June Cleaver Without the Heels

Readers, there is a blog on the interweb that is even more fantastic than mine. It is called Heavenly Homemakers, and I think it is the blog equivalent of my soulmate. This lady posts recipes for things that seem complicated or difficult or at least impressive to make from scratch, and they are almost always healthy. She emphasizes whole food ingredients like honey and whole wheat, and teaches how to make staples like homemade peanut butter and homemade yogurt. (Bonus: she is even funnier than I am!) And guess what. Although these sound like the sorts of things that make you think, "That is for women who wear long dresses and aprons and spend all day up to their elbows in flour," (because that was totally my first reaction, too), it is EASY to make this stuff!

Example: Homemade peanut butter.

Recipe: Place peanuts in food processor. Push the button until it looks like peanut butter. No seriously, that's it. Unless you want to stir in some honey. (Full disclosure: I ordered a food processor on Amazon about fifteen seconds after reading this "recipe". Not only because I could make homemade peanut butter with it, but also because I loathe chopping things and figured it was about time to make the investment.)

Example 2: Homemade yogurt.

Recipe: Place 3/4 cup plain yogurt into a glass jar with 1 quart milk. Shake. Place in a cooler full of hot water and leave for seven hours. Try not to forget that it's there. (I added that last part.) Add vanilla, honey, fruit, etc. if you want flavor.


So guess what I undertook today? I was perusing her dessert recipes (where did you think I would start, seriously?) I saw the Flourless Peanut Butter Cookie recipe and thought, oh, too bad I don't have any chocolate chips! Turns out, the Heavenly Homemaker has a fix for that, too. Homemade chocolate chips! Which I made immediately, and while they were chilling, I decided to make Mudballs instead of the peanut butter cookies. This is my new (healthy!!) alternative to whipping up no-bakes when we are craving dessert. Mudballs contain peanut butter, honey, wheat germ, oats, and (homemade) chocolate chips. And sesame seeds or any type of seeds, but I am not really a seed kind of girl and didn't have any on hand.

Here's how things turned out: (If you compare photos, mine turned out runnier than hers. I am not sure why but they hardened nicely in the fridge and are dang tasty.)


So please, continue with your day and be sure to feel terribly impressed with me. Because I took all of eight minutes to make chocolate chips (plus the two hours they spent in the refrigerator not requiring my attention) and a full ten minutes to make Mudballs.

As soon as I obtain some glass quart jars, I fully intend to make yogurt. It is one of our weekly splurges because it is delish and we only eat the all-natural stuff. So if I can make it at home out of our cheap, farm fresh raw milk, I consider that a homemaking WIN. And then the other ladies at church will be totally justified in their envious murmurings because I am such a kitchen prodigy.

Hopefully there is a blog out there that can help me with humility, too...

A Tale of Two Easters

The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

It's hard for us to believe that just last Easter we were dealing with the heart-wrenching reality of death and miscarriage. I woke up last Easter morning to a grieving wife, who had started to miscarry overnight. And this after years of struggling with infertility, doubt, and fear. Looking back, we are thankful that it happened on Resurrection Sunday, which helped temper the grief and helped force our tear-stained eyes to our risen Lord, the Firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.

Easter will never be the same, as we experienced for the first time this year. We were reminded afresh of the searing pain we experienced, mixed with longing for the future resurrection. Our dross is being consumed, and our gold is being refined. As if God's faithfulness and covenant promises to us weren't enough, we also had another profound reason to be joyful this Easter. Her name is Mikayla Grace. We gave her that name for a reason, for truly, who is like God, lavishing blessings on his undeserving children? From death he brings life; from mourning he brings dancing; from grief he brings gladness.

It has taken us a year to "go public" about this, mainly because it has been so difficult for us. I don't write this with the purpose of gaining sympathy or comfort, though prayers are appreciated. I write so that you will rejoice with us in our only comfort in life and in death: that we are not our own, but belong, body and soul, to our faithful Savior Jesus Christ.

Who is like the Lord our God,
who is seated on high,
who looks far down
on the heavens and the earth?
He raises the poor from the dust
and lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes,
with the princes of his people.
He gives the barren woman a home,
making her the joyous mother of children.
Praise the Lord!
-From Psalm 113

Happy Birthday to Me!

Some women treat themselves to a little something special on their birthdays. A mani/pedi, a massage, perhaps something as simple as enjoying a little extra chocolate. The world tells us, you deserve it! Indulge! Pamper!

Apparently such ideas are too tame for this momma. Would you like to know what I treated myself to for my birthday?

It all started with my first attempt at making wings on Monday. I went with Frank's Red Hot medium buffalo wing sauce. Baked, not fried, and garnished with bleu cheese dressing. Mmmm!! Joel and I thoroughly enjoyed our dinner, and I patted myself on the back for branching out into the world of delicious finger foods.

Little did I know that I was setting myself up for the birthday of birthdays.

Oh, I know what you're thinking. I was totally fine. No digestive issues here, I can handle the Frank's. Little Mikayla? Not so much.

I knew something was up when she wouldn't go back to sleep after her 7 a.m. feeding. I wasn't sure whether my big three month old girl was just changing her sleep schedule a little, or just having an off day, but she certainly cleared that question up for me in short order. Not only did she not go back to sleep, but she screamed like I was asking her to sleep on somebody else's sheets. (Serious business. I gave birth to a little Princess and the Pea. I think she can smell the difference between fragrance-free detergents.)

Ooooh the inhumanity of it all! We found a few minutes of peace when I laid her on her back instead of her tummy, but soon she was wailing and thrashing again. My usually sunny morning-person daughter had a disposition to match the stormy weather outside.

We spent the next six hours alternating between tenuous contentment and heartwrenching misery. She typically naps like a champ, but yesterday she would not fall asleep except in my arms, and that only for about ten minutes at a stretch. Joel came home to both of us asleep on the couch, since I didn't get my usual booster shot of beauty sleep from 7-9 a.m.

I must have started five different projects. I folded half the laundry, leaving it strewn on the coffee table when she became particularly upset. I had a couple of loads sitting in the washer and dryer. I showered quickly, leaving her to her own devices for ten minutes. My makeup was out on the bathroom counter, but I had to dash off without applying any. My hair....well. Anyway. I started to take her temperature...er...down there, but she promptly peed ALL OVER the thermometer, my hand, the changing pad. The morning was a total wash in the traditional sense, as I devoted myself to constantly soothing my daughter.

So, Joel arrived home, waking me from my gentle slumber on the couch. I realized that I needed to get ready for work, like, pronto, so I tried again to place Mikayla in her crib. No deal. Leaving Joel to help her, I raced around to make myself presentable and finish what little I could. Meanwhile barking the details of Mikayla's morning to Joel so he would know just what he was in for. He helpfully suggested feeding her before I left. Allow me to note that when I attempted to feed her in the morning, she only screamed harder until she was SO starved that she finally ate. Fantastic. Let's try that again!

She did eat. That is the good news. The so-so news is that her eating stimulated a rather....significant digestive event. With a little training that girl could have sharted the alphabet. (Shart = poo + gas at the same time, for those who are older than twelve.) I thought, maybe that will take care of things! But upon checking it out, there appeared to be some...issues with the poo. *reminds self this is a public blog, and censors details*

Then, because I wasn't frazzled enough, we decided to rush her to the pediatrician's office to make sure everything was ok. Between worrying about Mikayla and juggling phone calls to cancel and reschedule my appointments, it was not quite the birthday I had pictured.

Thankfully, Mikayla got the all-clear from the pediatrician (diagnosis: the buffalo wings. The doctor had to call it "colic" for billing purposes, but let's be honest.). Yes, fair reader, with a single shake of a Frank's bottle I personally ensured gastric fireworks for my daughter and one heck of a birthday for myself. Oh, and did I mention that our pediatrician doesn't accept our new insurance? Cheers to Eden Park Pediatrics, please treat yourself to a lovely spa weekend, courtesy of our out-of-pocket fee.

But you know what? God is good. Mikayla is fine. Joel stopped for a Sheetz sub and Sonic shake for me on the way home. And I beat Joel at Backgammon last night after work (except for the times when he beat me).

Who ever said my birthday should be flawless and stress-free? Why shouldn't it be a reminder of all the ways God provides in the midst of my frazzled humanness? If this day was a sample of what's to come in my next year of life, I'd say we are in good shape indeed. A God who is faithful and a husband who serves me and our daughter. Who needs birthday presents? (Well...I'll be honest, the milkshake didn't hurt...)

[In other news, they weighed Mikayla at the doc's office and she is 13 lb 11 oz at three months old. Just thought you should know.]

SDG!

Maybe She'll Let Me Make Her Prom Dress

Hold onto your hot dogs, folks - momma learned to sew!

This is noteworthy. As some of you may know, I am good at lots of things. Walking while chewing gum, eating cupcakes, etc. But the things I am not good at, I really really just tank. Such things include, but are not limited to, statistics and sewing. I have had some far misses involving fabric and scissors (you read that correctly; I did not even get to the part where a needle was required.)

So imagine my delight when, today, for the first time in years, I operated a sewing machine with the result of a wearable, sewn-together item!

Now, granted, all I did was cut apart a pair of socks and re-sew to create a pair of very sock-like things. This is not exactly Home Ec. rocket science. But seriously. I have spent literally minutes envying people who can just throw together a little something to line a basket or cover a pillow, frustrated at my inability to make connections between the parts of my brain responsible for spatial reasoning and motor functioning. I sew about as well with my hands as I do with my feet. When you have a textile-related disability of this severity, coming up with two pieces of fabric that are joined with thread is really something.

But, thanks to our friends Chandra and Camille (who helped tremendously by repeatedly spitting out her pacifier and modeling her own Baby Legs), Mikayla and I magically transformed two pairs of adult knee socks into some adorable homemade Baby Legs! Behold:


Please note that I changed her into this outfit before heading to Chandra's place for our sewing tutorial, knowing that this onesie would match the to-be-created Baby Legs and that I would want her to look matchy and adorable as soon as they were finished. Please also note that I had not even snapped the onesie before she spit up all over herself. Finally, please note that I allowed my baby to wear her dirty onesie because I am nothing if not committed to matchy-and-adorableness. Even slightly soiled, matchy-and-adorableness. Please don't take away my momma membership card over this.

(I also happen to LOVE that she matches her crib sheet in this photo. WIN!!!) (What does it say about me that possibly my favorite photo of my daughter involves her rump rather than her face, because of a well coordinated color scheme?)

In summary, the magnitude of my neuroses is dwarfed only by my delight and gratitude to Chandra for helping me learn a new trick today. I told you this would become a blog post!

Now, off to pull my sewing machine out of the attic to see how many ways I can mess up what I learned not two hours ago...if I'm not on Facebook in thirty minutes, send someone with scissors to extract me...

Mikayla Grace at 2 Months

Our sweetheart at two months, outgrowing her little bear and wearing the sweater that Great-Grandma Pearce knitted for her:



Let's see if I can recall all the many things you have accomplished in the most recent month of your life! You are now holding your head up quite well, steady for several seconds before head-butting me in the shoulder. You look around, make eye contact with us, and follow with your eyes when we walk away. You usually turn your head when you hear our voices, but it sometimes takes a few seconds if you are looking at something really interesting (like our ceiling fan!). When we put you down on your belly, you often immediately push yourself up with your arms. We like to say that you can probably do more pushups than both your parents put together! Also, when we put you in your crib on your belly, you quickly and easily rotate until you are completely sideways. But only to the left; dadda says you are not an ambi-turner yet.

You eat like a champ, as evidenced by your consistent, chart-topping weight gain. I just moved you up to the small diaper covers today, as the x-small were getting tight - so no surprise when they weighed you at the doctor's office and said you are 12 lb 9 oz! That's the 90th percentile. Your length is 24 1/2 inches, which doesn't even get a percentile but is referred to as "high". Your head remains dainty at about 15 3/4 inches, the 80th percentile. The doctor says your height could still slow down, and we will know at 15-18 months whether you are really cut out to be tall like a Pearce or average like....well, me.

In other cuteness, you have found your fist and love to suck on it when your Nuk falls out. This is a great relief to your dadda and I, who have made endless, countless, numerous trips back and forth to your room to replace your Nuk when you're trying to fall asleep. Praise the Lord for this development! You are sleeping well through the night for a good 6-7 hours, waking around 6 or 7 to eat, depending on when you went to bed. We recently started a bedtime routine of nursing, praying, and singing with you. When I pray with you, I often get tears in my eyes because the moment is so precious. We prayed together for the people of Japan after the massive earthquake, and I cried then, too. I think we will add some reading soon to the bedtime routine, since you have so many wonderful books to get started on! The doctor said it is important for us to read to you even now. I wonder which book will be your favorite?

You have grown more accustomed to diaper changes and are often quite content while I change you. We have a silly little song that I sometimes sing while I am snapping up your clothes. I hope you find it amusing when you can understand it! Bathtime is hit or miss; you have had content baths, and others where you screamed the whole time. However. I recently discovered that you hide spit-up behind your ears (gross!!) and today at the doctor's office, I found more in your arm pits (embarrassing!). If you're going to be so yucky, than I am going to have to step up the bathing game.

It is so fun to watch you discover the world. Your eyes are so busy, and I can just see the wheels turning in your head as you soak up all the visual information you can. You are also getting more snuggly. My favorite time is getting you up in the morning, when you are not quite awake. You snuggle into my shoulder as you start to wiggle. Then, when we sit down to nurse, you stretch your whole body, arms up, and scrunch your face as you wake up. Then you are ready to chow down! Sometimes you eat for a few minutes with your eyes closed before you stretch and wake up. And when you are full, you stop nursing with a huge smile on your face, looking up at me with (I'm sure) great gratitude.

One last thing I'll blog about: you got some of your first vaccines today! We did cave in on the Hep B vaccine at your one-month visit, but today I went armed with information and a request to spread your vaccines out a little bit. I talked with the doctor about our concerns with the aluminum content of infant vaccines, and she was surprised - apparently I was the first momma to raise this concern to her. But we have read that the FDA has guidelines for how much aluminum adults should not exceed in vaccines and IV's (an amount per blood volume), and the amount that infants often get in their rounds of vaccines is many times that limit (for their tiny blood volume). There is no FDA stance on aluminum in infant vaccines. So we requested to get DTaP and Rotovirus vaccines today, and the doctor talked me into the HIB as well to protect against meningitis, since that one has no aluminum. She promised to research the topic of aluminum in infants to see if anything has come out since wht we read.

I am curious to know if any readers out there are familiar with this issue? Basically, infants easily get enough aluminum to reach toxic levels, but nobody has researched whether that's actually harmful or not. It might be fine. But we just don't know. And unfortunately, research on prenatal and infant medical interventions often comes long after the treatments have been used for many years. The book we read blames Big Pharma, since policy often follows the money. Either way, we are interested to know if any research has been done on this issue to determine whether the aluminum is safe or of concern. We're lucky to have a pediatrician who is open to spacing the vaccines and wants to learn more about the issue herself.

Well, if I can sum up a month of your life in one blog post, I think I've just done so. It seems there is a new milestone every time we turn around, from smiles to eye contact to developing muscle strength. We can't wait for the next thing, and to get to know you as your personality continues to emerge! We love you so much, little girl. Thank God that you continue to be healthy and happy - may it always be so.

SDG!

CIO Success!

Apparently there is mommy lingo to learn, the most poignant of which is currently "CIO", or "cry it out". I am pleased, nay, ecstatic to report that Mikayla just "CIO" for the first time this morning. I thought I'd try it for a nap before endeavoring a CIO bedtime, in case the experience turned out to be particularly harrowing. And guess what?? She CIO for about six minutes, in near hysterics, and then became totally silent. If it were not for my video baby monitor, I would have been concerned that she had suddenly cried herself to death. Literally. Not funny. The places my mind goes are not always pretty, as any longtime blog reader knows.

So after the six minutes and then a few minutes of silence, she whimpered softly a couple of times and then was OUT. The whole process took under 15 minutes!

I may or may not have required duct tape and Xanax to keep myself out of her room while she CIO.

But the end result is that I feel sooooo liberated from the tyranny of the nuk wars!! I am a CIO momma!! Praise the Lord!

What? You think I'm overusing my new acronym? Too bad, why don't you go CIO...

SDG!

Memories of a Momma

Life is going by so quickly these days. She is already seven weeks old, nearly two months, and while one day blurs into the next and I feel like everything is the same over and over again, I know that she is changing and growing with each passing moment. So, during one of these short pauses called "naps", I sit down to reflect on all that has been happening. Some things, some moments, stand out in my memory. Things I don't want to forget, ever:

The faces she makes during the morning feeding, as she's waking up slowly for the day. She scrunches her face, pulling away for a massive full-body stretch, only to realize she's no longer eating and immediately head-butt her food source.

Her wide-eyed, open-mouthed, entire-face smiles.

The man-sized toots and burps that come out of her little girl's body. And not just any man, they are dadda-sized!

"Nuk wars": When she spits her Nuk out about .05 seconds before she's asleep, waking herself up and sending herself into grunt-whimper-wail; it's the exhausted drawing of straws to help her find it, so that she can fall asleep. "I've got the next one if you go this time," hoping of course that there won't be a next one.

The time she was searching for her Nuk in the crib, rooting around feverishly with her mouth and exerting so much effort that she massively tooted at the same time. It happens to the best of us, honey.

The feeling I got when she first made eye contact while nursing. Ditto her first mid-feeding smile. Like I was the hero of the world...or at least of hers.

The way her little tush wiggles around in the air while she's falling asleep or waking up on her belly.

The way her face lights up when dadda talks to her after a long day with just momma.

The first time she tracked me with her eyes, long enough to watch me leave the room, resulting in actual fussing because she missed me.

The time she was eating peacefully and completely startled herself by giving a particularly loud suck. Full-body startle reflex included. She never even opened her eyes.

The particularly messy diaper changes, which we affectionately refer to by the number of wipes they require, i.e. "that was a four-wiper!"

How she loves to have her little fists up in the air, whether she's sleeping or hanging out, and when she flings them up when she's startled, we pretend she's saying "Glory to God!"

The enjoyment of watching her discover every little thing about this great big world. Things that we grown-ups take for granted, but which are truly amazing - like how we can move our hands around and kick our feet because of our muscles and brains, and drop things on the floor because of gravity.

The gradual emergence of her little (big?) personality - strong-willed and vocal, knowing what she wants and when she wants it. She's her momma's daughter, and will give us a run for our money when she turns 14.

The moments we share when I tell her that I love her soooo much. And when I tell her that reason I love her is not because she's beautiful, smart, or talented, but because God made her and gave her to me. I'm certain she understands, even when she gazes up at me with crossed eyes.


The sweetness of her dadda holding her and cuddling her, oohing and aahing over every blink and twitch and grunt. And the cuteness of his "baby voice" as he talks to her in "her language".


The moments are like grains of sand slipping through my fingers. The more tightly I close my hands around them, the fewer I hold onto. Already I have difficulty remembering the sweet feeling of her snuggling and sleeping on my chest those first few weeks. So I awake each day with open hands for the sand to flow over, watching the grains rush by and hoping that a few will be left in the cracks of my fingers for me to admire again, and remember. Or at least that the great growing, gathering of sand will be beautiful when I reach the end and look back.

And with that, this brief pause in the rush comes to an end because she is waking yet again...