Or, www.chocolatecoveredkatie.com's cauliflower cake vs. www.healthyindulgences.net's black bean cake
Both looked fabulous in pictures, and had gushy reviews, so we gave them a shot and had a taste test, before handing out the blood red velvet not healthy at all cake for my 3rd son's birthday. In a survey of 10 voting children and 2 voting parents, the bean cake won 11 to 1.
Sorry to say for Katie, we threw most of her's away. It is possible I didn't add enough stevia, so it was pretty dark, but it just honestly never stopped tasting or smelling like cauliflower. She said her boyfriend said it was the best chocolate cake he'd ever eaten, but I'm thinking it must have been a new boyfriend, or something. Normally, I really love the stuff on her website. (Homemade larabars!!)
H.I.'s bean cake was good, it's half gone. However, it is a case in point of the concept that not everything called 'healthy' is equally healthy. Katie's cake contains spelt flour, cauliflower, flax, and xylitol, frosted with almond butter and pure maple syrup primarily. Although too much nut butter has a lot of fat, it also has protein and therefore some nutritional value. H.I.'s cake had, in addition to the black beans, 5 eggs and 6 tbs coconut oil, with a STICK of butter in the frosting! Not something you can really feel good about eating. Katie says 'healthy' and means vegan and of nutritional value, H.I. says 'healthy' and means low carb and gluten free. For the long run of life, I know Katie's cake is healthier. But it's cake, and cake has to taste good.
I've been trying lots of healthy foods. Some you eat because they're good for you. Some you eat because you're hungry. But cake has to be something you eat because it's delicious. I might try Katie's frosting on the bean cake sometime, because it was finger-lickin' good.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
The Hobbit
A review from a homeschooling housewife who almost never watches movies
My children have forgotten that this is the day they've been waiting for, the day The Hobbit comes out on DVD, and I will forget to remind them until such time as we have a good opportunity to do something about it. For my part, I am also excited to see it and have it, because I never really enjoy any movie the first time, perhaps even less one that undertakes to represent a beloved book.
Granted, I should have written this review when I first saw it, or I should wait till I see it again, but hopefully my memory holds from the impressions I had then but neglected to write.
In so many ways, The Hobbit was the second cup of tea from a very good bag. Still delicious, but not nearly as much as the first. We have the same wonderful scenery, many of the same actors, some similar musical themes, the same feel. This also shoots us in the foot a little, since some of the players, notably Gandalf, have aged in real life. That cannot be hidden. But I don't think any of us could imagine another Gandalf.
Bilbo, on the other hand, I think we accept almost seamlessly. He is Bilbo. He doesn't like surprises or adventures and did they leave without me?? I don't like the trifling with his motivations, why he did what he did, with the whole, going so the dwarves have a home business. Whatever. They went for the treasure, for pride, for greed. Let's don't try to redeem it. Bilbo didn't go to give the dwarves a home. He went because something rose up in him to be more than he had been, to see if he could be more, or die trying. It was about him, not them.
I didn't care for Agent Smith (from The Matrix) as Elrond in any of the movies. Hugo Weaving is NOT the master of 'The Last Homely House' pictured in the hobbit, nor is it necessary to forever pound on the Elves vs. Dwarves theme at every opportunity. We get it. Dwarves and Elves have issues. K. Thanks. Move along.
I know we need Galadriel to visit because there has to be at least one girl action figure to sell, but, I, yeah, what? Nah.
I loved the trolls, even if they did it without Gandalf throwing his voice.
Main beef, main problem, big deal: in the book, Bilbo happens upon the ring before knowing Gollum exists. In the movie, he is truly a thief. The problem is that Gandalf says later that the reason Bilbo (and later Frodo) is able to give the ring up is because he did not come by it deceitfully. Here, Bilbo does knowingly take what belongs to someone else. That's a big deal.
Who? Jabba the Hutt? In Middle Earth? I know we have to create a series of villians to justify the 3 movies, and have to develop them enough to hate and fear them and wish their demise, but this goblin king was not my fave. I guess I think of the Hobbit's goblins as dirtier, battier, more demonic dark sooty things that would get you inky and dirty if you touched them. These fat white albino goblins with big eyes are just weird.
I love the variety among dwarves. They are not all the same after all. I was surprised to really like a too young Thorin and a too old Balin. But Bombur was not believable, and many of the dwarves cutesy hair was too, too much.
The 'battle' scenes felt like a video game and the whole thing was geared for the 3D glasses I didn't wear. In short, I think the market being pursued was the younger, gaming crowd that hasn't read the book and wasn't old enough to see the trilogy in theatres, knowing that all the rest of us suckers will show up because Middle Earth feels like home to us and Gandalf reminds us of our old Gaffer.
It was ok. Not great. But ok, and I get it. They're making money, that's why. That is why hollywood exists, afterall. It was a good piggyback. My hopes are low for the second and 3rd installment of the piggyback, but I can't wait to see what they do with Beorn, and I look forward to more of Radagast - what fun!
And that is my review of the Hobbit, 3 months or so overdue.
My children have forgotten that this is the day they've been waiting for, the day The Hobbit comes out on DVD, and I will forget to remind them until such time as we have a good opportunity to do something about it. For my part, I am also excited to see it and have it, because I never really enjoy any movie the first time, perhaps even less one that undertakes to represent a beloved book.
Granted, I should have written this review when I first saw it, or I should wait till I see it again, but hopefully my memory holds from the impressions I had then but neglected to write.
In so many ways, The Hobbit was the second cup of tea from a very good bag. Still delicious, but not nearly as much as the first. We have the same wonderful scenery, many of the same actors, some similar musical themes, the same feel. This also shoots us in the foot a little, since some of the players, notably Gandalf, have aged in real life. That cannot be hidden. But I don't think any of us could imagine another Gandalf.
Bilbo, on the other hand, I think we accept almost seamlessly. He is Bilbo. He doesn't like surprises or adventures and did they leave without me?? I don't like the trifling with his motivations, why he did what he did, with the whole, going so the dwarves have a home business. Whatever. They went for the treasure, for pride, for greed. Let's don't try to redeem it. Bilbo didn't go to give the dwarves a home. He went because something rose up in him to be more than he had been, to see if he could be more, or die trying. It was about him, not them.
I didn't care for Agent Smith (from The Matrix) as Elrond in any of the movies. Hugo Weaving is NOT the master of 'The Last Homely House' pictured in the hobbit, nor is it necessary to forever pound on the Elves vs. Dwarves theme at every opportunity. We get it. Dwarves and Elves have issues. K. Thanks. Move along.
I know we need Galadriel to visit because there has to be at least one girl action figure to sell, but, I, yeah, what? Nah.
I loved the trolls, even if they did it without Gandalf throwing his voice.
Main beef, main problem, big deal: in the book, Bilbo happens upon the ring before knowing Gollum exists. In the movie, he is truly a thief. The problem is that Gandalf says later that the reason Bilbo (and later Frodo) is able to give the ring up is because he did not come by it deceitfully. Here, Bilbo does knowingly take what belongs to someone else. That's a big deal.
Who? Jabba the Hutt? In Middle Earth? I know we have to create a series of villians to justify the 3 movies, and have to develop them enough to hate and fear them and wish their demise, but this goblin king was not my fave. I guess I think of the Hobbit's goblins as dirtier, battier, more demonic dark sooty things that would get you inky and dirty if you touched them. These fat white albino goblins with big eyes are just weird.
I love the variety among dwarves. They are not all the same after all. I was surprised to really like a too young Thorin and a too old Balin. But Bombur was not believable, and many of the dwarves cutesy hair was too, too much.
The 'battle' scenes felt like a video game and the whole thing was geared for the 3D glasses I didn't wear. In short, I think the market being pursued was the younger, gaming crowd that hasn't read the book and wasn't old enough to see the trilogy in theatres, knowing that all the rest of us suckers will show up because Middle Earth feels like home to us and Gandalf reminds us of our old Gaffer.
It was ok. Not great. But ok, and I get it. They're making money, that's why. That is why hollywood exists, afterall. It was a good piggyback. My hopes are low for the second and 3rd installment of the piggyback, but I can't wait to see what they do with Beorn, and I look forward to more of Radagast - what fun!
And that is my review of the Hobbit, 3 months or so overdue.
Schmoopy and springing forwarder
I am awake, at 6:24 a.m., courtesy of my son, who decided today to spring even further forward and get up at the nearly magical hour of 4:46. Nearly magical, because if it would have been 4:44, it would have been a neat reminder of Isaiah 44:4 and how I belong to the Lord and crap like that. But it wasn't. (Though, in his defense, and His, I'm sure the baby was, in fact, awake at 4:44. I was just hoping he'd go back to sleep. He didn't.) And now, I predict he will go back to sleep right about the time the other babies' internal alarm is set to begin their conquest and destruction of the planet.
I'm pondering, of all things, the whole grace/law mystery. Is it possible that God, and Jesus, and let's throw the Holy Spirit in there too, is it possible that He/They really like/love/accept/see me the same, at the end of the day, the same if I am good as if I am bad? That whether I read my whole Youversion Bible allotment and am kind to my children and they get all their stuff done and I make homemade soup and bread and walk the dog and he actually poops and I use cloth diapers (on the babies, that is) and rinse them right away and make my bed and run on the treadmill and lose 60 lbs, or I'm a slacker and don't do any of those things, He likes and loves me the same?
Because I trip on the verses that say things like (and I'm honestly quoting an old Petra song here, not the actual Bible, but THEY were quoting the Bible, so that's almost the same) how can (how can) we who are dead to sin live any longer therein. The real verses are in Romans. I grew up hating Romans. I don't get it. Or when I do, it's for a fleeting moment. Then it's gone. This is obviously not one of those moments, now, is it? No.
I've always, I think, been addicted. So happens I'm addicted to eating now. At least I think I am. I have these triggers. When I eat one of them, sweet things or bread mostly, I forget completely that I ever wanted to eat healthy or be thin or strong or a good example to my children, and all I want to do is eat everything in the world, or at least within walking distance. Hence the fatness.
And I really do think it's a spiritual issue. I am supposed to be dead to sin, but I'm walking therein! There are lots of verses, Old and New Testament, about the appetite and the god of our bellies, (end of Phil. 3), and I believe I have heard abundantly clearly from God to KNOCK IT OFF, stay away from the triggers, and eat healthy and glorify Him with my body. If I don't do that, it's sin, right? If He tells me what to do and I don't do it, I'm pretty sure that's sin.
So how can He like me?
(the baby is back asleep, other babies still asleep, but hubs is up now, opportunity for snuggles is gone, besides, I'm in the middle of a ponder here)
My sin continues to separate me, although I know and He knows and you know He already done died on the cross for it. I know (we all know) that it's me that does the separatin'.
I just can't understand how He can like me!!! I can't. I don't. Why does He want to be with me when I screw up every day all the time? Why does He want to be my friend? I wouldn't.
I am reading the book Wild Love by my friend Chris DuPre. (He really is my friend, not just on Facebook). He says, roughly, that our capacity to love cannot go beyond how much we perceive God's love for us. I think maybe I perceive His love. It's His 'like' that I struggle with.
And so I struggle with everyone else's like as well. My husband, my friends, whoever. I don't like me, I don't know why God would like me, why the heck would you?
I think you find what you look for in people, and that may be the key here. It is possible that when He looks at me, He is not looking for the sin. It's there. It's just not what He's after. What I imagine He is after is my heart. Funny, we sing that to Him, "I am after Your heart, I'm after You." It's like that old (stupid) Seinfeld episode (which, maybe I didn't see but only heard about) where Jerry has met his match, Jeanine with-the-long-last-name-like-Galapogos-turtle-but-that's-not-it, and they make googoo eyes and have mock arguements about who loves who the most, saying over and over to everyone's annoyance, "You're schmoopy, no you're schmoopy."
I am after His heart, only to find He's after mine. It's a mystery. A big fat schmoopy mystery.
I'm pondering, of all things, the whole grace/law mystery. Is it possible that God, and Jesus, and let's throw the Holy Spirit in there too, is it possible that He/They really like/love/accept/see me the same, at the end of the day, the same if I am good as if I am bad? That whether I read my whole Youversion Bible allotment and am kind to my children and they get all their stuff done and I make homemade soup and bread and walk the dog and he actually poops and I use cloth diapers (on the babies, that is) and rinse them right away and make my bed and run on the treadmill and lose 60 lbs, or I'm a slacker and don't do any of those things, He likes and loves me the same?
Because I trip on the verses that say things like (and I'm honestly quoting an old Petra song here, not the actual Bible, but THEY were quoting the Bible, so that's almost the same) how can (how can) we who are dead to sin live any longer therein. The real verses are in Romans. I grew up hating Romans. I don't get it. Or when I do, it's for a fleeting moment. Then it's gone. This is obviously not one of those moments, now, is it? No.
I've always, I think, been addicted. So happens I'm addicted to eating now. At least I think I am. I have these triggers. When I eat one of them, sweet things or bread mostly, I forget completely that I ever wanted to eat healthy or be thin or strong or a good example to my children, and all I want to do is eat everything in the world, or at least within walking distance. Hence the fatness.
And I really do think it's a spiritual issue. I am supposed to be dead to sin, but I'm walking therein! There are lots of verses, Old and New Testament, about the appetite and the god of our bellies, (end of Phil. 3), and I believe I have heard abundantly clearly from God to KNOCK IT OFF, stay away from the triggers, and eat healthy and glorify Him with my body. If I don't do that, it's sin, right? If He tells me what to do and I don't do it, I'm pretty sure that's sin.
So how can He like me?
(the baby is back asleep, other babies still asleep, but hubs is up now, opportunity for snuggles is gone, besides, I'm in the middle of a ponder here)
My sin continues to separate me, although I know and He knows and you know He already done died on the cross for it. I know (we all know) that it's me that does the separatin'.
I just can't understand how He can like me!!! I can't. I don't. Why does He want to be with me when I screw up every day all the time? Why does He want to be my friend? I wouldn't.
I am reading the book Wild Love by my friend Chris DuPre. (He really is my friend, not just on Facebook). He says, roughly, that our capacity to love cannot go beyond how much we perceive God's love for us. I think maybe I perceive His love. It's His 'like' that I struggle with.
And so I struggle with everyone else's like as well. My husband, my friends, whoever. I don't like me, I don't know why God would like me, why the heck would you?
I think you find what you look for in people, and that may be the key here. It is possible that when He looks at me, He is not looking for the sin. It's there. It's just not what He's after. What I imagine He is after is my heart. Funny, we sing that to Him, "I am after Your heart, I'm after You." It's like that old (stupid) Seinfeld episode (which, maybe I didn't see but only heard about) where Jerry has met his match, Jeanine with-the-long-last-name-like-Galapogos-turtle-but-that's-not-it, and they make googoo eyes and have mock arguements about who loves who the most, saying over and over to everyone's annoyance, "You're schmoopy, no you're schmoopy."
I am after His heart, only to find He's after mine. It's a mystery. A big fat schmoopy mystery.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Already waiting
I have this in my heart for a family who recently lost their baby boy, and so many others who have lost their little ones during this season. I'm not saying I know how it feels. This is just part of my heart's response to the grief I feel for them and imagine for my own son.
My son you will never know hunger
My son you will never know pain
My son you will never be lonely for anyone in
The beauty of the Lamb
My son you will never know sorrow
My son you will never feel shame
My son you will never be addicted to anything but
The light of Jesus' face
And though it breaks my heart each day
Since you left my empty arms
Still it would be worse to have to face eternity without you
I know that I'll see your face
Forever when I come home
You'll already be waiting there
My child so many things I wish for you
Now will never ever happen
But the thing I wish for you more than anything else
That thing you already have
And though it breaks my heart each day
Since you left my empty heart
Still it would be worse to have to face eternity without you
I know that I'll see your face
Forever when I come home
You'll already be waiting there
How great is the loss, having had you in my womb, my heart, my hands
All empty now without you
How desperate my sadness, if any that I have here breathing with me
Live lives full of years but empty of their Savior
My son, I am jealous for your laughter
My son, I am aching for your smile
My son, I am lonely to hold you in my arms but I know I will
I just have to wait a little while
And though it breaks my heart each day
Since you left my empty heart
Still it would be worse to have to face eternity without you
I know that I'll see your face
Forever when I come home
You'll already be waiting there
Until then
You're already waiting there
My son you will never know hunger
My son you will never know pain
My son you will never be lonely for anyone in
The beauty of the Lamb
My son you will never know sorrow
My son you will never feel shame
My son you will never be addicted to anything but
The light of Jesus' face
And though it breaks my heart each day
Since you left my empty arms
Still it would be worse to have to face eternity without you
I know that I'll see your face
Forever when I come home
You'll already be waiting there
My child so many things I wish for you
Now will never ever happen
But the thing I wish for you more than anything else
That thing you already have
And though it breaks my heart each day
Since you left my empty heart
Still it would be worse to have to face eternity without you
I know that I'll see your face
Forever when I come home
You'll already be waiting there
How great is the loss, having had you in my womb, my heart, my hands
All empty now without you
How desperate my sadness, if any that I have here breathing with me
Live lives full of years but empty of their Savior
My son, I am jealous for your laughter
My son, I am aching for your smile
My son, I am lonely to hold you in my arms but I know I will
I just have to wait a little while
And though it breaks my heart each day
Since you left my empty heart
Still it would be worse to have to face eternity without you
I know that I'll see your face
Forever when I come home
You'll already be waiting there
Until then
You're already waiting there
Friday, March 15, 2013
Super hard week
It began last Thursday. No, Wednesday. Wednesday night, Dad painted the kitchen in preparation for the new floor in the kitchen and dining room. Our dining room is really our school room. Every child has a cubby and a shelf where they keep all their school books and things. We moved everything from the kitchen and dining room to the living room, including the fridge and the first floor toilet, and moved to the attic for a couple days.
The next thing that happened is that people started to get sick. In particular, the three big kids were sick and all had a paper to write from the same reading material and a test to take and speeches to give. There were places to go or not, decisions to make (in some cases I made the wrong one).
But then there were the particulars of what kind of sick everyone was. There were fevers, there was coughing, there were people laying around everywhere. And then the smallest of people had the kind of sickness that requires diaper and pants to be changed every few minutes. 3 people, non stop liquid nasty down the leg.
So no one can find anything, everyone laying around coughing, some puking, fevering, down the legging, and then the dad got sick. And he's pretty much dead with fever. Completely incapacitated. And then the dishwasher broke. Again.
Did I mention that I ordered the wrong amount of flooring in the smallish not enough kind of way? Linear footage or something. So it didn't get done, and all the upside downishness never got undone. I still have a fridge and toilet in the living room.
I am desperately clinging to my health. There are only 2 of us, out of 15, who have not been sick yet. If I can just hold on till the dad and big kids feel all better, that will be a win for our team. And if we can get through the Awana games without giving our horrible sickness to our teammates. And it is so hard to eat any thing like healthy when all the helpful people are sick and all the stuff we can't find and the nasty gross diapers to change and the mostly dead hubby to care for. I am absolutely certain that a pbj or a cookie would solve all these problems. Ok, that isn't true. But it is truly hard to eat right on a hard day, or for a week full of hard days.
Bright spot: one of my sons says, "Mom, how can I help you?" Don't be impressed. It is on his chore chart to ask that. I say, "Can you get a towel and dry off these pans and put them away." I forgot to say DISH towel. I also forgot to say CLEAN towel. Oh well. So I washed them again. :)
The next thing that happened is that people started to get sick. In particular, the three big kids were sick and all had a paper to write from the same reading material and a test to take and speeches to give. There were places to go or not, decisions to make (in some cases I made the wrong one).
But then there were the particulars of what kind of sick everyone was. There were fevers, there was coughing, there were people laying around everywhere. And then the smallest of people had the kind of sickness that requires diaper and pants to be changed every few minutes. 3 people, non stop liquid nasty down the leg.
So no one can find anything, everyone laying around coughing, some puking, fevering, down the legging, and then the dad got sick. And he's pretty much dead with fever. Completely incapacitated. And then the dishwasher broke. Again.
Did I mention that I ordered the wrong amount of flooring in the smallish not enough kind of way? Linear footage or something. So it didn't get done, and all the upside downishness never got undone. I still have a fridge and toilet in the living room.
I am desperately clinging to my health. There are only 2 of us, out of 15, who have not been sick yet. If I can just hold on till the dad and big kids feel all better, that will be a win for our team. And if we can get through the Awana games without giving our horrible sickness to our teammates. And it is so hard to eat any thing like healthy when all the helpful people are sick and all the stuff we can't find and the nasty gross diapers to change and the mostly dead hubby to care for. I am absolutely certain that a pbj or a cookie would solve all these problems. Ok, that isn't true. But it is truly hard to eat right on a hard day, or for a week full of hard days.
Bright spot: one of my sons says, "Mom, how can I help you?" Don't be impressed. It is on his chore chart to ask that. I say, "Can you get a towel and dry off these pans and put them away." I forgot to say DISH towel. I also forgot to say CLEAN towel. Oh well. So I washed them again. :)
Brilliance
Today is a special day for me.
I am celebrating a child's birthday. My second son. This is the day I became the mother of sons. Boys. I remember sitting on the couch in sheer ecstacy, watching March Madness WITH MY SONS. (I'm from Indiana. That means basketball. I rarely get to, but always enjoy watching college hoop in the early spring.)
But it goes way beyond that. Today I celebrate the beginning of trusting. The beginning of letting go. The beginning of knowing that what God wants and has for me far supercedes anything I could have imagined.
It is in the Word of God, so I don't know why it surprised me: Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly, abundantly above all that we can ask or think ...
Anyway. I had a plan. The number of kids, the spacing. This child's arrival put the final nail in the coffin of my carefully thought out plan for the future. In a good way. In the best possible way.
In the movie, Hook, there is a line that I like to quote when I think about my children and family planning: What would the world be like without Captain Hook?
What would the world be like without this boy? This expressive, funny, thoughtful, know-it-all boy. This fantastic treasure of blue-eyed, freckled, boy-becoming-man full of passion and thought and opinion and strength and heart. He is simply magnificent in every way. What if I had said no? What if I had had my way and skipped that particular batch of sperm and waited until a less overwhelmed season of life? I would have missed this amazing human, this beautiful soul.
Am I saying people should just throw 'caution' to the wind?
Yes! If you have faith for it. If your body isn't broken. If you are willing to take God at His Word, call every child a blessing, (if you are MARRIED), if you are willing to work hard and let go of what the world values for the sake of what God calls good.
Because this is what I celebrate on March 15th. I have in my world a spectacular son that I would have chosen not to have, and God gave him to me anyway, and I could not be more thankful. And we have received in the years since then, 10 such extravagant bestowments, 10 more wonderful gifts.
I know what you are saying, or at least I could guess.
"You must really love children."
"You have more patience than I do."
"I don't have enough money."
"I wouldn't be able to be a good enough parent for more kids."
I do love MY children. Who doesn't?
My patience has increased, by the grace of God, with each child's arrival. The person I was 10 years ago would not have made it through this past week.
I don't have enough money to do everything I want, but God provides everything I NEED.
Again, I would say, if you say yes to the Lord, every day, He gives you everything you need to do everything He gives you to do.
I know it is a crazy idea. But for evidence, I present to you this day, my second son, my lefty, my stunning, handsome, bellicose, cocky, wreckless, crazy, compassionate, eavesdropping, nibnosing, worshiping, writing, dancing, drumming, constantly learning and fact spouting son.
I could go on for days about this boy. About each of them. Because he is so unique, so special. But so are the other 12.
Will we have more? Oh, I hope so. More of this exquisite deliciousness. More of this brilliance. Because I don't know what I would be missing if I were ever to say no to the Giver of gifts, and He does know. I can trust Him.
Happy Birthday 3rd Blessing.
I am celebrating a child's birthday. My second son. This is the day I became the mother of sons. Boys. I remember sitting on the couch in sheer ecstacy, watching March Madness WITH MY SONS. (I'm from Indiana. That means basketball. I rarely get to, but always enjoy watching college hoop in the early spring.)
But it goes way beyond that. Today I celebrate the beginning of trusting. The beginning of letting go. The beginning of knowing that what God wants and has for me far supercedes anything I could have imagined.
It is in the Word of God, so I don't know why it surprised me: Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly, abundantly above all that we can ask or think ...
Anyway. I had a plan. The number of kids, the spacing. This child's arrival put the final nail in the coffin of my carefully thought out plan for the future. In a good way. In the best possible way.
In the movie, Hook, there is a line that I like to quote when I think about my children and family planning: What would the world be like without Captain Hook?
What would the world be like without this boy? This expressive, funny, thoughtful, know-it-all boy. This fantastic treasure of blue-eyed, freckled, boy-becoming-man full of passion and thought and opinion and strength and heart. He is simply magnificent in every way. What if I had said no? What if I had had my way and skipped that particular batch of sperm and waited until a less overwhelmed season of life? I would have missed this amazing human, this beautiful soul.
Am I saying people should just throw 'caution' to the wind?
Yes! If you have faith for it. If your body isn't broken. If you are willing to take God at His Word, call every child a blessing, (if you are MARRIED), if you are willing to work hard and let go of what the world values for the sake of what God calls good.
Because this is what I celebrate on March 15th. I have in my world a spectacular son that I would have chosen not to have, and God gave him to me anyway, and I could not be more thankful. And we have received in the years since then, 10 such extravagant bestowments, 10 more wonderful gifts.
I know what you are saying, or at least I could guess.
"You must really love children."
"You have more patience than I do."
"I don't have enough money."
"I wouldn't be able to be a good enough parent for more kids."
I do love MY children. Who doesn't?
My patience has increased, by the grace of God, with each child's arrival. The person I was 10 years ago would not have made it through this past week.
I don't have enough money to do everything I want, but God provides everything I NEED.
Again, I would say, if you say yes to the Lord, every day, He gives you everything you need to do everything He gives you to do.
I know it is a crazy idea. But for evidence, I present to you this day, my second son, my lefty, my stunning, handsome, bellicose, cocky, wreckless, crazy, compassionate, eavesdropping, nibnosing, worshiping, writing, dancing, drumming, constantly learning and fact spouting son.
I could go on for days about this boy. About each of them. Because he is so unique, so special. But so are the other 12.
Will we have more? Oh, I hope so. More of this exquisite deliciousness. More of this brilliance. Because I don't know what I would be missing if I were ever to say no to the Giver of gifts, and He does know. I can trust Him.
Happy Birthday 3rd Blessing.
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
Milestone
I weighed less this morning than I have in more than 17 years. It's still not that impressive. I am still, I think, considered morbidly obese. Just over five feet tall and just under two hundred pounds is nothing to brag about, to be sure. But better is good. Less is better than staying the same and WAY better than gaining. Do I feel good? Yes, but I'm still really overweight. It's ok. But I am.
It is hard to imagine thin, hard to picture me that way. I study myself in the mirror now, marveling at my collar bones, trying to find the rest of my neck. The good news is that kids are already used to the nearly 60 pounds less version of me. Old (fat) pictures of me already look wrong to them. That's cool, because maybe the littles won't remember a fat mom at all.
I have ideas about what I'll do when... One thing I want to do is have a "Hundred Pounds" party, and invite everybody I know to come and bring a healthy food to share. But that's still 42 lbs away. In the mean time, I'm about to passing another milestone and I'm not sure how to celebrate. An extra smoothie, perhaps? I don't like shopping, so buying new clothes is more punishment than reward.
I am celebrating with thankfulness, that's for sure. Thankful for my sisters, encouraging me, friends supporting me, husband and older children putting up with my moods and inconsistencies, and especially the steadfast love of the Lord, which never ceases.
So here's to another quart jar of green slime, another bowl full of cold vegetables on a chilly winter day, a comforting bowl of soup that hits the spot that used to be hit by a cheeseburger, a cup of tea that smells better than it tastes, and a piece of thawed out carrot cake that really is completely good for me, and is also completely delicious. Thanks God for good food to eat, the money to buy it, the time to make it, and the good it's doing my body. Help me lean on You more tomorrow than I did today. Amen.
It is hard to imagine thin, hard to picture me that way. I study myself in the mirror now, marveling at my collar bones, trying to find the rest of my neck. The good news is that kids are already used to the nearly 60 pounds less version of me. Old (fat) pictures of me already look wrong to them. That's cool, because maybe the littles won't remember a fat mom at all.
I have ideas about what I'll do when... One thing I want to do is have a "Hundred Pounds" party, and invite everybody I know to come and bring a healthy food to share. But that's still 42 lbs away. In the mean time, I'm about to passing another milestone and I'm not sure how to celebrate. An extra smoothie, perhaps? I don't like shopping, so buying new clothes is more punishment than reward.
I am celebrating with thankfulness, that's for sure. Thankful for my sisters, encouraging me, friends supporting me, husband and older children putting up with my moods and inconsistencies, and especially the steadfast love of the Lord, which never ceases.
So here's to another quart jar of green slime, another bowl full of cold vegetables on a chilly winter day, a comforting bowl of soup that hits the spot that used to be hit by a cheeseburger, a cup of tea that smells better than it tastes, and a piece of thawed out carrot cake that really is completely good for me, and is also completely delicious. Thanks God for good food to eat, the money to buy it, the time to make it, and the good it's doing my body. Help me lean on You more tomorrow than I did today. Amen.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
What I ate to live today:
So I have had like 3 successful days in a row, therefore I'm feeling cocky enough to pretend like I know something about this Eat To Live journey that somebody might want to read. Here's what I ate today:
For breakfast I had a smoothie, and I admit I'm in a rut with this. 3/4 c unsweetened almond milk (Trader Joe's is the cheapest), 3/4 cup pomegranate plum juice (on sale at Aldi), half a bag (5 oz) spinach, 2 cups frozen fruit (strawberries, blueberries, peaches, mixed, whatever), and a banana. I'm out of flax, or I would put that in as well. It's ugly, it's green, it's huge and I eat the whole thing.
For lunch, I had a bowl of my Montreal (cuz I use Montreal Steak seasoning) vegetable beef soup, minus the beef. Green beans, black beans, corn, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, onion, celery, your basic clean-the-fridge, never the same pot twice kind of soup. I also ate a full bowl of Eldest's version of Broccoli Raisin salad, which isn't NEARLY as good without the bacon.
For a snack I had grape nuts with strawberries, blueberries, hemp seed and sliced almonds, and unsweetened almond milk. Yum.
And for supper, it's a Southwestish kind of salad: a huge bowl of romaine, pinto beans (with cayenne and garlic powder), black olives, orange bell pepper, and dressing made with rotel, onion and avocado. Pretty spectacular, huh.
About half the things I make don't work very well and either have to be adjusted, suffered through, or pitched. I hate to throw away healthy, expensive food. I am working out the kinks. But the more I do it right, the better it tastes and feels.
For breakfast I had a smoothie, and I admit I'm in a rut with this. 3/4 c unsweetened almond milk (Trader Joe's is the cheapest), 3/4 cup pomegranate plum juice (on sale at Aldi), half a bag (5 oz) spinach, 2 cups frozen fruit (strawberries, blueberries, peaches, mixed, whatever), and a banana. I'm out of flax, or I would put that in as well. It's ugly, it's green, it's huge and I eat the whole thing.
For lunch, I had a bowl of my Montreal (cuz I use Montreal Steak seasoning) vegetable beef soup, minus the beef. Green beans, black beans, corn, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, onion, celery, your basic clean-the-fridge, never the same pot twice kind of soup. I also ate a full bowl of Eldest's version of Broccoli Raisin salad, which isn't NEARLY as good without the bacon.
For a snack I had grape nuts with strawberries, blueberries, hemp seed and sliced almonds, and unsweetened almond milk. Yum.
And for supper, it's a Southwestish kind of salad: a huge bowl of romaine, pinto beans (with cayenne and garlic powder), black olives, orange bell pepper, and dressing made with rotel, onion and avocado. Pretty spectacular, huh.
About half the things I make don't work very well and either have to be adjusted, suffered through, or pitched. I hate to throw away healthy, expensive food. I am working out the kinks. But the more I do it right, the better it tastes and feels.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Terrible Two
Today my sixth son is 2. He goes by many variations on his name, but mostly I call him Buddy. He has straight blond hair, "moonblinked" blue eyes (from the owl Guardians movie which I have not seen) and today, bright pink cheeks to go with his birthday fever.
His favorite song, the only one he sings, is Happy Birthday. He just sings, "Happy, happy, happy." So it's good that today it really is his birthday. We have had a big snow storm here and were not able to get the presents we waited till the last minute to buy, so sometime today I'll send some big kids scrounging to the attic with the goal of finding some toys he would like but hasn't noticed yet.
And I now have 2 two year olds. They've been 2 for a while, for all practucal purposes, due to the monkeyseemonkeydo factor. And it dawned on me yesterday, again, that concept that has risen to the surface a number of times over the years: if I want to get pregnant again and have more children (and I do) I really ought to stop complaining about the ones I have. Even more, if I honestly want the Lord to give me twins in my old age (and I do) I should stop whining about my 2 Twos.
So this is my rejoicing over the screaming, furniture-markering, diaper-removing, fighting, compulsive-dancing, food-throwing, knee-deep-in-cuteness existence of my too terribly 2 Twos.
Happy, happy, happy, happy!
His favorite song, the only one he sings, is Happy Birthday. He just sings, "Happy, happy, happy." So it's good that today it really is his birthday. We have had a big snow storm here and were not able to get the presents we waited till the last minute to buy, so sometime today I'll send some big kids scrounging to the attic with the goal of finding some toys he would like but hasn't noticed yet.
And I now have 2 two year olds. They've been 2 for a while, for all practucal purposes, due to the monkeyseemonkeydo factor. And it dawned on me yesterday, again, that concept that has risen to the surface a number of times over the years: if I want to get pregnant again and have more children (and I do) I really ought to stop complaining about the ones I have. Even more, if I honestly want the Lord to give me twins in my old age (and I do) I should stop whining about my 2 Twos.
So this is my rejoicing over the screaming, furniture-markering, diaper-removing, fighting, compulsive-dancing, food-throwing, knee-deep-in-cuteness existence of my too terribly 2 Twos.
Happy, happy, happy, happy!
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Sick babies, big kids
Sick babies
Hot
Feverish
Crabby
Snuggley
Coughing
Snotty
Spitting
Thirsty
Whiney
Sad
Tired
Clingy
Grumpy
Sweet
Sick
Babies
Big kids
Worried
Hormonal
Nervous
Depressed
Focused
Distracted
Happy
Sad
Studying
Practicing
Gone
Excited
Goofy
Argumentative
Angry
Forgiving
Tender
Big
Kids
The greatness and agony of my life right now lies in the straddling of these two parallel universes. The small, sick, sad, needy and the big, nervous, emotional needy. The middle kids don't need as much. In fact, they'd just as soon be left alone, so they can play chess or clay or put a half cup of sugar in their tea, avoiding school and chores like the plague, brandishing wooden swords and light sabers and nerf guns with no ammo but still deemed effective because they make that cool poof! sound when you pull the trigger. But the smalls want held and the bigs want to practice their speeches. Little cries and long stories both claim my ears and brain cells. And I don't mind. There's nowhere I'd rather be, nothing I'd rather do. Except maybe fold laundry.
Hot
Feverish
Crabby
Snuggley
Coughing
Snotty
Spitting
Thirsty
Whiney
Sad
Tired
Clingy
Grumpy
Sweet
Sick
Babies
Big kids
Worried
Hormonal
Nervous
Depressed
Focused
Distracted
Happy
Sad
Studying
Practicing
Gone
Excited
Goofy
Argumentative
Angry
Forgiving
Tender
Big
Kids
The greatness and agony of my life right now lies in the straddling of these two parallel universes. The small, sick, sad, needy and the big, nervous, emotional needy. The middle kids don't need as much. In fact, they'd just as soon be left alone, so they can play chess or clay or put a half cup of sugar in their tea, avoiding school and chores like the plague, brandishing wooden swords and light sabers and nerf guns with no ammo but still deemed effective because they make that cool poof! sound when you pull the trigger. But the smalls want held and the bigs want to practice their speeches. Little cries and long stories both claim my ears and brain cells. And I don't mind. There's nowhere I'd rather be, nothing I'd rather do. Except maybe fold laundry.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
On feeling inadequate
Ways I feel inadequate today:
My oldest child has a broken toe, I'm pretty sure. She didn't want to go in when the youngest had a checkup yesterday, and I didn't make her. The doctor said you don't have to bring her in unless the toe is crooked. Well, it is. It is also purplish gray an inch into her foot. But the same toe on the other foot is crooked too, I think the same way. I feel inadequate because I don't know if I should take her in and because I'm pretty sure they can't do anything to fix it.
My youngest daughter ate a cough drop tonight, but for a few frightening moments I was afraid she had drunk half a bottle of benedryl. She came to me with a cough medicine smell on her breath and a sticky hand with the same smell. Scary. I'm imagining ipicac and stomach pumping and trying to keep her awake. S'ok, just a cough drop. But that's where I went.
I feel like my babies' skin does better with disposables, plus I'm about a decade behind on laundry, so I have a whole supply of cloth diapers I'm just storing right now. And I feel bad about that, inadequate.
My children have been listening to Adventures in Odyssey and my husband has been Netflixing The West Wing, both of which (along with ALL television/movies/radio drama/plays/commercials) I cannot handle the suspense of, so I feel emotionally manipulated and not myself. I know it is all made up, but tv stresses me out.
I did about a B- job of eating the way I want to today. There are just honestly moments that I want comfort from food, and even though my comfort is in the Lord, sometimes I forget. And sometimes I make poor choices. It is especially hard to resist the healthyish but not completely beneficial to me food that I make for my kids, things like chocolate whole wheat chia seed zucchini bread and chocolatecoveredkatie.com's totally addictive cornbread.
My baby did not gain the weight my doc and I thought he should since his last check up. This hasn't happened to me in about 7 kids, and even though I've learned a lot since then, part of me just wants to give up and do the bottle thing. On the other hand, if he is the last baby I have, I'd hate to have quit nursing early without a fight.
Fifth daughter has a cough I can't help with, the kind a 3 yr old gets that would be so much better if she just knew how to cough and wasn't afraid to do it, but instead just keeps coughing and puking because she doesn't know how yet. I wish I could cough for her.
Little physical things wear down a mom's confidence, her feeling of 'all's well'. Little character things, lack of discipline, fights between siblings, unforgiveness, do the same.
And I'm back in that place of mistaken identity where I think being a good mom (or wife or human) is about how healthy or diligent or kind my kids are or how organized or thin I am, when in reality, my value is something calculated in the eyes of the One who formed me.
That He can love me and cherish me in that Psalm 139 kind of way, having searched me and known me, my down sitting and my uprising, being intimately acquainted with all my ways, knowing my words, thoughts, actions, and days before there is yet one of them, that escapes me. I spend my life trying desperately to earn love and acceptance THAT I ALREADY HAVE.
I have laughingly considered (laughing because of how very angry it would make my mother) getting a tattoo across the knuckles of my right hand, in Hebrew, "Belonging to the Lord". Isaiah 44 - poplars that spring up like grass, with resiliance, saying belonging to the Lord, written on their hands.
Ok, I'm not getting a tattoo on my hand. But I wish it was written there, to help me remember that before and after and in the midst of everything else, I am His.
What I say, what I do, what I eat and drink and feel. He is intimately acquainted with all my ways. My soul knows it very well.
All to Jesus I surrender
All to Him I freely give
I will ever love and trust Him
In His presence daily live
I surrender all
I surrender all
All to Thee my blesses Savior
I surrender all
Friday, February 15, 2013
For the record,
I have never wanted to be pregnant more. It's that whole biological clock ticking thing, I guess, knowing that all women eventually stop getting pregnant. And being near as some of my dearest friends have lost or are losing babies. And saying goodbye to a friend who finished her race. Life seems so precious and fragile and incredibly desirable/priceless/indescribably wanted - having trouble really saying what I mean to say.
Because I still cherish the 'yes' and the 'no'. If I never conceive again, or if I never give birth again, I am completely and entirely thankful and content and so glad He has been in charge, without contest, for much of my fertile life. I have obviously nothing to complain of.
I just want to go on record as saying that if there is ever to be another person for us sometime, that would be even more wonderful, if that's possible, than all the previous 13, because, I don't know. Because He doesn't HAVE to. He doesn't have to give me anything. He doesn't have to bless me anymore. And if He did, does, would, if, well, yeah, I'm just saying that would be indescribably marvelous.
Because I still cherish the 'yes' and the 'no'. If I never conceive again, or if I never give birth again, I am completely and entirely thankful and content and so glad He has been in charge, without contest, for much of my fertile life. I have obviously nothing to complain of.
I just want to go on record as saying that if there is ever to be another person for us sometime, that would be even more wonderful, if that's possible, than all the previous 13, because, I don't know. Because He doesn't HAVE to. He doesn't have to give me anything. He doesn't have to bless me anymore. And if He did, does, would, if, well, yeah, I'm just saying that would be indescribably marvelous.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
To err is human, to forgive is . . .
a really, really good idea.
Here's why. When you do not forgive, it's like saying to the enemy (and there is one) please come in and mess up my heart really bad. You give the enemy a foothold. Picture a rock climbing wall. The little knobby things you step on - those are footholds. How hard would it be to climb the wall if those weren't there? Hard. If someone were trying to come in the back door and it was closed and locked, it would be hard to come in, right? But if the door was open and someone had their foot in it, a foothold, how much easier would it be? Way easier, right?
We have a real enemy who comes to steal and kill and destroy. The enemy seeks to divide us and drag us off (in unforgiveness) and make us feel depressed and alone. The enemy wants us to take sad or hard things that happen to us, accidentally or on purpose, and dwell on them, and rehearse them, and believe they represent how people and God have and always will let us down.
When we get hurt, and we do, and we will, and if you haven't, let me be the first to warn you that it will happen, we have an opportunity to choose what to do with that pain. We can say, "Jesus, this hurts. Will You please heal me and help me forgive and flood this pain with Your great love for me?" (and then He says YES! every time) OR we can think on it and practice what we would have said and what we will say next time and notice the similarity between this pain and that other pain I felt the last 37 times something sort of similar to this happened and carefully close off the part of heart that got messed up so it WILL NOT GET HURT THAT WAY AGAIN. Not saying don't have boundaries or use wisdom or cross the street with eyes closed carrying lucky cricket. Not saying that. But we have a choice. And when we choose to hold on to the pain instead of asking and letting God help us forgive, we issue an open invitation to the enemy of Jesus and us to come and make himself quite comfortable in our lives. And it just goes downhill from there.
I had a conversation like the above one with my most emotional kids this morning, when they were already at each others' throats before 8:30 a.m. on VALENTINE'S DAY FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. It stemmed from another conversation I had with a friend about where so&so was and how so&so is doing and realizing how many so&so's go away hurt, and thinking, geez, what is it we (the church/body of Christ) are doing, hurting so many people so bad? Well we bump into each other a lot. That's true. But we are just a bunch of redeemed sinners, we're bound to bump into each other. And when I look at some of what we did, hurting each other, I'm not so sure I'd have the wisdom to do it differently if I was walking through it again.
Anyway, I am trying to train my humans to forgive. To have mercy. To bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things. To keep no record of wrongs. Crap like that. Kindness. Kindness is on her tongue. (me, the proverbs 31 woman) I try, from birth, to build love into their relationships with each other.
And I realized, in the aforementioned conversation (it was a great talk), that this marvelous life we have that we did not initially choose (remember my initial plan of 4 kids spaced 3 years apart?) is wonderful in a way I don't think I had figured. Our children have a great fall back system for when things get tough in relationships in the future. Duh, right? My friend explained to me that for him, with just one sister, when his friends made unwise decisions, and he had to take a stand, it was just him - he was alone in it. But my children have each other. Not only for accountability, but also for support. They watch out for each other and stand watch over each other. They guard and buffer.
That is, if I can teach them not to accuse and kill each other.
***
In other news.
I went to the OB today, for that followup checkup that is supposed to happen when baby is 6 weeks old, 'cept that he's 6 months old. I mostly went because I think I broke or fractured or injured my tailbone giving birth, and needed to have him confirm that yeah I probably did and there isn't a dang thing he can do about it. That was confirmed. We also chatted about how statistically I'm past the age of getting pregnant easily, but that God can do anything, look at Sarah and Elizabeth. They were glad to see me and are cheering for me, hoping I'll be back again soon. And I was oh so close to being under the 200 lb weight on the scale. If only my appointment had been in the morning. Or if I had pooped first.
***
I have been pondering, again, getting off the fence in my feeble compromised Nazarite fast and really giving the Lord what I think He wants. I don't want to make a rash vow, like King Saul, "nobody gets any food till we win this battle". Yeah, that was a great idea. I don't want to do that. I don't want to promise something I can't deliver. And the line is really hard to draw. Caffeine, is, well it is pretty simple. Sort of. Not hard coffee. But what about decaf? What about white tea or green tea or chai? What about chocolate - like come cocoa powder in my smoothie? Then there's sugar. Okay, not white sugar. Or brown. But how about honey or pure maple syrup? What about artificial sweeteners? How about agave? Do I eat fruit sweetened things? Fruit juice? You see what I mean? It simply isn't as simple as smoking or not smoking, drinking or not drinking.
But this is what I think God wants, and therefore what I want. I want to not eat the things that are addictive for me. The things that I cannot stop eating once I start. But I have really struggled with how to make that work, from a health perspective, and from a coping perspective. Those are things like: bread, waffles, pancakes, white rice, anything chocolate, most dairy, anything with sugar or artificial sweetener.
I am excited about that Eat to Live book because I feel there is wisdom from God for me in it. It seems to me that the Lord is saying to me, like He said to Adam and Eve, "Here I am giving you all these things to eat, just don't eat from this tree." He has given me all the same things He gave them. He even says, in Proverbs, if you find honey, don't eat too much of it. But I can eat as much as I want of fruits, veggies, beans, and some nuts and seeds and grains (brown rice and steel cut oats are cool). There is freedom in that way of eating, and that way is also, according to all kinds of studies (describe in Fuhrman's book) the very healthiest way to eat. It makes sense - that is what they ate in the garden, and that is the way that studies have shown best prevents the diseases people in wealthy countries die from. In poorer places, people die because their water is not clean or they don't have adequate medical care or enough to eat. But they are eating the right stuff, so they don't die of the stuff that kills us. In wealthier places, we choose to eat what isn't as good for us because it tastes good, is more convenient and we can afford it. We don't die of the stuff that kills them because we have clean water and good medical care. But if we ate the stuff they eat, fruits and veggies and plant products, we could have the best of both worlds, clean water, good medical care, AND healthy food and bodies.
Today is Valentine's Day. I made monkey bread for my kids for breakfast. I had a smoothie (soy milk, pomegranate juice, half a bag spinach, 2 cups frozen fruit, an apple somebody took a couple bites out of and left for dead, a tbs cocoa powder in honor of Saint Valentine, and some vanilla). For lunch I had a gynormous salad (3 kinds of lettuce, kidney beans, walnuts, almonds, yellow bell pepper, shredded carrot (which sort of reminds me of cheese), celery, tomato, broccoli, and Trader Joe's greek dressing). And for dinner we went to my favorite Indian restaurant, where I had chai, veggie palak on rice and naan. And then I shared a sugar free (Simply Lite) chocolate bar from Trader Joe's (in my opinion the best sugar free chocolate) with my valentine.
There were some Valentine style splurges there. But mostly I'll be doing the smoothie, soup, and salad existence. I won't be hungry. I will be satisfied with Jesus and with the food He has given me.
***
This is some of the stuff I haven't been writing about. Sorry for slacking. I just haven't had time. One of my dishwashers is busted (just a couple weeks past the one year warranty - they said I could extend it for $250, OR I CAN BUY ANOTHER DISHWASHER) and my Laundry Pure croaked, still under warranty, so we're washing clothes with soap and hot water again, and guess what?! The clothes are not cleaner, they just smell like soap now. The Laundry Pure really does a better job, I am convinced of it now. I think mine died because of being a refurb. Or maybe because we do a normal family's decade's worth of laundry in 6 months. Anyway, they were very gracious, and I look forward to having it back.
Also, my washer has been on the fritz, stopping half way through a load, and then my 8 and 9 year old laundry helpers put a load of dripping wet clothes and blankets in the dryer and it takes 3 cycles of dryer time to get those dry and ba-da-bing-ba-da-boom, we're grotesquely behind on laundry. Wretched. And I'm still not unpacked completely from two road trips ago.
Another thing taking up a lot of time is all this salad making and cooking I'm trying to do. Making oatmeal and pancakes and homemade stuff takes so much more time than cereal and chicken nuggets. But, I think it's worth it.
***
Okay, I'm feeling somewhat caught up. Do you feel better? I'll try to keep up a little better. Thanks for reading.
Here's why. When you do not forgive, it's like saying to the enemy (and there is one) please come in and mess up my heart really bad. You give the enemy a foothold. Picture a rock climbing wall. The little knobby things you step on - those are footholds. How hard would it be to climb the wall if those weren't there? Hard. If someone were trying to come in the back door and it was closed and locked, it would be hard to come in, right? But if the door was open and someone had their foot in it, a foothold, how much easier would it be? Way easier, right?
We have a real enemy who comes to steal and kill and destroy. The enemy seeks to divide us and drag us off (in unforgiveness) and make us feel depressed and alone. The enemy wants us to take sad or hard things that happen to us, accidentally or on purpose, and dwell on them, and rehearse them, and believe they represent how people and God have and always will let us down.
When we get hurt, and we do, and we will, and if you haven't, let me be the first to warn you that it will happen, we have an opportunity to choose what to do with that pain. We can say, "Jesus, this hurts. Will You please heal me and help me forgive and flood this pain with Your great love for me?" (and then He says YES! every time) OR we can think on it and practice what we would have said and what we will say next time and notice the similarity between this pain and that other pain I felt the last 37 times something sort of similar to this happened and carefully close off the part of heart that got messed up so it WILL NOT GET HURT THAT WAY AGAIN. Not saying don't have boundaries or use wisdom or cross the street with eyes closed carrying lucky cricket. Not saying that. But we have a choice. And when we choose to hold on to the pain instead of asking and letting God help us forgive, we issue an open invitation to the enemy of Jesus and us to come and make himself quite comfortable in our lives. And it just goes downhill from there.
I had a conversation like the above one with my most emotional kids this morning, when they were already at each others' throats before 8:30 a.m. on VALENTINE'S DAY FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. It stemmed from another conversation I had with a friend about where so&so was and how so&so is doing and realizing how many so&so's go away hurt, and thinking, geez, what is it we (the church/body of Christ) are doing, hurting so many people so bad? Well we bump into each other a lot. That's true. But we are just a bunch of redeemed sinners, we're bound to bump into each other. And when I look at some of what we did, hurting each other, I'm not so sure I'd have the wisdom to do it differently if I was walking through it again.
Anyway, I am trying to train my humans to forgive. To have mercy. To bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things. To keep no record of wrongs. Crap like that. Kindness. Kindness is on her tongue. (me, the proverbs 31 woman) I try, from birth, to build love into their relationships with each other.
And I realized, in the aforementioned conversation (it was a great talk), that this marvelous life we have that we did not initially choose (remember my initial plan of 4 kids spaced 3 years apart?) is wonderful in a way I don't think I had figured. Our children have a great fall back system for when things get tough in relationships in the future. Duh, right? My friend explained to me that for him, with just one sister, when his friends made unwise decisions, and he had to take a stand, it was just him - he was alone in it. But my children have each other. Not only for accountability, but also for support. They watch out for each other and stand watch over each other. They guard and buffer.
That is, if I can teach them not to accuse and kill each other.
***
In other news.
I went to the OB today, for that followup checkup that is supposed to happen when baby is 6 weeks old, 'cept that he's 6 months old. I mostly went because I think I broke or fractured or injured my tailbone giving birth, and needed to have him confirm that yeah I probably did and there isn't a dang thing he can do about it. That was confirmed. We also chatted about how statistically I'm past the age of getting pregnant easily, but that God can do anything, look at Sarah and Elizabeth. They were glad to see me and are cheering for me, hoping I'll be back again soon. And I was oh so close to being under the 200 lb weight on the scale. If only my appointment had been in the morning. Or if I had pooped first.
***
I have been pondering, again, getting off the fence in my feeble compromised Nazarite fast and really giving the Lord what I think He wants. I don't want to make a rash vow, like King Saul, "nobody gets any food till we win this battle". Yeah, that was a great idea. I don't want to do that. I don't want to promise something I can't deliver. And the line is really hard to draw. Caffeine, is, well it is pretty simple. Sort of. Not hard coffee. But what about decaf? What about white tea or green tea or chai? What about chocolate - like come cocoa powder in my smoothie? Then there's sugar. Okay, not white sugar. Or brown. But how about honey or pure maple syrup? What about artificial sweeteners? How about agave? Do I eat fruit sweetened things? Fruit juice? You see what I mean? It simply isn't as simple as smoking or not smoking, drinking or not drinking.
But this is what I think God wants, and therefore what I want. I want to not eat the things that are addictive for me. The things that I cannot stop eating once I start. But I have really struggled with how to make that work, from a health perspective, and from a coping perspective. Those are things like: bread, waffles, pancakes, white rice, anything chocolate, most dairy, anything with sugar or artificial sweetener.
I am excited about that Eat to Live book because I feel there is wisdom from God for me in it. It seems to me that the Lord is saying to me, like He said to Adam and Eve, "Here I am giving you all these things to eat, just don't eat from this tree." He has given me all the same things He gave them. He even says, in Proverbs, if you find honey, don't eat too much of it. But I can eat as much as I want of fruits, veggies, beans, and some nuts and seeds and grains (brown rice and steel cut oats are cool). There is freedom in that way of eating, and that way is also, according to all kinds of studies (describe in Fuhrman's book) the very healthiest way to eat. It makes sense - that is what they ate in the garden, and that is the way that studies have shown best prevents the diseases people in wealthy countries die from. In poorer places, people die because their water is not clean or they don't have adequate medical care or enough to eat. But they are eating the right stuff, so they don't die of the stuff that kills us. In wealthier places, we choose to eat what isn't as good for us because it tastes good, is more convenient and we can afford it. We don't die of the stuff that kills them because we have clean water and good medical care. But if we ate the stuff they eat, fruits and veggies and plant products, we could have the best of both worlds, clean water, good medical care, AND healthy food and bodies.
Today is Valentine's Day. I made monkey bread for my kids for breakfast. I had a smoothie (soy milk, pomegranate juice, half a bag spinach, 2 cups frozen fruit, an apple somebody took a couple bites out of and left for dead, a tbs cocoa powder in honor of Saint Valentine, and some vanilla). For lunch I had a gynormous salad (3 kinds of lettuce, kidney beans, walnuts, almonds, yellow bell pepper, shredded carrot (which sort of reminds me of cheese), celery, tomato, broccoli, and Trader Joe's greek dressing). And for dinner we went to my favorite Indian restaurant, where I had chai, veggie palak on rice and naan. And then I shared a sugar free (Simply Lite) chocolate bar from Trader Joe's (in my opinion the best sugar free chocolate) with my valentine.
There were some Valentine style splurges there. But mostly I'll be doing the smoothie, soup, and salad existence. I won't be hungry. I will be satisfied with Jesus and with the food He has given me.
***
This is some of the stuff I haven't been writing about. Sorry for slacking. I just haven't had time. One of my dishwashers is busted (just a couple weeks past the one year warranty - they said I could extend it for $250, OR I CAN BUY ANOTHER DISHWASHER) and my Laundry Pure croaked, still under warranty, so we're washing clothes with soap and hot water again, and guess what?! The clothes are not cleaner, they just smell like soap now. The Laundry Pure really does a better job, I am convinced of it now. I think mine died because of being a refurb. Or maybe because we do a normal family's decade's worth of laundry in 6 months. Anyway, they were very gracious, and I look forward to having it back.
Also, my washer has been on the fritz, stopping half way through a load, and then my 8 and 9 year old laundry helpers put a load of dripping wet clothes and blankets in the dryer and it takes 3 cycles of dryer time to get those dry and ba-da-bing-ba-da-boom, we're grotesquely behind on laundry. Wretched. And I'm still not unpacked completely from two road trips ago.
Another thing taking up a lot of time is all this salad making and cooking I'm trying to do. Making oatmeal and pancakes and homemade stuff takes so much more time than cereal and chicken nuggets. But, I think it's worth it.
***
Okay, I'm feeling somewhat caught up. Do you feel better? I'll try to keep up a little better. Thanks for reading.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Fitness journey update - Eat To Live
Disclaimer: this is premature glory. I have lost a whole pound, not anything to write home or a blog about. Acknowledged.
Okay. I went to a beloved friend's house (She has long red hair and 10 kids, for those of you who know me personally and need to know exactly who I'm talking about) with the intention of asking while there about her tricks for feeding a lot of children breakfast on a healthy dime. I knew she would have wisdom. Boy did she!
Within a few minutes of being there, I asked my first question (it had been too long since the last visit and we both had lots of questions:) and she hit me in the face with this - "We are no longer eating meat or dairy."
What?! What are you eating then? (I knew she was staying away from sugar and limiting carbs) What else is there?
So we chatted about that, she gave me some recipes, but several of the recipes she had that I wanted were in the book she kept referring to, Eat to Live. For whatever reason, and I'm not sure what it was honestly, I ordered the book when I got home. I really was skeptical.
I'm not now. I think the guy makes a profoundly convincing case for needing to have the vast majority of our diets be made up of, in this order, green leafy veggies, other green veggies, colorful non-starch veggies, fruits, beans, nuts and seeds, with a smaller amount of starchy veggies, and almost no animal products. For weight, for heart, for disease fighting, it all seems pretty clear.
So I am experimenting. I'm not following his advice and cutting out all salt, though I think I'm using less of it. But I'm eating weird stuff. My breakfast was a smoothie made of a half bag of spinach, a banana, a cup of frozen blueberries, a cup of other frozen fruit, a half cup almond milk, a half cup pomegranate juice, a beet and a tablespoon of ground flax.
For supper last night I actually ate a salad without meat or cheese. It was ok. I'm learning. Some of the things I make are duds. I made a veggie soup and had to add quinoa and tortellini to make it worth eating. I did a veggie chili (beans and bell peppers) and had to add seasoning I don't normally think of as chili seasoning (cloves??). But I'm doing ok.
My treats are things I find on www.chocolatecoveredkatie.com - especially the no sugar cookie dough dip. I don't add the chocolate chips, but it's good anyway. To me.
I am trying to feed my kids healthier too - and that's harder. I'm trying to keep a veggie tray stocked and on the counter right before meals, when they're all starting to nibble on each other. I am trying to do more whole grain things, bread, pancakes, waffles, breakfast breads. We're only doing cereal once or twice a week. I am actually making breakfast most days. And I'm talking to them about eating more veggies, and why.
We have a ridiculously long way to go. And I am certainly at the beginning. But I'm excited about this for the following reasons. #1 I am not hungry. #2 Pretty much everything I am eating is good for me. #3 I think I am doing what my body needs and eventually what my kids' bodies need.
I will keep you posted. Unless I completely fall off the wagon. Then I probably won't mention it.
Okay. I went to a beloved friend's house (She has long red hair and 10 kids, for those of you who know me personally and need to know exactly who I'm talking about) with the intention of asking while there about her tricks for feeding a lot of children breakfast on a healthy dime. I knew she would have wisdom. Boy did she!
Within a few minutes of being there, I asked my first question (it had been too long since the last visit and we both had lots of questions:) and she hit me in the face with this - "We are no longer eating meat or dairy."
What?! What are you eating then? (I knew she was staying away from sugar and limiting carbs) What else is there?
So we chatted about that, she gave me some recipes, but several of the recipes she had that I wanted were in the book she kept referring to, Eat to Live. For whatever reason, and I'm not sure what it was honestly, I ordered the book when I got home. I really was skeptical.
I'm not now. I think the guy makes a profoundly convincing case for needing to have the vast majority of our diets be made up of, in this order, green leafy veggies, other green veggies, colorful non-starch veggies, fruits, beans, nuts and seeds, with a smaller amount of starchy veggies, and almost no animal products. For weight, for heart, for disease fighting, it all seems pretty clear.
So I am experimenting. I'm not following his advice and cutting out all salt, though I think I'm using less of it. But I'm eating weird stuff. My breakfast was a smoothie made of a half bag of spinach, a banana, a cup of frozen blueberries, a cup of other frozen fruit, a half cup almond milk, a half cup pomegranate juice, a beet and a tablespoon of ground flax.
For supper last night I actually ate a salad without meat or cheese. It was ok. I'm learning. Some of the things I make are duds. I made a veggie soup and had to add quinoa and tortellini to make it worth eating. I did a veggie chili (beans and bell peppers) and had to add seasoning I don't normally think of as chili seasoning (cloves??). But I'm doing ok.
My treats are things I find on www.chocolatecoveredkatie.com - especially the no sugar cookie dough dip. I don't add the chocolate chips, but it's good anyway. To me.
I am trying to feed my kids healthier too - and that's harder. I'm trying to keep a veggie tray stocked and on the counter right before meals, when they're all starting to nibble on each other. I am trying to do more whole grain things, bread, pancakes, waffles, breakfast breads. We're only doing cereal once or twice a week. I am actually making breakfast most days. And I'm talking to them about eating more veggies, and why.
We have a ridiculously long way to go. And I am certainly at the beginning. But I'm excited about this for the following reasons. #1 I am not hungry. #2 Pretty much everything I am eating is good for me. #3 I think I am doing what my body needs and eventually what my kids' bodies need.
I will keep you posted. Unless I completely fall off the wagon. Then I probably won't mention it.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Slacker
But I'm not. I'm not a slacker. I'm working hard. Honest. I'm nursing a baby right now. I cut hair, I helped make bread, took down Christmas decorations.
Well, I'm writing now. I'm trying to get inspired. I think the hubby and I and some great friends are going to try to go on a cruise next summer for our anniversary. 20 years. And I am researching that some.
I'm trying to get motivated for the next leg of my fitness journey. It's hard. Especially on hard days. I'm pretty sure the thinner I get the nastier I'll look. An old wrinkled nasty bag of skin. The saggy, baggy elephant. Not looking forward to living life in too-big skin.
And hard days are, well, hard. Comfort food is comforting. And time. There simply isn't enough time.
My dad always says you will make time for what matters the most to you. And that is true. But for me, that means neglecting something else I should be doing. For example, there is a pile of clothes in my laundry room that always accumulates of garments that don't fit anyone who lives here right now but that are perfectly good and will, within a few hours, fit someone just fine. They need to be put away. And even though I have an ideal storage system, it still has to actually be done.
Cloth diapers have to be washed and stuffed. People insist on eating every day and that means dishes have to be washed.
And I'm doing this crazy thing of trying to cook more of the foods that fill people up and cost less and are, you know, healthier. Do you know how much more time it takes to make real oatmeal (doesn't come in envelopes) than letting people get their own cereal??
Today I tried an experiment - and those only work about 30% of the time, but I was desperate) - and made breakfast burritos. Doesn't sound that scary, but I decided to make some filler, since we didn't have 3 dozen eggs. I cooked up some potatoes and onion. I thought it was too delicious (scrapping my plan to have an egg day and drop a little of my bloat) and ate 2, but half my clan took one bite and decided to fast.
Sometimes trying at all is the most overwhelming part. And even though I suspect I will at some point put on my A-game and give it my best, count the dumb calories and the stupid carbs and drink the horribly cold January water and run on the stinking treadmill, right now I just want to sit down with a steamer and play solitaire.
Ok. I am a slacker. Or a slacker wannabe.
Well, I'm writing now. I'm trying to get inspired. I think the hubby and I and some great friends are going to try to go on a cruise next summer for our anniversary. 20 years. And I am researching that some.
I'm trying to get motivated for the next leg of my fitness journey. It's hard. Especially on hard days. I'm pretty sure the thinner I get the nastier I'll look. An old wrinkled nasty bag of skin. The saggy, baggy elephant. Not looking forward to living life in too-big skin.
And hard days are, well, hard. Comfort food is comforting. And time. There simply isn't enough time.
My dad always says you will make time for what matters the most to you. And that is true. But for me, that means neglecting something else I should be doing. For example, there is a pile of clothes in my laundry room that always accumulates of garments that don't fit anyone who lives here right now but that are perfectly good and will, within a few hours, fit someone just fine. They need to be put away. And even though I have an ideal storage system, it still has to actually be done.
Cloth diapers have to be washed and stuffed. People insist on eating every day and that means dishes have to be washed.
And I'm doing this crazy thing of trying to cook more of the foods that fill people up and cost less and are, you know, healthier. Do you know how much more time it takes to make real oatmeal (doesn't come in envelopes) than letting people get their own cereal??
Today I tried an experiment - and those only work about 30% of the time, but I was desperate) - and made breakfast burritos. Doesn't sound that scary, but I decided to make some filler, since we didn't have 3 dozen eggs. I cooked up some potatoes and onion. I thought it was too delicious (scrapping my plan to have an egg day and drop a little of my bloat) and ate 2, but half my clan took one bite and decided to fast.
Sometimes trying at all is the most overwhelming part. And even though I suspect I will at some point put on my A-game and give it my best, count the dumb calories and the stupid carbs and drink the horribly cold January water and run on the stinking treadmill, right now I just want to sit down with a steamer and play solitaire.
Ok. I am a slacker. Or a slacker wannabe.
Saturday, January 05, 2013
Wasting time
Today my husband is taking our 7 oldest children to see The Hobbit. They are hugely excited. I am also excited to see it, but that will have to wait until a day I am willing to leave the baby - I don't want him to have a bottle every day, and he had one yesterday (oops). So I'll go sometime. But they're all there, and I am here. I am here with the 6 youngest. 6 under 7.
Now the mountain of laundry is still there, there are dishes waiting to be unloaded and others waiting to be loaded. We cleaned and then messed up again the kitchen table. And I got 2 babies down for naps and thought, is it possible that I might get something done?
Well it all depends. Because Daughter Number Four had the Wee Sing Christmas Songbook in hand. We sang Jingle Bells, all three verses, several times. We sang through the Little Drummer Boy numerous times. Then we just started at the front and worked our way through, singing all the verses listed for each song.
Not too long after that, the baby woke up, and the window of possible efficiency closed again.
Did I get laundry done? The dishes? No. But we sang with gusto, we sang with passion, and my younger children now know how "Must Be Santa" goes. I'm calling that time well spent.
Now the mountain of laundry is still there, there are dishes waiting to be unloaded and others waiting to be loaded. We cleaned and then messed up again the kitchen table. And I got 2 babies down for naps and thought, is it possible that I might get something done?
Well it all depends. Because Daughter Number Four had the Wee Sing Christmas Songbook in hand. We sang Jingle Bells, all three verses, several times. We sang through the Little Drummer Boy numerous times. Then we just started at the front and worked our way through, singing all the verses listed for each song.
Not too long after that, the baby woke up, and the window of possible efficiency closed again.
Did I get laundry done? The dishes? No. But we sang with gusto, we sang with passion, and my younger children now know how "Must Be Santa" goes. I'm calling that time well spent.
Friday, January 04, 2013
Starting Over
Part of why we make and need New Year's Resolutions is because we have behaved so poorly and been so irresponsible and negligent in honor of Jesus' birthday, because that is how we show we love Him, that it is going to take some serious resolve just to begin life again as we knew it before the hurricane known as The Holidays struck.
I need a fresh start. I know, most of you fresh started on Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Me, I'm procrastinating. My brother, niece and nephew fly home tomorrow. Then I've got about 36 hours to pull it together, make a plan, and gear up before the First Real Monday of 2013 launches.
Monday morning, school resumes. Monday morning Eldest Daughter and I will start a new fitness journal/plan together. Monday is the beginning of the week in which all the activities and classes that paused for The Holidays unpause. Monday, Monday, can't love that day.
Frankly, I'm nervous. But ready. One cannot live in holiday mode forever. My children's brains are melting. My pants are getting tight again. The laundry mountain is growing (no one has been doing chores around here, and there has been travel, and cleaning, both of which produce more laundry, somehow) and someone, Someone, I say, someone is going to have to undertake to climb it. That Someone is likely to be me. We could lose a child in there, I tell you.
We are not in as bad of shape on dishes, in part because, well, we have to eat. And, for one of my first amazing and super acts of the new year, I bought more spoons (**applause**). But my refrigerator is a collection of various shapes and sizes of storage containers filled with generations of food-that-once-was-but-is-now-growing-whoknowswhat. And my countertop has 15 empty stockings and 15 almost empty holiday tins from Grandma, containing only candy no one really wanted, necco wafers and such, all taking up space we normally reserve for whatever objects we take away from the toddlers.
Anyway (or any-who, depending on where you're from), I'm just grateful for this whole fresh start New Year's Resolution thing, to give us a pass for whatever lies behind and an official encouragement to look to what lies ahead and press on toward the mark of the high calling of what we were supposed to be doing before we got so distracted celebrating.
Ready, set, go.
(I'm not really ready yet, but, like I told you, I'm starting Monday.)
I need a fresh start. I know, most of you fresh started on Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Me, I'm procrastinating. My brother, niece and nephew fly home tomorrow. Then I've got about 36 hours to pull it together, make a plan, and gear up before the First Real Monday of 2013 launches.
Monday morning, school resumes. Monday morning Eldest Daughter and I will start a new fitness journal/plan together. Monday is the beginning of the week in which all the activities and classes that paused for The Holidays unpause. Monday, Monday, can't love that day.
Frankly, I'm nervous. But ready. One cannot live in holiday mode forever. My children's brains are melting. My pants are getting tight again. The laundry mountain is growing (no one has been doing chores around here, and there has been travel, and cleaning, both of which produce more laundry, somehow) and someone, Someone, I say, someone is going to have to undertake to climb it. That Someone is likely to be me. We could lose a child in there, I tell you.
We are not in as bad of shape on dishes, in part because, well, we have to eat. And, for one of my first amazing and super acts of the new year, I bought more spoons (**applause**). But my refrigerator is a collection of various shapes and sizes of storage containers filled with generations of food-that-once-was-but-is-now-growing-whoknowswhat. And my countertop has 15 empty stockings and 15 almost empty holiday tins from Grandma, containing only candy no one really wanted, necco wafers and such, all taking up space we normally reserve for whatever objects we take away from the toddlers.
Anyway (or any-who, depending on where you're from), I'm just grateful for this whole fresh start New Year's Resolution thing, to give us a pass for whatever lies behind and an official encouragement to look to what lies ahead and press on toward the mark of the high calling of what we were supposed to be doing before we got so distracted celebrating.
Ready, set, go.
(I'm not really ready yet, but, like I told you, I'm starting Monday.)
Friday, December 21, 2012
No 'easy' button
Parenting is something you chip away at, gradually, bit by bit. You say the same thing a thousand times, not knowing if you are making any impact.
Obey and be kind. Obey and be kind. These are the rules, especially for the little ones, obey and be kind. Hold up two fat sticky fingers and say it, obey and be kind.
Say the verse, Ephesians 4:32, and be ye kind, one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you.
"KINDNESS!"
Breaking up skirmishes, emotional, hormonal, physical. (Yesterday I commented under my breath that we have enough hormones here to power a space rocket. Oldest son, near enough to hear, responded, "I don't think it works that way, Mom."). Over a toy, over a comment or a facial expression or a tone of voice.
Unforgiveness lays a foundation for an explosion, should anyone grieviously make a repeat error, let alone an oft repeated error.
And yet.
I'm chipping away. Obey and be kind. Kindness! Ephesians 4:32.
Yesterday I took all 13 children to the oldest 3's Christmas party for their 'school' (not really a school, supplimental thing). There was food to be eaten, socializing to do, and there were games to be played, games for high school homeschoolers. Big kids. And my smaller people were feeling left out. (not the babies, they were doing acrobatics in the middle of the floor)
And without a negative breath or look, the older sibs pulled the smalls in. They were kind. So kind.
My battles have not been for naught. My daily instruction bore some fruit. After all the at home training, we passed the test.
Kindness. There's no easy button. But sometimes ...
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
99 presents for kids 'neath the tree
99 presents for kids
Take one down and pass it around
99 presents for kids 'neath the tree
Well, actually there are 92, but who's counting?
I am. This is another one of those things that is hard for people to imagine, how do you do Christmas with 13 kids. It has not always been this way, and will probably continue to evolve, but for the last couple years, here is how we do it.
We have a budget. We spend a little more on the bigs and a little less on the smalls and basically nothing on the baby.
And we make a list and put it in a spreadsheet, everything we buy, price, shipping info, who it's for, etc. After making sure everybody will open pretty much the same number of things and with pretty much the same amount of happiness, we then sort them by gift, alphabetically.
Then we tweak it. We send everyone's "main present" to the end and make sure the small people don't go too long without something to unwrap.
Finally, we number them.
Each child had another child to help choose a gift for, and they got to wrap their person's presents, to what ever degree they were capable of doing so. (I'm pretty sure Fifth Daughter already told Third Daughter what she got her.) Once wrapped, each gift gets only a number. No names.
That keeps everyone guessing the whole time. And it's fun.
So that's how we do it. It's a little ocd, I admit, but it's a great game.
That's how we do the present thing. I think we will do stockings, then breakfast, then Christmas story and gifts after breakfast. Breakfast is home made egg mcmuffins this year - good enough to eat even with a sock full of candy in front of you.
Take one down and pass it around
99 presents for kids 'neath the tree
Well, actually there are 92, but who's counting?
I am. This is another one of those things that is hard for people to imagine, how do you do Christmas with 13 kids. It has not always been this way, and will probably continue to evolve, but for the last couple years, here is how we do it.
We have a budget. We spend a little more on the bigs and a little less on the smalls and basically nothing on the baby.
And we make a list and put it in a spreadsheet, everything we buy, price, shipping info, who it's for, etc. After making sure everybody will open pretty much the same number of things and with pretty much the same amount of happiness, we then sort them by gift, alphabetically.
Then we tweak it. We send everyone's "main present" to the end and make sure the small people don't go too long without something to unwrap.
Finally, we number them.
Each child had another child to help choose a gift for, and they got to wrap their person's presents, to what ever degree they were capable of doing so. (I'm pretty sure Fifth Daughter already told Third Daughter what she got her.) Once wrapped, each gift gets only a number. No names.
That keeps everyone guessing the whole time. And it's fun.
So that's how we do it. It's a little ocd, I admit, but it's a great game.
That's how we do the present thing. I think we will do stockings, then breakfast, then Christmas story and gifts after breakfast. Breakfast is home made egg mcmuffins this year - good enough to eat even with a sock full of candy in front of you.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Where is God?
Our nation is grieving. 26 lives lost. Most of them young children. I, like many, looked tonight at the sons and daughters I have in that age group and thought about the moms and dads who don't have their child that age because a crazy guy with a gun shot them at school today.
I was reading the 1st article that popped up in response to my google search and throughout the 5 or so pages of it, there were several highlighted links that I could click that led to other related stories. One of them was something like, 'the nation wonders where God is'.
As I was praying tonight and telling Him of my sorrow, I was thinking of the verse in Jeremiah (31:15 I think) about Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted because they were no more. That's how my heart feels. There is no comfort, no hope. There are Christmas presents bought for children who won't wake up Christmas morning. Empty arms, hearts in a rage, where is God?
He is grieving. Like He does every day when innocent blood is shed. We are killing them off by the millions. The difference between these 26 and the children we abort daily is that these children were wanted by their parents. But the children we abort were wanted and designed and planned for by God. He loves them, loves the 26, loves the Israelis and Palestinians, civilians and soldiers, who are dying. Those in Syria and North Korea being tortured and murdered by their own government, and those doing the murdering, He loves them.
People usually don't care for the idea of a God who would send people to hell. But on a day like today, we want Him to be just and punish the wicked. Problem is, that's all of us. There is none righteous. No, not one.
God hates the shedding of innocent blood. And yet He caused His Son's innocent blood to be spilt as a ransom for many.
Jesus wept at Lazarus' tomb, though He knew He was about to heal him. I believe He weeps today. But I think we need the perspective that He also grieves the lives we take with our own hands through abortion and call it freedom and women's rights and reproductive health. We would be absolutely horrified if a so-called doctor did to one of our children, or 26 of our children, or thousands of our children what is done systematically, daily, for lots of money to these pre-born but unique and special and wonderfully knit by their Creator God children.
That's where God is.
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