Of Her Cake

Our little girl turns four tomorrow.  Four years old.  On the one hand it's hard to believe it's been four years already.  On the other, I've been mentally (and sometimes physically) referring to her as a four-year-old for a couple of months now, so it almost feels like we're past this point already.

Either way, the point is now that she's finally old enough to remember her birthdays, at least a little (who am I kidding, she's been detailing all of her trip to the zoo on her third birthday for months - I think this girl remembers the moment she was born, really), I've been all aflutter trying to make it something worth remembering, at least a little.

I want her birthday to be done her way, within reason.  Fortunately, for a four-year-old who hasn't watched "My Super-Sweet-Fourth-Birthday-Party", her way is rather simple - a trip to the dollar store for some balloons and party blowers was pretty much all it took.

Well, that and the afternoon of creating a strawberry birthday cake in the form of Belle.

The cake in the beginning process - isn't that a beautiful color?

Batter all ready - it makes me happy.

Home-made whipped cream filling.

Putting the layers together - I may have gotten a little fancy for the parts that would be hidden.

All ready to get dressed.

Her Daddy undertook the task of decorating this one (which is nice because I can't create a beautiful baked good to save my life), but my faulty engineering created quite the challenge.

Also creating quite the challenge - this is maybe the fourth cake either of us has ever decorated.  We're not working with much experience here - we're all about hands-on experimenting.

Going to town.  The icing wasn't exactly a sculptor's dream, but we went with the original recipe that was included with the cake.

Almost done - personally, I think she's pretty darn good considering all that was working against us. 

She's not winning any contests, but she sure does look nice in her party dress.

His work of art.  Micaiah's daddy sure does love her.

In the end, I had to remind both of us that she's four.  And the fact that she has a cake with a brunette doll sticking out the top wearing a bright yellow icing dress is still pretty much the most exciting thing in the world.  So what if it looks like it's melting off her or we're avoiding looking at the back?

Four-year-olds, we remember, are extremely easy to please.  And if all else fails, we'll distract her with the shiny pink Disney Princess balloon.  That'll do the trick.

1,000 Gifts:
861. Bright pink cake batter
862. Cake tasting like Fruity Pebbles
863. Fruit dipped in Chocolate-Peanut-Butter Yogurt
864. Quality time with those to whom we live closest
865. The awaited text
866. Buying birthday surprises
867. Her petting a cow
868. A morning at the fair with my precious little ones
869. Her building a sand castle
870. A mellow mood

Of the Whole Thirty

Four days ago, I sent my husband a link (yes, I may have been sitting on the couch with my laptop while he was working at his desk a mere three feet behind me) and asked, "How much would you hate me if I said I wanted to try this?"  Used to this kind of craziness from me, he didn't look too thrilled, but he also refrained from offering too much negativity.  Still, I wasn't quite sure I was dedicated enough for the task.

Yesterday, after a weekend of the entire family feeling kind of crummy, he finally admitted, "Maybe we do need to try that Whole 30 thing.  My body would probably appreciate that."

And, thus, it began.

So, after a day and a half of research, I now have a meal plan in place for 22 of the next 30 days (figuring to fill in those final eight as we discover what works and what doesn't).  And we're doing this thing.

Thirty days of eating nothing but the basics.  Meat.  Vegetables.  Fruit.  Healthy fats.  Nuts.  The end.

No grain.

No dairy.

No sugar.

At all.

So, of course, we've spent the evening digging into the Blue Bell "Christmas Cookies in July" I bought on Friday, before I realized what we would be doing to ourselves only five days later.  My rationale, as I dipped into the half gallon for my afternoon snack was, "In a month, I won't even want ice cream and I'd hate to pass up the opportunity to at least try this." See?  I'm totally thinking clearly right now.

We'll see what a month of "whole" eating does to that clarity of thought.

1,000 Gifts:
721. The comfort to splurge
722. Taking my health seriously
723. Planning a trip to the museum
724. Dreaming of the future
725. Wildfires drowned out
726. The promise of rain in the dry heat

Photo from the Weekend: Driving to Tulsa on Friday, the smoke from nearby wildfires attempted to blot out the sun.  Eerie, but beautiful.

Of Bread

As referenced previously, I have recently undertaken the task of being my family's sole bread provider.  And when I say that, I mean it literally - as in I'm the only one making bread for our family, not some factory somewhere (which has given a whole new appreciation for the invention of sliced bread, though I'm still good with slicing our own when I know what's been put in it).

My first accomplishment in regular bread making was a honey-wheat loaf with which my husband fell in love instantly - touting the wonders of this fresh bread straight from the warmth of our own oven.  He could eat it every day, he said, and he especially loved the idea of making sandwiches with his new wheat friend.  Yes, he was definitely infatuated with this bread.

But then . . .

After partaking of the deliciousness of some home-made Italian bread from church friends, I discovered my own recipe.  I had never before considered the possibility of creating Italian bread in my very own kitchen.  And it turns out the affection my man had for that wheat bread was nothing but pure puppy love.  His feelings for the Italian variety?  These run deep.

Suddenly old wheat is nothing to him, tossed aside for a younger, sleeker model.  When I recently mentioned I'd be making more bread, he eagerly asked which kind.  I noted we needed more for sandwiches, so I'd be making the wheat.  To which he replied, "Well, I like sandwiches on the other, too."

Yep, wheat might as well be chopped liver.

In noting my disdain at his so easily tossing aside what had previously been like heaven-on-earth for him, his response was, "You're lucky I haven't met any Italian girls."

And when, during our date this evening, he partook in the soft, fluffy variety of bread at a local Italian restaurant, he mentioned it was a good thing I didn't have a recipe for that or he might be just as fickle toward his newer passion.

What I'm really thinking is I'm lucky I'm not a loaf bread.


1,000 Gifts:
384. The thrill of the hunt.

385. Date night with my man.

386. Bed-time stories with my boys.

387. Friendship re-kindled.
388. A stranger who chooses to be gracious and forgiving rather than bitter and hostile.
389. Overwhelming options (especially when it comes to dessert).


My Life: My Breakfast
Special K (Fruit & Yogurt variety) and scrambled eggs - the breakfast of champions (or stay-at-home moms).

Of Toddler Theology (and a Photo Memoir)

On the way to church this morning, this was Micaiah's narrative:

"Jesus protected me from the scary dark.  And the angel come and the angel tell Jesus, 'We will be friends and we will protect 'Caiah.' And I have a dream about the angel and Jesus and God, but I can't see the angel and Jesus and God."

Theology from a three-year-old.  Never ceases to amaze me.

And as I promised pictures from yesterday, here are just a few:

I love this sleep pose all babies seem to have.  Just so relaxed, surrendering to sleep.

Dinner: Chilled Strawberry Soup and Oatmeal Sandwich Cookies (which I found in a magazine and can't find on-line, or I'd include the link, but they were pretty good, with oatmeal, applesauce, carrots and raisins they feel semi-healthy - which the cream cheese does a decent job of counteracting).

Micaiah's head o' curls post-bath.  I LOVE them.

 Pre-rolling-over, this was Joey holding his head up high.  Such a big boy!

1,000 Gifts:

145. Micaiah's sweet voice singing a variety of children's songs at the breakfast table.
146. The Word of God in my language.
147. A banner for every season.
148. "Holey" jeans, well-worn.
149. Pink-studded sandals on tiny feet.
150. A library full of hand-me-down books gathered to bless others.


Taking Time for Play: Teal
I was at a loss until I noticed this shelf on my entertainment center just before posting here.  It's one that was originally designed around the teal theme of some of my found objects but has now lost much of it's teal-ness, except for these two last remnants.

Of R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I absolutely love the Amplified Bible.  It has a way of breaking down and delving into the meanings of the words, putting all of it right there together in the verse, giving much more depth to what one is reading.  It can be a bit wordy and difficult to follow because of all the supposed bunny trails, but if you're wanting an in-depth look into one small chunk, I would recommend checking out the verses, first, in your preferred translation and, second, in the Amplified (and, third, in The Message, to give an even further dimension).

My women's Bible study at church has been focusing on contentment and this week's challenge is finding contentment in our relationships.  As far as our relationship with our husband, this contentment is clearly to be found in understanding our role as a wife and learning to do that well.

A key verse for this kind of study is typically Ephesians 5:33, "However let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband."  There is really so much to be understood from that one small verse, but today, in reading the Amplified version, I found so much more meat, a blueprint, really, for how to love my husband fully.

"However, let each man of you [without exception] love his wife as [being in a sense] his very own self, and let the wife see that she respects and reverences her husband [that she notices him, regards him, honors him, prefers him, venerates, and esteems him; and that she defers to him, praises him, and loves and admires him exceedingly]." (Ephesians 5:33 AMP, emphasis added)

Wow!  So much meaning hidden in that tiny command to respect and reverence our husbands (which, let's be honest, can be a challenge in and of itself).  Respect can sometimes be a vague concept and this breakdown provided by the Amplified Bible really puts walking shoes on how we are to live it out.

Sometimes we may defer to our husband and consider that alone as respecting him, but in my deference, am I praising his decisions and making certain he knows I love him and admire him exceedingly?  Or other times I lean more toward being sure he knows I love him deeply, but not trusting him to lead.  Respect is such a dynamic concept and we need to be sure we are living this command fully.

I know these words have challenged me today to love my husband in the way he deserves, as ordained by God himself.

1,000 Gifts:
127. Full instructions on how to love my husband completely.
128. My daughter reciting her first memory verse.
139. Breakfast devotions with an engaged three-year-old (and a little boy who wants to be involved, even if he doesn't understand).
130. Remembering my real "job" is being a mother - and that might mean playing a game and learning not to let it bother me when she doesn't understand the rules.
131. Experimenting with foreign foods from old memories.
132. Finally cleaning out a closet that was well overdue.


Taking Time for Play: Relaxation
That man I love so much enjoys watching Godzilla cartoons on Netflix with all three of his little ones.

My new recipe for the day: Borscht!  Buying the beet for this the other day brought to mind references from both "Doug" and "The Office."  "Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica!"  But it all looks so pretty getting ready to be boiled.  

And the end result was pretty good - maybe not something I'll make again (it wasn't fabulous enough for the amount of work that went into it), but I'm glad I ventured out in our meal plans.

Of Fondue-ing It

*If you're only interested in a midwife update, skip to the bottom, otherwise, read on!

I realized only a couple of days after picking up my first Food Co-Op purchase that the additional produce on hand would combine nicely with the best use of Christmas money ever - our new electric fondue pot and Melting Pot cookbook.  Fresh broccoli, apples and cauliflower would dip quite nicely into our first-ever homemade cheese fondue.  And, of course, if we're going so far as to do the appetizer, might as well go the full mile and make the entree as well.

I have been looking forward to this all week, and my mouth has been watering at the thought of dipping my Mojo-style veggies into our own homemade Greek Goddess sauce.

I was not disappointed.

After working together to create the Cheddar Herb and Garlic cheese, we made hot dogs for the kids (just in case - no point in wasting fondue amazing-ness on picky toddlers!) and settled into our dipping.

Oh, and that bread is homemade - we had a really ambitious meal!

Absolutely amazing!  We subbed the alcohol in the recipe with milk (and vinegar), because I don't like the bite of the aftertaste.  It was still pretty delicious!

The most exciting part for me was how much the kids actually enjoyed the meal, as well.  They didn't do any dipping themselves, of course, but Micaiah loved her cheese-covered veggies and, later, the potatoes which had boiled in the Mojo juice for the main dish.  Meanwhile, Emmett loved the meat.  So, a fun and delicious meal everyone enjoys - now that's a rarity in our house and makes me super excited about future family fondue nights!

After we finished our first course, Philip and I left the kids to munch on the leftover carrots and apples while we prepared the entree.  They were incredibly patient as they awaited our return to the table and, really, were quite pleasant throughout the entire meal - they honestly did not seem to mind having to wait for their food while it cooked in the broth.  Anyone who knows our kids and their love for food knows this to be a miracle - these kids like to eat, and they like to eat now!

The main course: beef, chicken, potatoes and broccoli.

Watch that fondue sizzle.  Micaiah kept squealing, "Ah!  Fire!" because of all the steam.  She thought it was hilarious.

So, yes, overall, fondue night was a hit and shall return to our home.  I'm not sure we'll ever be able to muster the splurge for the Melting Pot now knowing how easy it is to re-create the experience.  But I'm not really complaining!

After dinner, just before heading to bed, Micaiah treated us all to dessert - a slice of her wooden Melissa & Doug birthday cake for everyone - complete with sprinkles.  Now, she knows how to finish off a meal!

And for the curious, my midwife appointment went well today.  Baby is still posterior, but seems to always hang out on the sides, meaning he/she is not entirely posterior, it's just that my anterior placenta isn't giving the baby anywhere else to go.  Also, there is still hope for the baby to re-adjust when it hits the pelvic floor.  So, just keep praying!

Of My Sous Chefs

It has always been true that the time during which I prepare dinner is Emmett's roughest time of the day.  Not only is he a snuggler, but he likes to be in on the action and when I am in the kitchen is the one time, guaranteed, that he wants to be held - a task which isn't so feasible when I am working over a hot stove or need both hands - which is every night.  So most evenings, unless I don't need Daddy's help (which frees him to distract our little man), we endure Emmett's fussing until he is in his chair with food in front of him.

It wasn't until recently that I realized, it's not just being close to us that he desires - he just wants to see what's going on.  Thus, I have begun inviting him to stand on the stool which has hitherto been reserved for Sissy - since the age when she first began to desire the same thing.  This being up just high enough to witness the goings-on up above has made these times in the kitchen much more bearable for everyone.

Of course, now we have to pull in a second stool so Sissy isn't left out.  But now they can both happily cook alongside Momma.

Please note in these pictures, Emmett is not actually cooking on a hot stove, but, rather, he is playing with the dirty dishes left over from this morning's breakfast.  I don't know if that makes it better, but at least it's safer than it appears.

Of Doubling Up

While my official "due date" has remained February 6th, our 20-week ultrasound showed our little one as preparing to be ready by February 1st.  I'm not sure if you've looked at a calendar recently (or, you know, remember celebrating the New Year's arrival), but the latter date is less than one month away.  

Less than a month.

I knew this baby was coming, but for some reason, as others continued to inquire about the arrival of our newest and insisted "that's so soon," even in October, I have maintained the feeling that we still had plenty of time.  I knew, though, that when the holiday season had ended, this baby was right around the corner.

And here we are, heading around the corner.  

Yikes.

To prepare for the impending invasion, and also in recognition that a home-birth does not come with room service following the actual birthing process (a fact I will miss about the hospital - I'm a big fan of being lazy in a reclining bed, watching cable television and phoning in my lunch order - sigh), I had announced to my husband that during the month of January we would begin doubling any recipes that could be frozen and saving the extras for baby's arrival.

Today was the first day - the first real moment of knowing we were counting down the days - to cook that little extra in preparation.

Note to self: the Crockpot was not made for a double recipe of Chili.  Good to know.

PS This recipe is called "Chocolate Chili" because of its secret ingredient: dark chocolate!  We love it!  (Further note, if you try to copy it, I started leaving out the marjoram and coriander after I realized they're just not my kind of flavor.)

Of Rosemary

I love how effective our olfactory nerves are at conjuring forgotten memories.  As I stirred my ground turkey with mixed vegetables for the base of my Shepherd's Pie this evening, I was unexpectedly transported to the dining room of the dorm in which I stayed for the first half of my semester in Russia junior year.

I was standing in the hall outside the entrance, waiting my turn in line as the aroma of dinner wafted out the door.

I was seated at a small table for four, surrounded by walls painted a bright yellow with orange trim in a sad attempt to brighten the room in a way the dim bulbs overhead could not.

I'm going to have to guess Rosemary was a key ingredient to much of the cooking in those Russian meals that semester - as this was one of few recipes I've found which uses the herb, and I strongly doubt it was the pepper or steak seasoning that brought about such a journey down memory lane.

At least I now know which spice jar to turn to when I'm feeling homesick for Mother Russia.

Of the First Thanksgiving

For the curious, my first Thanksgiving (with the help of everyone present) went off without a hitch.  The turkey, though still slightly frozen in the morning, thawed with a little help from some hot water and roasted up beautifully (and, might I mention, with much moistness).  The table, though not very elaborately decorated, looked gorgeous with the bountiful spread, whose leftovers will feed our family for the next week, leaving me grateful for the overwhelming provision of our Lord.

Our children enjoyed the feast as well - Emmett's favorite part was, of course, the most difficult contribution to the meal - or not.  Unless uncanning free (thank you, coupons) jellied cranberries (which were only present for the sake of my in-laws as no adult in this house is a fan) is considered grueling work.  For Micaiah's part, the mashed potatoes were a homerun, but, sadly, neither stirred with excitement at the main dish.

Overall, it was a wonderful day of food, relaxation and family (oh, and some manual labor which lived up the standards of societal gender roles, as the women spent the morning in the kitchen while the men got their hands dirty outside, fixing a gate and setting up a compost pile).

Grateful for days like these to take notice of all we have been given.

Of Omens

Between a bread machine that failed to properly mix the dough for tomorrow morning's cinnamon rolls and two failed chocolate pies for my mother-in-law, here's hoping that the kitchen failures are behind us.  While unexpected bumps make for a humorous (and memorable) holiday, I'd really just rather have some super good food and low stress.

Fingers crossed.

Of a Little Bit of This

Micaiah felt "Baby Sister" move for the first time today (no we still don't know the gender, but Micaiah is insistent).  The joy on her face with each tiny bump was contagious.

Also, I forgot to mention, Saturday was the first time a stranger recognized my pregnant state.  I always feel this is a big milestone.  It means the world at large can see I am with child and not necessarily overeager at the local buffet.

Unrelated to Baby, tonight's meal on my weekly menu listed "Meatloaf and Mashed Potatoes" and just as I was about to dig out my old recipe I remembered this recipe* I had pulled out of my Woman's Day magazine last month and decided, why not be festive?  So it's what we (and by "we" I mean "I") did.  And it made me happy.

*I used cut-up green beans for the eyes as I didn't want to open a can of peas.  I also used 1lb of turkey rather than the called-for meats.

Of Pumpkin

It was only a year or so ago I first opened my distinguished palate to the fine flavors of pumpkin - in any form.  Thus, having missed out on this autumn wonder for so many years of my life, I have made it my mission this fall to discover all the wonderful forms of pumpkin I can find.

And Pinterest is aiding me in my glorious task.

This weekend, as we had company in the house to aid in the consumption of any pumpkin endeavors, I undertook my first project: Pumpkin Cookies.  And boy was I a fan.  Although the sugar-overload of the icing does not allow me to enjoy more than one tiny cake-like cookie at a time, I'm definitely appreciating these little wonders.

I was also able to recently partake of Sonic's Pumpkin Pie Shake, so giddy to finally share in the joy so many others have expressed this time of year when restaurants begin to break out the seasonal fare.  And if that shake is any indication of what I have been missing out on, I am so ready for more.

Bring on the pumpkin!