Celebrations

Wow. I have been wanting to write this post for a long time now, but between computer issues and kids who get jealous when I use the computer (it's a real problem), it just hasn't happened. So, let's see if I can squeeze two months into one little – or not so little – blog post.

October was full of fall celebrations with a trip to an apple orchard and pumpkin patch, a hayride at Grandpa and Grandma's farm, and trick-or-treating with our very own fire chief and police chief (not pictured).

November started off grandly with a good view of this little face at his or her 23-week ultrasound.

The same week, we also celebrated the littlest one in the household turning two!

He thoroughly enjoyed his barn cake with farm animal cupcakes. And, while they were fairly time consuming to decorate, his mama certainly enjoyed making them! This little man is my sweet and sassy one! He can be cuddly and full of kisses one minute, then taking a stand and refusing to back down the next. Elias is the one I worry about when I think about this baby coming because he is most certainly a mama's boy, but we are working on that, too.

The first week of November also included Kieran's debut as a ring bearer at the wedding of a long-time friend, Lindsay.

November also brought about the 70th anniversary of Jordan's grandparents.

It was so wonderful to be a part of the celebrations and to hear the testament of the faith, love, and loyalty of these two lovely people that we so admire. It is almost impossible for me to wrap my head around the fact that we have only been married for about 12% of that time! I hope and pray that we can be even half of the example to our own children and grandchildren that they have been to us.

Since then, we have also had plenty of time with family – including a trip to Illinois to visit my brother and his family during the one snowstorm we've had this winter – a fun date night with our small group, and Christmas celebrations. We even got to celebrate with some neighborhood friends tonight as we adapted what has become our annual Elf party. :) … And while it looks like we won't have a white Christmas this year, we definitely have much to celebrate.

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When Waiting is Hard

Maybe you're waiting to hear on a job you were hoping to land. Or a call from that realtor about the house that seems like it's just the right fit.

Or a diagnosis.

Perhaps you are waiting for life in general to get better … or just hoping it won't get worse.

As for me, I found myself waiting for another child. Different desires would overtake me at different times. One moment, I would be sitting on the floor completely content to be reading a book to my two lovely boys; later, I would be vacuuming and realize I just spent the last 20 minutes thinking, "If we were to get pregnant this month, this is when our baby would be born," and daydreaming about what it would be like.

Logically, I knew that it didn't matter when or even if we had another child. Not only could I be content with what I had been given, I could learn to be content with His timing, too. But in my heart, I had ideas and plans – I had my own timing. And it seemed like no one really cared about any of it. It is a difficult thing when husband and wife are not on the same page. … And not because of arguing or strife, but simply because one can feel passionately about something while the other does not share the same conviction.

Finally, while going through a study on James, I realized that this had become an idol in my life. The problem wasn't really that I wanted to have a baby (sooner rather than later). The problem was that I wanted life to go my way. That I wasn't satisfied in waiting on God. When the realization poured over me that this was something I thought about every single day, I knew it was time to do more than just lightly bring up the topic with my husband. So I wrote to him – like I always do when something really heavy is weighing me down.

I have started praying that God would show me why I can't stop thinking about someone who, in all reality, may not ever exist. I love you so much, and Kieran and Elias, too. And I feel pretty strongly that if God were to never give us another child, I could be okay with that. But I never do well with the in-betweens. After we miscarried Asher and before I discovered that we were pregnant with Kieran, I struggled with all the "what ifs" and the "whens." I guess, in some things, I like to have a general idea of what's going to happen.

I was so nervous to approach Jordan with this. I mean, I would never want to be that wife who pressures her husband into a decision that he still needs time to make. But I also would hate for something like this to build up into hurt and discord in our marriage.

… If this makes you feel bad, I'm sorry. But maybe you can understand that as intense as that feeling can sometimes be, I obviously don't feel like that all day, everyday. I am so thankful for you and our boys and the station in life I have so graciously been given. So please have patience with me, try to understand my heart, and ask God to help us stay unified ….

It can be difficult to walk around with a heart that is filled with the chaos of being divided. Once I had shared my heart with my husband and laid it all out before the Lord, I was able to find rest. I was able to understand that, while my husband was okay with "now," he wasn't in a hurry, either. My desires didn't change, but my perspective did. And the best part of all this was that as I was giving my idol over to Him, He was the only one who knew that I was already carrying the newest member of our family. He simply loves me that much that He wanted to draw me closer to Him first.

This verse is actually about Abraham, but I love that I can also take hold of God's promises. :)
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Lovely Things

It's been awhile.

But, then again, that's pretty normal for me in this situation isn't it? I can't think of anything to write that's as important as the news I want to share.

Baby number four – and hopefully our third to hold in our arms – is due around March 10th of next year! I am finally past the morning sickness (although brushing my teeth and changing diapers is always a potential trigger), and Kieran is getting pretty excited. Most of the time he says we are going to have a baby Elias (as in, a smaller version of Elias), but he has also said we are going to have a baby Eunice (our friends' baby daughter), a baby horse, a baby cow, and a baby octopus, of all things.

Goob #1

Goob #2

I love these boys so much, and as much as I have thought to myself every day for the last month or so, "What are we getting ourselves into?!" I am so excited to add another sibling to the mix – brother or sister, we don't care! That being said, after pulling out twin boys from the baby gender predictor at MOPS yesterday (suckers out of a bag), I am relieved to say that there is only one baby in there. :)

Look at that sweet little thing! We are right on track at 14 weeks and happy to say that there is no placenta previa this time around. This was the longest I have ever had to wait to hear my baby's heartbeat, and I cried tears of sweet relief at the sound. What a perfect reason to smile and be overflowing with joy on this day of remembrance … which also happens to be 11 years to the day since the hubs and I started dating. So many reasons to praise God today!

Gravity

It can be so hard to be the one who consistently strives to help your children be aware of their sin and to help them understand the root of why we grieve over it and its effects – especially when we know we still have so much we ourselves need to bring before God. 

"Let there be tears for what you have done. Let there be sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead of joy. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up in honor" (James 4:9-10, NLT).

How do we help our children go through a process we ourselves daily fail at? God wants me to see the gravity of my own sin and to be humbled by the grace I need for the responsibility I have to help my children realize their sin and sorrow appropriately. I myself often sit on the fence and flirt with the world while I say I belong to God. 

But then I read this:

Do you think the Scriptures have no meaning? They say that God is passionate that the Spirit he has placed within us should be faithful to him. And he gives grace generously. As the Scriptures say, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

I am not in this alone. I have the Spirit inside me who desires to passionately battle with me as I face each and every trial and temptation – big or small. And I have grace. Generous grace. Every time I acknowledge my own sin and weaknesses, I have clear access to a wellspring of grace that pools into the dark and empty places within me. I have eyes that can better see God's wisdom as I seek to lead precious souls to see the importance of this daily process we go through as we fight the good fight within our home. And I have peace that while I may only see the difficulty of the here and now, God sees the glorious result of small moments of faithfulness building upon each other until we reach eternity. 

Hallelujah. He giveth more grace.

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Summer Treats

About two months ago, my dumpster-diving KitchenAid (don't worry, we bought our own accessories) gave up on me after a particularly large batch of cookies. And while a baking sabbatical is good for one's waistline, too long of a sabbatical can wither the soul. I'm hoping to save up for the kind of mixer that should last me until Kieran goes off to college; in the meantime, I have been scouring through my recipes and pins for desserts that can be made with a food processor or a good ol' wooden spoon.

First off, I made this berry pie a couple of different times. I just love all the colorful goodness in this one.

Then, I made Chef in Training's Banana Bars with Brown Butter Frosting a couple of times. The frosting? To. Die. For.

One of my favorites since college are these carmelitas. I like to make them with Mexican food – they sound like something you'd find on a menu at a Mexican restaurant, right? I also made this homemade caramel for the recipe, too!

Finally, I was really wanting a doughnut the other day, but, as a rule, I try to never buy them unless it's for church. And I abhor deep frying. All that mess and wasted oil … ugh. But I searched on Pinterest and found these Dirt Bombs (great title, right?), which are, essentially, doughnut muffins.

As I was mixing them together (in my food processor, of course) I had this feeling of déjà vu, and I realized that I had made almost this exact recipe before, when I made The Pioneer Woman's French Breakfast Puffs. Either way, they are yummy with your morning coffee! …Oh, and speaking of PW's recipes, I have had her lemon bars on the brain for quite awhile now. I just need for this heat wave to break so I can get to baking again!

Even if you don't have all the tools you would like, I hope you can get your bake on this summer, too. What are some of your recent favorite dessert finds?

P.S. I simply cannot forget to mention this homemade hot fudge! It's great to have on hand to bring to a get-together. Just grab a carton of vanilla ice cream (or make your own), and you're ready to go!

The Good Portion

{From my journal}

June 24, 2015

Everyday, I am sowing something, regardless of whether or not I am aware of it. By His grace, I want to start each day with Him, seek His wisdom and leading – wisdom that is "pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere" – so I can make the choices that lead to a "harvest of righteousness" which is "sown in peace by those who make peace."

Lord, I need so much help with this. Everyday, I choose to worship at the altar of self, often becoming frustrated when things don't go my way or they are harder than I'd hoped they would be. In my own strength, I can't find wisdom or peace, nor can I bear the kind of fruits that actually last. Pour out your mercy on me:  a woman, wondering how to do this thing called life as a daughter, sister, wife, mother, and friend. But most of all, as a sinner … saved by grace, without a doubt, but so easily enticed to choose the easier roads, not pushing to do the hard things that can lead to long-lasting rewards.

I am so weak and weary. Help me to seek and rely on Your strength and love and see my life transformed. Though I can sometimes be like Martha, "anxious and troubled about many things," help me to focus on the "one thing" that is necessary. Help me to choose "the good portion."

Amen and amen.

Even When My Eyes Can't See

Hope.

Brokenness. 

Have you ever faced a mountain so big that you cannot see over or around it? Has it seemed so permanent that you start to believe it will always, always be there and, rather than continually bringing it before God, you start to believe (though you may never say it aloud) that He doesn't care about that particular mountain?

Sometimes the world steals our hope and pride or fear steal our ability to be broken before God, and we simply give up. We find it easier to stop thinking about the insurmountable and focus on what we can do and what we can change. We pour our hearts into another project, another soul, all the while knowing that God is waiting, waiting for us to resume the trek He has set before us. "Let me climb that hill!" we cry out desperately. "These people need my attention!" we mutter in self-justification. We can't understand why God would have us take up the climb one more time, when we have no surety that we will ever reach the top.

This weekend, I had the opportunity to visit my grandma's church, down south.

The pastor talked about John 13, when Jesus washes the feet of His disciples – nothing I hadn't heard before. But as my heart was being crushed by this mountain, I was so ready for His Word to speak life to me. Jesus was doing something that confounded everyone. He took on the mantle of a servant and willingly did one of the dirtiest and lowliest jobs: washing the dirt and grime of traveling on dusty roads and through animal droppings off of the crusty feet of these working-class men (no male pedicures, here). And Peter – our beloved Peter with whom we can all identify – just could not comprehend why Jesus would do this, nor how he could allow his revered teacher to see and touch and smell the filth collected on his feet. And when Jesus explained that if he didn't allow Him to wash his feet, then he could have no part in Him, Peter cried, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!"

As we sat in a chilly, air-conditioned room on a hot and muggy Sunday morning, we were reminded that Jesus was able to see past the sin of those closest to them to serve them physically and minister to their souls. That morning, what Jesus said to Peter struck me in a way it never had before:

"What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand."

Sometimes, we just cannot understand why God seems to be so slow to answer. So we stop asking. We cannot understand how things will ever improve when they just seem to be getting worse. So we stop hoping. We begin to forget that, in all things, God is for us. So we stop running to God, asking Him to break our hearts once more.

For me, this mountain is the family I grew up in. And while I would never share all the details, it is enough to know that there are many broken and strained relationships and many, many hurts that happened even before I was born that are still bearing fruit today. While we spent several days away from home and with different family members, I came face-to-face with some of those and felt the weight of a broken, mostly unbelieving family press down on me again.

But one glorious event shone through, like suddenly stumbling upon a mountain pass.

I got to meet my little brother.

A brother I hadn't seen since he was six months old and I was five.

And I never, ever thought this would happen. At some point, it just seemed like too much time had passed for reconciliation to occur. And while everything was not perfect or golden, nor would I expect it to be, I saw God answering my prayers and the petitions of others. He gave me an overwhelming sense of peace and a deep-seated knowledge that He is still there, working in the midst of what so often seems like an impossible situation. And though I may not understand now, someday I will stand with Him on the brink of eternity, He will show me what He was doing, and I will understand.

Far be it from me to not believe

Even when my eyes can't see

And this mountain that's in front of me

Will be thrown into the midst of the sea

Through it all, through it all

My eyes are on You

It is well

Through it all, through it all

Our Three-Day Potty Training Experience

WE DID IT!!!

This kid is potty trained! :) I put all these shenanigans off time and time again until, finally, we just picked a weekend on the calendar and decided that unless an emergency came up it was time.

I had read the 3 Day Potty Training e-book awhile ago, so I went back and reviewed it. While the whole idea of getting it over and done with seemed very appealing, I was also super intimidated by how intense it sounded. You become your child's shadow and are responsible for running them to the bathroom anytime they are about to have an accident. You remind them a million times to, "Tell Mommy or Daddy if you feel like you have to go potty." But do you know what? It was great!

The first day is just weird for a potty-training novice. Neither you or your child know what is going on. We started out the morning last Saturday in his very last diaper from the evening before and waited until after breakfast to change him. First, we made a very big deal about Kieran giving all of his diapers to his little brother (who goes up a size in diapers at bedtime). We had him throw away the one he was wearing, and put on his own underwear. … He was pretty hesitant at first, "No! I don't want underwear!" Even though he was excited about it the night before, there was still some uncertainty. 

And then, we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Since he had already gone in his morning diaper, he didn't have to go to the bathroom again for another two or three hours – even with all of the fluids we were pumping into him. When he did finally have to go, we kind of failed at the whole point of the three-day method and didn't get him to the bathroom in time to finish over the toilet. In fact, the first two or three times we didn't get him there fast enough because he would make a little whimpering noise, and by the time we got there, he was done. We just told him it was "yucky" and reminded him to tell us as soon as he felt like he had to go potty because we wanted to keep our underwear, "dry!"

The first day felt pretty unproductive, but we were so proud of him when he woke up with dry underwear! By the end of the first day and into the second day, he was able to get to the potty and finish in it but not keep his underwear dry. And by sometime the third day, he was able tell us he needed to go and keep his underwear dry!! I'll tell ya, folks, it feels good to cross this bridge and say, "Goodbye," to four diapers a day.

Now, of course, there are still some things we need to work on. In the week that has passed since we started potty training, he has only ever gone in our bathroom. The one time he needed to go when we were out of the house, he had an accident because he was scared to use their bathroom. He has also never gone for anyone but Mom or Dad, so it may be interesting the first time he has to go at church or if someone else is watching him. Then, of course, there is the dreaded "number two." The first time was an emotional disaster that didn't get anywhere close to the bathroom, while the second time was extremely successful – in the potty from start to finish. And McDonald's ice cream cones for everyone! But one success does not guarantee the next.

Needless to say, I am pretty proud of my boy. It's scenes like this, though, that keep us humble.

Somebunny's Three

Was this just two years ago?

Everyone in our house was getting excited for K's birthday. Even Elias was getting in on the game, and a week later, he's still singing, "Happy birthday to you." Kieran did NOT like his three-year appointment … until the sucker came out! He weighed in at 29.6 pounds (28th percentile) and measured 25.25 inches (7th percentile). We stopped for chicken nuggets, and Kieran scored some free birthday cookies!

Elias enjoyed a little, too. :)

On his actual birthday, we met up with some friends at a park halfway between our towns. It was fun to spend the morning with friends and to try out a new place!

For dinner, Kieran requested hamburgers, so we had sliders and hot dogs and other grilling fare and, of course, cake!

I made an ice cream cake, and he loved it! It was super easy, too. I softened some chocolate ice cream and spread it into an 8x8 pan lined with plastic wrap, then let it set in the freezer. I made some hot fudge, let it cool some, then layered that on top of the ice cream. After layering some crushed Oreos on top of the fudge, I again let it set in the freezer. A layer of softened vanilla ice cream and another stint in the freezer, and it was ready to be inverted onto a cutting board. I "frosted" it with Cool Whip and topped it with green sprinkles, more crushed Oreos, and a little John Deere tractor. 

We had some family over to celebrate, and we all enjoyed watching Kieran open his presents. Little did we know that we all got him something vehicle-related.

In some things, little boys are easy to please. :)

A couple days later, this boy was over-the-moon excited just to be able to sit on the mowers at Lowe's.

I already posted something mushy about my little man turning three, so I'll spare you that. But we sure do love this boy to pieces!

Celebrations

It's been a crazy couple of weeks! I finished up my 10-week program at Farrell's on the 21st, and Jordan and I took an overnight getaway to Minneapolis on the 27th and 28th.

Although I was hoping to push a little bit harder, I have to say that I was pleased with my results when I tested out on the last day of the program. I lost 8.5 pounds according to their scale – 10 pounds according to my own – and a total of 4% body fat. In addition, I lost two inches off of my waist and a total of 10.25 inches combined off of my chest, waist, hips, arms, and thighs. But what really impressed me was my strength gain! My push-ups increased from 19 (toes) and 17 (knees) to 30 (toes) and 33 (knees) in one minute. My sit-ups increased from a measly 8 in one minute to 26. I also gained two inches on my sit-and-reach and shaved 2:19 off of my mile.

All of this hard work really put me in the mood to celebrate! I was so excited that I was able to keep our anniversary destination a secret from Jordan. A few months ago, I found a Groupon for a hotel in downtown Minneapolis. I thought Jordan would like the fact that the building used to be a really grand old bank (a farmer's and mechanic's savings bank, to be exact). The hotel's restaurant is laid out in the original lobby, and you can still see where the bank tellers would be and such. They also keep their wine in the bank's vault, in case you're into that sort of thing. ;)

Before heading downtown, we stopped at the Mall of America and did a little shopping – mostly just enjoying the fact that it was just the two of us. I had asked a friend that lives in the Cities for a couple of recommendations for good places to eat, so I was really excited to try one of them out; however, the hotel had a surcharge of $13.95 per day for basic internet access, so I couldn't access my messages to see what they were. I was pretty frustrated, but we took it in stride and headed out to take in the sites and see if anything struck our fancy. After walking around for awhile, we backtracked to a Brazilian steakhouse, Fogo de Chao.

While we were waiting for a table, we asked to see a menu, but we were so confused because we couldn't find prices anywhere! When we were seated, we were directed to the salad bar … silly us, it wasn't until after we went through that we thought to speak up and ask how the pricing worked.  Let's just say that had we known, we wouldn't have stayed.

Still, the food was delicious, and it was an experience, as well. The salad bar was very good and a little more exotic than you might usually find. When at your table, you are served rolls and family style side dishes that are constantly being replenished. But the best part is the meat. Waiters are always walking by with some sort of meat that has been rotisseried:  fillet mignon, top sirloin, garlic beef, chicken and sausage, parmesan-encrusted pork loin, lamb chops, leg of lamb, shrimp … I'm sure I'm forgetting something! It's definitely a time to throw caution to the wind and overeat. Speaking of which, we were given a complimentary dessert for our anniversary, but there was no way we could eat another bite. We chose the turtle cheesecake and ended up eating it later that evening in our hotel room with these gigantic coffee stirrers that just happened to double as chopsticks. 

We had a wonderful time, and I am convinced that it was time well spent. We really needed to remember what it was like to just be a couple! 

We returned to a sad, sick little two-year-old but were very thankful for a grandma who took good care of him. Needless to say, by that evening, he was back to his energetic, ornery little self. :) Tonight, I cried a little after I put him to bed on his last night of being two. Last night I asked him how old he was going to be on his birthday, and Kieran said, "Three! I'm gonna be smart, Mom."

Life is never dull.

Beauty in the Ordinary

About this time last Sunday my brother and I were driving into Chicago for a very impromptu trip. Our loving grandma (my stepfather's mother) and the matriarch of the family for almost 40 years had passed away after a five-month battle with declining health. This woman survived the death of her husband when she was in her early fifties, breast cancer on more than one occasion, and was the last of her siblings left. She always took care of everyone and worked hard without complaint.

I was surprised, honored, and a little terrified when I was asked to give the eulogy at her funeral on Monday. We remembered her family, her work, and her friends; however, what has stuck with me the most and I have been thinking on all week is the fact that Grandma was born, raised, and lived in the same neighborhood in Chicago for all of her 90 years. Most of the things that she accomplished and the people that she loved were in that neighborhood, too, at one time in her life. She didn't have to travel around the world to see and be thankful for all that she had around her. I am left with the overwhelming reminder that the life we live is made up of moments of faithfulness and sheer ordinariness.

And the sum of those moments is something truly beautiful.

Becoming a Boy

This face.

This boy.

When did it happen? In just four weeks he will be three years old. No longer a baby. No longer a toddler.

I feel like I am standing at the precipice of his boyhood, just as I will some day stand at the precipice of his manhood. As I peer over the edge into the muddy waters of the future, I catch glimpses of this new Kieran – a sneak peek of his first day of school, his first bike ride without training wheels, and the first time he stands up for his brother. I can almost hear the cries the first time someone calls him a name or when we rush him to get stitches. He has so much life ahead of him.

Every week brings new joys and challenges: the independence and the sassiness, the sweetness and the naughtiness, the tenderness and the stubbornness, and the maturity and the immaturity. Oftentimes, I can look back at the end of the day and see where I became too frustrated with this boy … but writing this now, all I can feel is joy and awe that I get to be his mom.

I just hope he can handle all of the extra cuddles he's going to get this month. :)

You Are Not Your Own

It seems I have always had a hard time trusting those lines that appear on a pregnancy test. For me, I need to hear a tiny, ridiculously fast-paced heartbeat to really be able to grasp the truth:  life is never going to be the same. The very first time I heard the sound of a heart other than mine beating from within me, everything changed in that very instant. No matter where I went or what I was doing, I knew that I was no longer doing it alone.

We change how we eat, how we move, how we think about the world. We submit to a sacred process that oftentimes keeps us from sleeping or finds us making more trips to the bathroom than we'd care to admit. And then we meet this tiny little person that has for so long been an extension of ourselves.

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All at once, I wanted to return them to that place of safety and comfort and nourishment, all the while knowing that now that I had held them and looked upon them, I could never let them go. And so, I learned what it is like to have another being completely dependent upon me for his every need. I learned the beauty of becoming a source of nourishment for someone else. Sometimes I chafed under the demand and the unfairness that this was a task that only I could perform. But God showed me just how vast He is and nursed my heart as I nursed each of my boys.

Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind or the mystery of a tiny baby growing in its mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things (Ecclesiastes 11:5, NLT).

Now here I find myself, three years and nine months later, with my body returned to me, so to speak. I have a sweet babe waiting for me in heaven and two independent toddlers who don't need me specifically for nourishment; my baby, who isn't so much of a baby anymore, is officially weaned. And I can't help but meditate on these two things:

You are not your own. 

As I push myself physically and mentally, trying to get back into clothes that haven't fit the way I'd like them to for awhile, I know that I will never be the same. My body has gone through so, so much, in such a short amount of time. It deserves my respect and my admiration. It also deserves honesty and practicality and grace. I will take care of my body. I will  make peace with its flaws because I know I am not content with giving up … but I also know that it's not worth striving to be what I once was. I can look forward with confidence that God has designed my body to love and be loved.

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My children still need me. 

It may not be for late night feedings, but they still need what only I can give. No one can give hugs just the way I do. No one else reads the characters' voices in their favorite storybooks as only I do. They know my scent, the sound of my voice, and what that spot just below my chin feels like. Soon, they will need my wisdom and my advice. They will need a listening ear and an unjudging spirit. They will need a friend. They will need someone to be embarrassed about. They will always, always need someone to wake up every morning and strive to demonstrate God's love even when it is so, so hard. And they will still need someone to be a fortress and a safe haven for them.

Ah, motherhood.

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