all. I just wanted to relay that little fun fact.)

Today is a better day. The drugs that made me irritable and way too groggy yesterday have worn off and my pain pills are providing just the right amount of sleepiness and almost the right amount of pain relief as long as we don't let them wear off. It's nice being married to your own personal pharmacist who also brings you meals, the computer and the mail upon request.

Things with Miriam have been going pretty well. It took her awhile yesterday but she finally caught on to bottles (we had done some practice ones ahead of time, but she didn't like them). I pumped once in the hospital and once in the middle of the night to get rid of all the tainted milk and to keep me from leaking all over the place. Twice today she's nursed. We've found two good positions for both of us, thank goodness. Even though she's eating well she's not quite her happy self. I wonder what she thinks. "Get up, lazy mommy! You've been in that bed all day and haven't carried me on your hip once!"

My brother and his wife have been amazing. Kim spent most of the day with our three kids, brought in a meal and all-together did a wonderful job. We thought we'd need her for just a couple hours as I was projected to be released around 1 pm instead of 6 or 7 pm or whenever that was. When we got home, she had Miriam and Sadie in bed and was playing Monopoly with Sam. Playing Monopoly with Sam is enough to show how awesome she is. So, thank you, thank you, thank you, Kim and Ben.

And then there is my husband, Jamey. You know the vow "in sickness and in health"? With three pregnancies, three deliveries and four surgeries, he's certainly holding up his promise to stick by me. He won't like me writing this, but he is truly the most giving and self-less person I know. You know how God is our rock? Well, I've been blessed with two rocks.

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Maybe this has been too much information for you and if so, I apologize. It's funny, this blog-thing. I'm finding that it's a compulsion, this having to write down events and memories even if they are events and memories that I would probably prefer not to remember. It seems to help me organize my thoughts and make better sense out of things (details, feelings, etc.) in my head.

Thanks for bearing with me and for all your kind thoughts and words (and gifts of food- you know who you are). Pin It

Down and Out

That's what I'll be on Monday. I'm getting one of my Christmas presents early. A hernia repair. Isn't that right up at the top of your Christmas list? C'mon. You know you want one.

It's a long story, but to pare it down a bit I seem to have a history of two things. Surgeries and babies. This is how my life has gone (all in the past 9 years) ... surgery, baby, surgery, baby, surgery, baby and now... can you guess? Yep, surgery. And no, I'm not joking.

My first two surgeries (before and after having Sam) were to remove ectopic pregnancies. These are two saga-like stories in and of themselves that I plan on writing about soon. The third, two months after Sadie was born, was to repair an umbilical hernia that formed during my pregnancy with her. Then came the lovely, newly toothie, Miriam. And now, another hernia repair. This one two inches above the previous one.

All women have some muscle separation in their abdomens while carrying a child. Those muscles come back together some time after the birth. My muscles prefer to not. This has made me more susceptible to hernias. Lovely.

Surgery is Monday morning. Hopefully I'll be home the same day. Jamey's semester ends this Friday, so he'll be home to care for me and the kids until well after Christmas. I'm not sure what next week will be like. I'll either have way too much time on my hands and will be writing up a storm or I'll be relishing in the stupor that is pain medication and forget this blog exists.

What I do know, is that nursing Miriam will be tricky. So, if you can find it in your hearts, please breathe a little prayer for us. I'm worried my heart will ache more than my incisions. That baby belongs in my arms.

I anticipate separation anxiety on both our parts. Pin It

Christmas Transformation

I love how this season transforms our home and, in turn, my focus. All of a sudden, it has a new feel- a feeling of awe and excitement. It's special, celebratory. Clearly something amazing is about to happen. We turn candles on in the windows at dusk, leave the Christmas tree lights on all day and evening, read advent scriptures and hang special ornaments, play with figurines Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus and eat way too many cookies. We prepare out hearts as we prepare our home.

* This olive wood nativity scene can be purchased here.

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Possessed

Well I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to talk about it again. This chocolate and ginger thing is almost all I can think about. I may very well be suffering some form of addiction. Not only have I been making several different kinds of chocolate gingerbread cookies for Christmas, it's beginning to affect other areas of my life.

There I was, innocently mixing up a batch of baked oatmeal (what we eat daily for breakfast) just like I do every few days and all of a sudden I was possessed by some chocolate-ginger entity (Yes, I just watched the new Star Trek movie. And, yes, I'm a nerd. And, yes, the movie is awesome.) that forced me to reach into the cabinet and add a teaspoon of ginger, a 1/3 cup cocoa and a 1/2 cup of white chocolate chips to the oatmeal. To our breakfast! Me! Feeding our children chocolate baked oatmeal for breakfast!

I was appalled at myself. I really was, well...I was until I tasted the warm, fresh-from-the-oven chocolate-ginger oatmeal. Then I became possessed all over again and searched through my archives until I found this recipe that I knew was in some magazine somewhere.

So, go on. Go ahead and shake your head in disappointment. I probably would if I were you. Either that or prepare to become possessed yourself... come on in, the water is fine.

Chocolate Gingerbread Men (adapted from Martha Stewart Living Magazine, November 2004)
Makes about 3 dozen cookies.
The dough needs to chill a bit before rolling out.

3 1/2 cups flour, plus more for dusting
1/2 cup cocoa powder
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
12 tbsp. unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1 large egg
1/2 cup dark unsulfered molasses
1 tbsp. bottled ginger
sanding sugar or edible glitter, for sprinkling

Whisk together ingredients flour through baking soda in a bowl and set aside. In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream butter and brown sugar until fluffy (about 4 minutes). Add egg, molasses, and bottled ginger, mixing until combined. Add flour mixture and beat until just incorporated. Refrigerate the dough for a couple of hours. Or, if you wish to roll out cookies sooner, divide dough in half and place each half on a large sheet of plastic wrap. Cover it with wrap and press it until it is about an inch thick. Refrigerate the halves this way and you can chill them for just an hour.

Flour your counter top and turn out the chilled dough. Roll the dough to 1/4 in thickness and cut out your cookies using a gingerbread man cookie cutter or any cutters you choose.

My little chocolate-ginger elf.

If you find the dough is too sticky, add several tablespoons of flour to the dough and knead it until combined and try again. Repeat this until the dough is easier to work with. Place on cookie sheets lined with parchment paper or coated with cooking spray an inch apart. Sprinkle them with dusting sugar or edible glitter (I used glitter made from egg whites).


Bake at 350 degrees for 8-10 minutes. If you can avoid over baking them, you'll be left with soft cookies.

Simple. Lovely. Delicious.

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1000 Gifts Continued

I continue to journal those things I am thankful for. Being thankful has a snowball effect. One thankful thought leads to another which leads to another which leads to yet another. I know I'm thankful. What I am learning through this process, though, is that I have every reason to be more so. I find myself being pulled into this sea of gratefulness, overcome with emotion, realizing how out of touch I really am for all I am entrusted with.

23) For reliable transportation
26) For the means to seek and obtain quality medical care
28) For the desire and motivation to lead a healthy life
33) For Miriam's first tooth
35) For the desire to forgive (which stems from knowing that I, too, am forgiven)
38) For the $5 Bible that fits in my purse
40) For the strength and energy I have every day, even when I've had little sleep
41) For a clear and calm mind
42) For all the ways life is easy right now and
43) for knowing that if and when life gets really hard, Lord, You'll walk along side me

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Possibly The Ultimate Comfort Food: Pumpkin Pasta

We've said goodbye to crisp green salads and fresh tomatoes for the year. I've stopped taking monthly garden pictures because there isn't much to show- just brown stems and weeds and some very happy chickens who once again have free garden access. Instead of taking a walk to the garden to find dinner ingredients, I head into the pantry, the freezer and the un-heated mudroom. This is where meals originate this time of year.

My cravings for wintry, comfort foods have started even though we've seen little signs of winter. I crave pot pies, tomato soup with grilled cheese, cookies, scones, soups and breads. One of my favorite comfort foods has always been macaroni and cheese. Mac and cheese and I go way back. The older of my younger two sisters and I routinely found ourselves on a mission in our mother's kitchen, at all manner of odd times of day, hovering over the pot of boiling pasta from the yellow and blue box of store-bought macaroni and cheese. A lot of bonding went on over those pots of boiling pasta and yellow and blue boxes.

My tastes have matured a bit. My body does not miss the preservatives and whatever else finds it's way into those boxes that shouldn't. I've been pretty successful in finding some delicious made-from-scratch macaroni and cheese recipes. Yes, I have. And, yet... along with those recipes comes a heck of a lot of butter and cheese. Now, wait. Don't get me wrong here. Butter and cheese are good. They are delicious. But, I'm going to let you in on a little secret....

I think I've found something better. I'm thrilled to introduce you to a recipe that exudes comfort like I used to think only macaroni and cheese could and yet it lacks the (butter and cheese) guilt. This dish is creamy, full of flavor and, dad gum it, it's good for you.

I came across this recipe years ago and made it a couple of times. It was okay, but I thought it could be so much more. This past week, leftover night found me with no leftovers. Sadie begs for "noonles" every night, so to appease her and to attempt to fulfill my dreams for this recipe, I tried to add what I thought was missing.

It worked and I am in love.


Pumpkin Pasta (adapted from Everyday Food, December 2005)
Serves about 8

1 pound pasta (the choice is yours)
1 tbsp. olive oil
2-4 handfuls of chopped fresh or frozen spinach, kale or swiss chard (I used chard this time)
3 1/2 cups cooked and pureed butternut squash or pumpkin (not pumpkin pie filling)
3 1/2 cups chicken or vegetable broth
2-3 tbsp. pesto (or 2 ice-cube-tray pesto cubes)
2 tbsp. cornstarch
2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. ground pepper
1/2-3/4 cup Parmesan cheese
1/2 cups sliced almonds

Cook the pasta according to the directions, drain and set aside. While the pasta is cooking, in a large skillet or pot, saute the spinach (or kale or chard) in the oil until it has wilted but hasn't turned brown. Add the squash puree, vegetable (or chicken) broth and pesto, stirring to combine everything. Bring the sauce to a gentle boil. In a small bowl, measure out cornstarch. Add one cup of the simmering sauce to the cornstarch and stir well with a fork until the cornstarch has dissolved. Add this back into the sauce pan and continue stirring until the sauce has thickened slightly.


Remove the sauce from the heat and stir in Parmesan cheese, salt and pepper. Taste it and add more salt if needed. Add the drained and cooked pasta to the sauce and stir gently to coat pasta well.


Pour into a 2 quart baking dish and a 8-inch loaf pan (I'm not sure why this odd amount, please forgive me) greased with cooking spray. Top with almonds. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes or until the top has browned slightly.

Devour. And do not feel guilty.


My notes: One large butternut squash yields almost the exact amount of puree needed for this recipe. Cut the ends off the squash and cut it in half long-ways. Scoop out seeds and lay the squash halves cut-side down into a baking pan of 1 inch water. Bake squash at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes or until a knife inserted glides in with little resistance. Let the squash cool slightly. Drain off the water and scoop the squash from the shell and place it into a bowl. Using a potato masher, mash the squash until it resembles puree. If you have an immersion blender, use it to puree the squash completely. If you don't, do not worry- this will still be amazing. I baked two squash at once and now have the exact amount of puree needed for another recipe waiting for me in the freezer.

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Homeschool Highlights: November

Where, may I ask, did November go? Did you see it? Can you tell me which way it went?

Well, it's evidently come and gone. What did we do school-wise in November? What do we have to show for the month? There's math worksheets completed, Bible passages turned to and read, spelling words and rules learned, nouns and pronouns identified, George Washington studied, The Declaration of Independence discussed, tricorn hats made, nests and nests and more nests read about, chapters and chapters of read-alouds, a homemade bow and arrow, pencil drawings of birds sketched....

This month was good. Not frilly. No shoes were knocked off. No one leaped from their chair (except to retrieve the ever-escaping pencil). Reading, copy work, narration, dictation, conversation and a little complaining. Homeschooling can be an adventure. It can be exciting, tantalizing and fascinating. Often, it's just work. The ins and outs of lessons learned, work completed, pages turned, books opened, proofreading, dolling out stickers, praising, redirecting, redirecting and redirecting.


It's a good lesson for all of us. Sometimes life is work- taking one step at a time, finishing tasks and moving on. Always moving closer to the finish. Not always exciting, but always progress.

At the end of this month, as if she knew her mama could use a highlight, Sadie learned to write her name. Bless her little heart. She wrote it again and again and again and again. Progress, I tell you. Progress.

November...four out of five pencils. Pin It

Haman's Ears

This recipe comes from the most unlikely of places...the back of a Bible study workbook. Our women's Bible study group at church just finished Beth Moore's study on the book of Esther. Appropriately for the subject, the study ended with this cookie recipe. This pastry is enjoyed as part of the celebration of Purim. Anyone who wants to celebrate God's deliverance can join in and partake.


Throughout the Bible study, I knew the recipe was in the back and I intended to try it. Then, on the last night, one of the women in the group brought in some to share. She had used the Bible study recipe. They were delicious. Oh, my. A buttery crunch at the edges, soft towards the middle, and then an explosion of flavor at the center. These cookies are very good.

My intention was to wait until after Thanksgiving and make these as one of the few Christmas cookies I will make this year. I only lasted two days after tasting them. My attempts at freezing half of them (the recipe makes a lot) have gone down the drain. Jamey and I cannot keep our hands out.

Haman's Ears (Hamantashen, from Beth Moore's Study on Esther)
makes 3 dozen or so
make dough the night before if you can

2 sticks butter, softened
2 cups sugar
2 large eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
4 tsp. baking powder
2 cups whole wheat flour
2 cups white all-purpose flour
fruit preserves or butters (traditionally poppy seed and prune, but any will do)

Cut butter into sugar (using mixer) and blend thoroughly. Add eggs, vanilla and beat well. Add baking powder and then flours 1/2 cup at a time, blending thoroughly between each. Put the batter in the fridge for a few hours or overnight. Roll out the dough to 1/4 inch thickness and cut out circles using a cookie cutter or drinking glass (diameter should be at least 3 inches). Put 1 tsp.-1 tbsp. of preserves or fruit butter in the center of each circle.


Fold in three sides to form a triangle, overlapping the sides as much as possible so only a little filling shows through the center. Pinch the end (points) closed. Bake on greased baking sheets for about 10-15 minutes at 375 degrees or until lightly browned.


My notes: If you're unable (or unwilling) to let the dough chill for several hours before forming cookies, place the cookie sheets holding the unbaked cookies in the fridge for 10 minutes before baking. This helps the cookies hold their shape versus flattening out when baked. I used strawberry jam, peach jam and apple butter for the fillings. They freeze very well.

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Thanksgiving

Overwhelmed I am, by all we have to be thankful for. I could start streaming off blessing after blessing, but I'll reserve those for my 1000 Gifts Journal. We just returned home from a 6-day trip of visiting family- both families. Yet another thing to be thankful for. Not only do we live within driving distance of our families, they live less than two hours apart from each other. This allows us to spend equal time between the two. We did not know this when we first laid eyes on each other many years ago at a college in another state.

A few glimpses of the Thanksgiving table....





What do I mostly talk about here? FOOD. My, you have been paying attention. So I must tell you what we had for our family's Thanksgiving Day meal...turkey (36 pounds of it), mashed potatoes, candied sweet potatoes, stuffing, gravy, corn souffle, broccoli casserole, cheesy carrots, cranberry jello salad, oatmeal rolls (with butter and jam), pickled beets, chow chow and applesauce. And I may very well be forgetting something. Then, a couple hours later, came dessert...pecan pie, ground cherry pie, traditional pumpkin pie, pumpkin-caramel-pecan pie (not it's real name), chocolate swirl cake, fruit salad and, I'm guessing, five different flavors of ice cream.





Hibernation was really in order. But, alas, no. There was much too much visiting, holding each others' children, looking at photo books, playing spy with boy cousins, swinging, playing soccer until dark, spotting her very first tooth poking through, pulling that baby into our bed because a pack 'n play is just not the same and making the drive home to hang stockings and put candles in the windows.

Advent is here. He's coming. Pin It