Chesed

My friend Anita and I frequently keep each other grounded about the pros and cons of being married. Ninety percent of the time we are thrilled with life as is; but there are those days when the grass really does look a lot greener “over there.” Frankly, for me, this has much less to do with being a wife and more with being a mom.

Anita gets to live what I think is a very exciting life. She has sung on more international choir tours (you should see the envy oozing out of my pores) then I can keep track of under some very talented directors. She travels in Europe (not just has traveled once and I can’t even say that except for my brief stint in the British Isles). She is super involved in people’s lives and has been dean of women at two Bible Schools. She’s written a highly successful book geared toward single women, but in truth it is wonderful for all women. And while she says she is beyond the point of burnout, I can’t help but notice that her job is with other people who are by and large adult and that she has chosen to live alone as opposed to with her family so that she can have some peace and quiet. Peace and quiet. Tell me again what that is? Oh, yes, that temporary lull when the boys are both sleeping just before I start supper prep … subject to interruption at a moments notice, of course.

She, on the other hand, sees the tremendous security I bask in daily. I am inexplicably adored by David. I spend every day loving and taking care of two very normal little boys who are ours for keeps. I get to stay home, to plan my own schedule, and the demands of others are mostly demands from my immediate family … people I love so much it hurts as opposed to grouchy customers. While I only get to pursue my dreams in a limited way because of my 24/7 responsibilities, I have a 24/7 cheering squad (some people call him my husband). When I have had it with a days worth of snotty noses, clingy, whiny, volatile temper boys who suddenly forgot how to play and refuse to sleep at naptime, I get to roll my eyes at someone and we laugh at the crazy life we live together (key word being together, just in case you read that too fast.) When I cry, I get wrapped up in two strong arms. When I am tired, those same arms hold me for a few minutes until I feel some of his strength. Best of all, when I get quiet, someone knows and asks until I talk. I am sometimes lonely for social life; but I am never lonely in that aching, heart-stabbing, soul-mate missing loneliness.

Would I want to swap with her? Of course not. Would she swap with me. Never. At least not exactly with my life. Oh, she thinks David is perfectly amazing … for me, you know. Often when we talk we tell each other the wonderful parts of our life. But when stuff gets really tarnished and one or the other of us loses perspective, we straight talk each other with the jealousy we each have for the other’s life. Still, in the end, I admit that while her life has more excitement, she’s right that the grass is greener on my end. We both know it even without my saying it.

I worried a little that there was something amiss about me missing that independence. I mean, I prayed for years and years that God would give me a husband and family. In fact, when I was about ten I told the pastor at church I wanted to grow up and have twenty-six kids. One for each letter of the alphabet you know. His smiles was enormous and finally he managed to say, “Well, you know, you could maybe go with thirteen and their middle names could count, too. So I really am living out my dream (just not the 26 kids part!). Some days I can feel that so strongly it makes me want to cry happy tears and say things so sweet they are almost sappy. Like Saturday when the weather was like heaven on earth and we planted garden and built a sandbox for the boys and dug another flower-bed. Or Sunday morning when David and I were fixing food for lunch and drinking our coffee before the boys got up and before we started the mad dash of getting ready for church. Or that afternoon as I finished cleaning up the dishes and watched David pitch ball to Adam who is learning how to bat and Liam ran around them in circles trying hard to do everything Adam did. Do I love my life? Absolutely. So why the inner unrest that pops up at the oddest times.

Last week when we took the boys to the library I picked out two novels for me. I rarely read novels (one every few months) purely because I am still terribly undisciplined when it comes to reading. I don’t hide them in the bathroom vanity anymore and pretend it’s taking extra long in the bathroom because mom isn’t here to come knock on the door anyway. But I still get so engrossed I read and read and read. Fast and furious until it’s done and sometimes way too late at night. I love a good story.

One of the books I picked up was “Swapping Lives” by Jane Green (yes, I know that is supposed to be underlined but Safari doesn’t let me do anything dramatic in xanga. Silly Macs). Sort of like Anita and I, two women see the grass greener on the other side of the fence. Except the story line is fifty million times more fascinating and the women actually DO swap lives for a time. I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed this book. The story is great in itself; but lines kept jumping out at me as though they should be emblazoned with a hot pink highlighter. It was like someone was reading my mind and explaining to me why I felt the way I did.

…”it’s not that I want to leave you and the children. I don’t. I love you, and you know I love the kids, it’s just that ….”
….. “I never want to be without you and Jared and Gracie, not permanently. I just need a break. It’s not that I want to be single, I just want to remember what life used to be like. I feel as though I look in the mirror and I have no idea who I am anymore. What happened to the strong, successful, independent woman I used to be? How did I become a person whose sole topics of conversation …..”
… “This isn’t about you. This is about remembering who I am.”
… “When I think back to before I met Richard, when I worked in the city and had an apartment, it’s not even that it feels like a lifetime ago, it feels like it happened to someone else … I’d like to be reminded of who the real Amber is, who she was before she was defined solely as a wife and mother …”
….. “It’s not that I miss being single, it’s that I miss excitement.”
…. “All the passion she once poured onto her husband, she now pours into her children, leaving her with the comfortable feeling of an old pair of slippers.”

And suddenly I understood why I pursue things like writing and photography in the limited time and way that I do (even if it sometimes means losing ridiculous amounts of sleep). It’s why I don’t resist when David says, “You haven’t gone out with friends for awhile, why don’t you let me stay home with the boys one night?” It’s why I jump at the chance to help create a brochure or decorate the showroom even when I really don’t have time.  It’s why dinner is going to be late tonight because I finished writing this post.    It’s why my brain waves go flat when I get burned out and eliminate non-essentials. Because somehow even that tiny bit helps to keep a spark alive inside myself. Not a very bright spark, I’ll admit. But enough to help me remember, just a little, that I am still a person.

If you’re a mom, especially a mom to infants and preschoolers, what do you do to stay alive in your spirit? Or is the grass actually the greenest on your side of the fence?

Usually I just hit the recommend button when I like something on xanga; but just in case any of you are still using the old homepage layout and miss those, I decided to link this article.

In my opinion, normal life is just the greatest life on earth. Whenever I say I want normal life there is always someone who says, “Oh, what is normal?” and “Normal always changes.”

(Adam thinks this picture taking thing is great. He now insists that I pose for him “here” and look like “this” which most times means arms crossed and mad. He’s hysterical.)

Which is true. But I don’t know how else to describe our little family just living, well, normal life!

The two weeks prior to this one have been just crazy, crazy. Way too many places to go, people to see, jobs to do, obligations, and imminent deadlines. We had an evening financial seminar at church one week from Wednesday through Sunday. I absolutely loved our time there. Honestly. But the speaker went overtime by a half hour every service, it was full moon that week and the boys went nuts jumping off all our furniture, waking up an hour earlier then normal every morning and barely sleeping at naptime in spite of their very, very late bedtimes thanks to church. (Don’t ask me why. They don’t do that every full moon; but as soon as it was over they settled down.) I thought my sanity would explode with the effort of keeping their bodies intact.

Does it not seem like the most unfair thing to you that the days and weeks when we are the busiest, all the housework mulitiplies? Seriously. I could not keep my house cleaned up that week (or the next) for anything. Coming downstairs to a mess every morning is depressing. By Monday we’d recreated the Himalayas with laundry piles, David had a mentoring meeting in the evening, and I’d just found out a few days prior that it was my turn to have devotions at the church sewing Tuesday. And so the week continued with more things piled on top of more things on top of more things on top of more things. It didn’t help that I’d been dragging around with the flu and relapses of it for the last month. The boys and I missed the meeting Saturday night because I was running a fever again.

By the time the weekend rolled around, we were at least looking at fun things to do even if it meant more going away. Friday night David and I were invited to a sweetheart banquet an hour and a half away. We loved it! It was so much fun to go somewhere just the two of us and we got to meet some new, fun people, too. But oh, my word, talk about overextending the babysitting. I thought we’d be back by 9:30 or so and instead we were leaving the banquet about then with an hour and a half drive home! We picked up the boys and rolled them into bed. Jo, you have hours of babysitting credits at my house!

Saturday morning we met up with my sister, Beth, and family at a children’s museum. When we originally planned the outing, I didn’t think the week would turn out the way it did or we’d never have planned it. But we weren’t about to break a promise to the kids just because we were tired. The kids had so much fun it was unbelievable.

That night we drove to my parent’s place instead of home which was just the most relaxing, wonderful thing ever. My uncle and his wife were in the area so they joined us for supper and we had the greatest time talking and laughing and catching up. Mom fixed a special version of supper for Liam and for once I actually truly had a break from fixing food. It was amazing. Then she got even more super amazing and showed me the allergen free ice cream cones she’d found at the grocery store. We quickly popped one of his flavored goat milk yogurts into the freezer in hopes that it would harden before dessert time. It didn’t; but he slurped it up delightedly anyway ~ his very first ice cream cone!!!

The next day was just pure relaxation. Church with Mom and Dad, catching up just a little with an old friend, amazing food, happy kids, and warm sunshine. Oh, Spring. How I do love you.

And now we’ve had a whole week of what I call our normal and I am starting to feel amazingly rejuvenated in my spirit. Instead of going away every single day, we’ve stayed at home except for one evening birthday party. The mountains of laundry have disappeared and even the guest closet jammed full of clothes to be ironed is clear. My long, long to-do list is three quarters of the way checked off even though the boys and I have taken time to go on walks and to the park and read lots of stories. I enjoyed cooking dinner every night and on Adam’s suggestion, used china last night just because instead of throwing some food on the table as quickly as I could get it together.

The best gift of all came yesterday morning when the boys both slept til after 9. You know how you come to depend on that little break you get when they take a nap and how crazy you feel when you don’t get it? Well, when I get an extra hour, it feels crazy good! I sat down with a cup of tea and my Bible and a new journal (funny how new paper and a pen can make me ridiculously happy) and just soaked in that extra hour.

That’s normal life for us. Happy. Together. With enough time to enjoy just doing normal things. I love having time to call Adam to the door to listen to the spring peepers. I love thinking about the flavor of my coffee instead of gulping it down so I wake up enough to function. I love noticing the way the warm afternoon light streams through the door instead of racing past on my way up the stairs. And best of all, I love having my brain relaxed and free so that I really notice the cute things the boys are doing instead of just checking in to make sure they aren’t in trouble.

Our neighbor is going through a mean separation from his third wife. Earlier some things had happened and we were sure he was at the end of his rope. Now, to us, it looks like the ends are fraying. Tuesday night when David stopped in he was crying and just completely done in. He’d been drinking and didn’t want to talk then so David invited him to come for dinner and to talk the next evening. We went to bed praying that he wouldn’t do something desperate in the interim. By Wednesday evening he’d regrouped and for over three hours we sat at the dinner table and listened to parts of his life. At the end, I said, “I’ve had some really painful things in my life … enough to know what happens when you get hurt. But I cannot imagine a lifetime of pain and being hurt and taken advantage of by almost every single person around you.” To which he said, “I’ve only told you the tip of the iceberg.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard a rough story. But it’s the first time I’ve heard it without redemption at the end. You know, we usually hear the conversion story. And all my friends and their friends have mostly good stories. Well, 98% of them. There are a few really raw stories of emotional pain; but they are usually inflicted by one or two people in that persons life. Not one person pitted against the world. He’s angry at people and at God. Who could blame him for feeling that way? He equates God with people who go through the motions of “church life” and every encounter he has had with “God” has left him with a bitter taste in his mouth for good reason.

Ever since that night I cannot stop grappling with this question. How would I be convinced that God is a good God if I would have lived through what he has lived through? We say we believe that God is good. We say that God “lets it rain on the just and on the unjust.” We believe that God is good even when our prayers are not answered the way we want them. We cling to God in the face of trauma, death, financial loss, and hurt. Rightly so. But how much of what I believe to be true and what I cling to when stuff gets rough is because of what I have seen God do in the past? What if there were no history like that for me?

I know the right answers. And I believe them. I believe God is bigger then his horrible life and the choices he is still making. But knowing how hard I have grappled with the fundamental belief that God is good when life is horrible for a period of time, I keep wondering how I would believe if life would always have been horrible. Especially when that horrible was masked in Christianity.

More then ever yesterday, I could not stop being grateful for normal. Happy. Together. Living normal life. It’s not fair. But what a gift.

I always wish I was really creative. Well, I mean, what I really wish is that when I see something I really like while shopping that I would remember it when I get home. Apparently I have a case of selective memory. Right now I could totally ditch scrapbooking and get all caught up in making crafty things …. like throw pillows and chalkboards. The other day when my SIL and I stopped by Fabrics Unlimited to choose a fabric for a window seat, I even (gasp, this is not me talking) wished I had an excuse to design and make curtains. Has it really only been three years since we built this house and I said never again?

I think that for now I will mostly be dreaming. But a xanga friend of mine is doing more then dreaming. She’s creating. And now she’s selling, too. You should check out her adorable etsy shop.
And just how ceeeute are those aprons?

What they did on Sunday:

What I did on Sunday:

It was 50 degrees and sunny (and actually felt warm on the porch where the snow and porch floor reflected the light).  And we STILL have several inches of snow left almost everywhere.  How weird is that?

I’m on food kick today. I have no idea why except that maybe since I’m crawling out from under round #2 of the flu food actually tastes good again.

Aside from the two (shhh) brownies I ate today, I’ve been thinking a lot about food. Maybe it’s the rain outside. What is it about rain that makes me want to bake food and eat food? Mostly eat food. I wish someone would bring me a latte with caramel right now. Or at least some hot chocolate.

Today was a happy day for a lot of reasons.

1. I’m finally feeling better. People at this house have been sick for too long. It’s terrible when you all get sick at once. But really, this round after round of taking turns hasn’t been much fun either. The last two weeks have been the worst. Or maybe it’s just that my stamina was completely gone. Anyhow, aside from the fact that my head is still so plugged I don’t think any ear bones are capable of vibrating when receiving noise signals, things are going much better. Liam has a bit of a residual cough; but Adam and David are well again.

2. It is grey and rainy outside. Normally this would not help to make a happy day; but today it does. I think (or at least I hope) rain melts snow. We still have too much snow. I would really like to see some mud.

3. I was brave enough to give both boys hair cuts before their baths this morning. Liam hates hair cuts even more then I hate giving them. It usually takes one person to hold him down and one person to cut hair. But now they both look like self-respectable people again. Except they need their fingernails trimmed. What is it about ears and fingernails? They should come self-cleaning.

4. I have a new camera. This is the by-product of an unwise financial decision to use mileage based credit cards several years ago. When we started building our house, Steve and Christy lived in TX. We thought we were so smart paying $50 annually with a card that would quickly earn us flights to TX. Very funny. Or not. We bought most of our building supplies through someone David works with and he offered us a contractors discount OR the ability to pay with credit card … but not both. So the miles eeked up slowly and the black out dates are ridiculous. Why we still had the credit card after three years is more then I can say. Oh, I know. It felt like such a “waste” to throw away all those miles so we kept paying the annual fee. Ah, yes. Makes so much sense, doesn’t it. Finally we got smart and traded in the miles for product and now I get to have fun. Truth is, it was a good deal to get this for $150 in annual fees; and I did really want something small to throw in my bag for certain things. So the deals not sour. Just bittersweet. Because I can bet you some tomato basil soup from Cafe Europa we’d have used that $150 on something other then a second camera. Takes nice pictures though, no?

5. I’m feeling a little better. Oh, I already said that. My brain is still not processing normally and will not do so until Spring warms it. The other day I went to the doctor’s office and completely forgot to grab my diaper bag. No diapers. No wipes. No Liam-friendly snacks. Not even his sippy cup.
I walk into a room and have no idea why. Worse yet, I walk across the kitchen, stare aimlessly into the pantry or frig, and have no idea why or what I came to get.
On Wednesday I was desperate for a break. The boys were getting better at least and I was not yet sick so I took the boys all the way to Mom’s house and drove all the way back in order to go to Richmond with David. I was almost three miles down the road before I realized I had completely forgotten to wear a coat and we had to turn around. I don’t do well in winter. Not mentally. Not physically. Not emotionally. I do not think there was winter in the Garden of Eden.

But back to that food kick. Last week I found another menu that works for Liam. And that makes me REALLY happy. The jumping up and down kind of happy. A lot of our menus get centered around meat. This should make David happy, too. I think the Beachy family had an extra three or four meat lover genes embedded somewhere along the line. The problem is, there isn’t a lot of variety in the ways I get to fix it. Nix soy, dairy, and tomato and you’re just kind of stuck. Not so long ago when I met David for a kitchen photo session, we ate at Sticks. Great lunch. Great inspiration.

I concocted my own very simple marinade.

1/2 c. oil
1/2 c. vinegar
1/4 c. brown sugar
3 T. lemon juice
1 1/2 t garlic, minced (or three cloves)
dash of black pepper

The next time I do this I will, hopefully, plan ahead and marinate this overnight. In my winter stupor it never occurred to me to get the meat out until lunch time so it spent all of three hours floating in the brine. Too bad.


David grilled the steak til it was perfect and I served it on rice with homemade hummus on the side. Why do green things like hummus and guacamole look so disgusting on pictures? Oh, and I found mint tea concentrate in the freezer when I was looking for the steak. The combination of flavors in that meal was fantastic! After so many slightly boring potato and chicken menus, this was amazing. David said it was even better the next day. That’s a pretty high compliment in my book. Leftovers, better?

Speaking of food, it’s time to do something with the chicken sitting on the counter or dinner is going to be late. All this grey weather is making me want comfort food so I’m coupling our favorite creamy baked chicken (I’ll bake a seasoned chicken breast on the side for Liam) with one of our new Liam-friendly favorites. Peel and chunk potatoes. Place in pan and drizzle with olive oil, salt, and seasonings of your choice. We like Italian seasoning and garlic. Or fresh basil in the summer. Bake, covered, at 350 for one hour or until soft. These are perfect because the olive oil keeps them moist and eliminates the need for butter or sour cream later. What’s for dinner at your house?

On Thursday (I think)Audrey posted to ask everyone what they wish for that costs less then $20.00. Didn’t take me very long to figure that one out. The next day I was half embarrassed by my rather whiny, demanding little comment. Seriously, there are kids dying of starvation and all I can think to whine about is flowers? I was too busy taking care of sick kids to go back and comment again and too depressed about the whole situation to care terribly much. That night when David came home he asked why there is a box on the front porch. I had no clue.

He brought it in and I opened it to find a huge bunch of tulips. No name. Just a card that says: Remember, life is full of little surprises!

No doubt in my mind where those came from but I was speechless. Someone who has never even met me in real life overnight mailed me flowers because I thought it would make me happy???????? Audrey, I’ve been sending you hugs from my heart every time I look at them! The words thank you are so inadequate.

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Life just is not much fun right now. On Wednesday after taking the boys to the doctor, David started with a splitting ear ache. He hardly slept all night and the next morning informed me that he thinks his ear drum burst several times throughout the night because it kept building up pressure then popping and bleeding. He was acutely miserable and threatening to take more advil then allowed. He went to pull his brother out of the snow with the truck and by the time he got back it was only twenty minutes or so til he could get in to see the doctor.

Diagnosis: Raging ear infection. Not a burst ear drum but the pressure kept making little blood blisters that popped which explained the bleeding (and why the pain didn’t go away). He looked (and felt) awful but insisted he had to go to work because the snow has run them out of work for their guys. Let’s not even go into how stressful this is for all of us. Or how ridiculous it seems that one of the jobs would have been workable but the owners refused to have their lane plowed and so they couldn’t get in. I was not excited about the idea of him driving on vicodin with little sleep; but there wasn’t much I could do except pray that he’d be safe.

Mid afternoon he called home to admit he was heading home. He lay there, grey and miserable. At suppertime he vomited. I was plugging my ears and hoping it would still be a long time til I am pregnant after all. Liam was listening to the sounds from his high chair and went into one of the longest spasms of giggles I’ve heard in weeks.

The next morning David had definitely turned the corner although he is still draining horrible stuff out of his ear.

Adam has not gotten better.

His antibiotics are nearly finished. The ear that wasn’t infected on Wednesday gives him no end of grief. He seems to go more deaf every day. His cough is awful and Saturday morning he woke up with fever / chills / and so much sputum he threw up. I had to pick him up off the floor and carry him to the bed. Tonight he is nauseous. What would you do?

Liam’s cough gets worse every day. It feels as though life is one endless cycle of wiping noses and trying to keep the grumpies at bay and I’m just so tired of it. I’m tired of being crawled over. Of worrying. Of hearing horrible hacking coughs that make me think pneumonia. Of taking temperatures and giving more motrin. Of repeating everything I say five times because no one but Liam can hear me. Of having snot wiped on me. Of cold. Of snow. Of finally being able to get out the drive only to see a prediction for more snow.

Tomorrow I’ll be embarrassed for whining. And even tonight, my head knows that I am terribly grateful to have my family intact when I heard news of two women who lost their husbands and are tucking their children into bed alone. But tonight my spirit is just exhausted and all I want to do is cry and cry and cry.

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On Friday we tried to stave away a few grumpy hours by making valentine cards. It worked for Adam; but not so well for Liam. And while I don’t exactly get excited about doing crafty stuff, I’m getting better at it. Or maybe the truth is that since Adam is older and getting better at it, it’s not quite so horrible.




Liam was nonplussed. Crafty things for him are more like getting the raisens out of the drawer and dumping them over the floor.

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The boys have their head in the sand, I mean, snow. Thursday morning they woke up and insisted they could go shirtless and wear their water shoes. It made them laugh. What could I say? It can’t be any worse then me wearing a pink dress and pretending it’s Spring. The last time it hit 40 Adam thought it was warm enough to set up the swimming pool.

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I wish humans would hibernate. Or at least migrate.

Adam hates to clear the dishwasher. He can poke and poke and poke and poke around. If I don’t stay after him, it can take him over thirty minutes.

Every time a new job has become his responsibility, he dislikes it fiercely until he becomes good at it and then suddenly it’s old hat and he doesn’t complain, just gets it done. Somehow the dishwasher dislike has seemed to get worse instead of better. He’s become a master of getting Liam enthused about the job (yes, manipulation happening already) and coaches him patiently through putting away silverware and pots and pans. But then the job takes an hour.

Today David told him it’s time to clear the dishwasher and he is setting the timer for ten minutes. I’ve tried this trick myself and it usually only generates more complaining. Today he somehow realized David meant business and flew toward the dishwasher and started throwing things into drawers. About three minutes into the game he said with surprise, “Mommy, this goes really quickly when I hurry.”

Last summer when Liam was first officially diagnosed with his long list of allergies, I wished desperately for a blog that addressed his specific allergens. I found many, many blogs about allergies. Some of them were helpful. But so many times if I found a recipe that was dairy free, it contained wheat. Or if I finally found something gluten free, it still contained dairy. Or tomato. Or egg. Or soy.

I stumbled around in the kitchen feeling as though I didn’t know how to cook anymore. For awhile I used a lot of gluten free pasta and tried various substitutes. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes Liam didn’t like the food. Most of all, it was expensive.

I still use substitutes sometimes; but I have also learned to cook in a way that all of us can enjoy the same meal a lot of the time. I love it for several reasons. It’s a lot less work. Cooking separate dishes literally means cooking two meals at the same time … and twice the dishes. And, Liam eats better when he is eating the same thing he sees us eating.

My biggest challenge was that our family likes flavor RICH food. “Season it well,” is David’s motto. I turned our weekly recardo chicken over to him and it’s twice as good now because he is so liberal with the seasonings. Unfortunately, we have now run out of recardo seasoning and will have to survive without until someone goes to Belize again.

I really hope that none of you will ever need these recipes; but just in case, I’m going to post one occasionally and tag them with food allergies so they are easily accessible.

This is one of the first “regular food” meals I discovered Liam could eat.

Growing up in the South, we almost always had “hoppin’ John” on New Years Day. I don’t remember all the significance of the food groups … I just remember that the pork (bacon) was to signify prosperity and the greens indicated health for the coming year. We love this dish so when I discovered Liam can eat it, I started making it more then just at New Years.

My recipes are somewhat make and dump so if you need more specifics, feel free to ask.

To make hoppin’ John:
2 cups rice, cooked (We love basmati rice; but you can use whatever you like)
In a separate pan fry
bacon cut into bite sized pieces (I like the 12 oz packages of Oscar Meyer center cut) and
1 lb hamburger and
1 onion, chopped
Once fully cooked, add
1 can black eyed peas
the cooked rice
to the meat mixture. The reason this dish works well is that I can saute without using butter. Liam is so restricted that I suspect he needs a little animal fat. If you’re worried about your own intake, you could drain the meat and then saute in olive oil (although you will lose some of the flavor).
Saute a bit to get everything mixed and flavorful and season to taste with Lawry’s season salt (this has become my best friend in the kitchen … it’s one of the few brands that contains no MSG) and a little garlic.

Enjoy! We love this dish served with
cooked spinach — I add a little butter and salt and we each add our own vinegar sprinkled on top at the table (yeah, I’m the only one who eats seconds and wishes for more but David and Adam like it well enough to claim they “like” the first serving). Liam is still extra “gaggy” so I don’t push spinach on him yet. When I do, I will take a little aside for him before adding the butter.
a salad
and applesauce.

And there you go. No dairy, soy, tomato, gluten, or egg. Just a mouthful of flavor.

Yesterday our little family was at home alone. It was perfect. We have never in the seven years we’ve been married been home alone for a Thanksgiving or Christmas and rarely for New Years either. But since we did a double family holiday at Thanksgiving, it worked out that way. I suspect this won’t happen again for a very long time so we made the most of it.

The guys shut down their company from noon Christmas Eve til January 2 every year. And with Christmas and New Years Day falling on Friday plus the big snow that powered them down a little early, we are having a super long vacation. David took off all day Thursday instead of quitting at noon and we went to town to get fish and one or two other essentials I wanted. In the middle of traffic frenzy we meandered around choosing what we needed and delightedly watching the boys thrill over their lunch at Wendys. Such a normal little thing that suddenly feels like a miracle. I know that french fries are not healthy and David reminds me that Liam would have been better off without; but french fries are so much fun for kids! Wendys doesn’t have any wheat or milk in their fries like McDonalds does so Liam gets to indulge occasionally. He just loves them. And frankly, he probably needs a little unhealthy fat in there. He gets so many vitamins and supplements that David often shakes his head as he adds acidophilous, vitamin C, and omega 3-6-9 to his evening yogurt. “You’re going to live forever, boy,” he says sarcastically.

David took the boys outside in the snow while I finished up the cleaning and laundry after we got home. Between the snow, Liam’s abbreviated nap in the car and Adam’s non-existant nap, the boys were exhausted by bedtime and surprised us by sleeping til 8 the next morning in spite of the excitement.

It was so much fun to open gifts in the morning and have lots of time to play with them. Adam was thrilled beyond words with his fireman gear from Liam. I had so much fun choosing things for the boys this year. Since it was our year to get together with David’s family for Christmas, we started a Christmas fund in January so that we’d have the money ready when December rolled around instead of stressing. Every month, we put an alloted amount in the envelope. Well December came and we got to splurge a little on ourselves instead. After two years of saying, “No, I’m sorry, we can’t buy that,” over and over again, it was a blast to choose fun things!

And of course, guess what the boys played with most? Cardboard box and boards.

My favorite gift to David was a CD of the Kings Singers. (He got the other part of his gift early when he unpacked my suitcase after I told him not to look in it. He said, “Well, I thought it would be in a bag or something that I wouldn’t just see it.) One of my very favorite Christmas moments was when the boys were down for naps and we stood in the kitchen with our arms around each other and laughed and laughed at the words to the first song on the CD because I knew even before he said it that it describes me almost uncannily. I couldn’t find the Kings Singers version (which is absolutely gorgeous) on youtube but here’s a similar version.

Ever since we’ve moved here I have wished and wished for end tables for our living room. We have exactly one sofa and one recliner plus one scratched and dented end table from a thrift store that is sometimes in the living room after serving as my nightstand for awhile. I want more furniture so we have more seating room someday; but for now I at least want a place to set my coffee mug and more importantly a place to put lamps. David is a stickler on comfort lighting. He hates overhead lights with a passion. We have exactly two dim lamps in the living room; but he will entertain there in the darkness much to my chagrin. I love lamplight, too, but you’ve got to have enough of it and if you don’t have it then TURN THE LIGHTS ON! He says I should buy lamps but I don’t want floor lamps if we’re going to have end tables some day and I’m not going to buy table lamps if we don’t have anything but the floor to set them on. After hemming and hawing and not really knowing what I wanted for Christmas, I woke up to the truth less then a week prior. End tables.

When we go shopping for furniture, it’s useless. We walk into a store and David immediately starts jiggling the drawer a little, checking to see if it’s dovetailed, tapping and checking the quality of the wood, the way it’s put together, the finish …. “piece of junk” he mutters. I could make something with quality for that price. But if we go to a store with gorgeous, quality furniture there are more problems. One. We probably can’t afford it. Or two, he mutters about being able to do the same thing for half the price. I do not like that it is probably going to take us twenty-five years to get furniture in our house; but I do think it is very special to have a house with beautiful, custom pieces made just for us by someone who loves us very much. So I emailed him at work one day and told him I really wanted end tables for Christmas and since it’s such short notice he could just get the lumber and make them later. I gave him a few other easy options but tried to drop enough hints that he would know how very much I wanted end tables.

I can almost never surprise him. He on the other hand, can lead me up and down to kalamazoo and I never know what he is planning. It took him forever and a day to wrap my gift and when it landed on the pile with the rest it was about two feet long and a few inches wide. I honestly was expecting a pile of lumber out back or then a very tiny box indicating a certificate inside. Especially after Adam tried to be like me and give me hints without telling the secret and said it has something to do with tools. The bad thing was I couldn’t even remember what else I’d told him I wanted and so I had no idea if this was the right shape for any of them or not. Halfway into the package the next morning I knew what he’d done and oh, I am almost giddy! Who would have dreamed a woman could get so happy about two boards?

We also used some of our Christmas money to buy fresh fish for dinner. David, Adam, and I all love fish; but we rarely buy it. I couldn’t remember ever giving fish to Liam; but he eats shrimp so I thought I’d risk it. More then anything else, I wanted to come up with a menu that we all love AND that is Liam friendly. I’m not sure why this is so important to me; because he would have happily sat there eating something different. But especially on special days like this, I want to celebrate in a way that includes him 100%. We chose wild caught salmon and flounder. David grilled them both; the salmon basted with a molasses and vinegar sauce and the flounder with olive oil, Lawrys season salt and garlic salt. I served an herbed rice pilaf and greek salad (two of our other family favorites) on the side and Liam got cooked carrots instead of the salad. He eats cooked carrots almost like marshmallows. And just like our family, no one wanted any dessert. Just more fish, please. Adam and Liam both asked for additional helpings on fish FIVE times!


We flew through the dishes and headed out to sled. It started sprinkling rain as we headed out but we didn’t care. All those hills that are so horrid to mow and don’t leave us much room for playing ball in the summer turn into natural wonders in the snow. And I learned all over again why boys have daddies and not just overly protective mommies. David sent Liam down on a saucer by himself. I shrieked the first time I watched him go even though he told me he’d done it the day before and Liam loved it. He went flying down the hill just beaming. And when he got to the bottom of the hill, he said another new word. “Mo” (More)

Adam made his first gingerbread house this year, too. Knowing my very low frustration threshold with all things crafty that also include kids, I wisely waited till David was home to help. Liam mostly zoomed happily around on the floor playing and the three of us squirted frosting and placed candies. Adam insisted on icicles and a wreath and evergreens in the corners.

And now Christmas is over for another year; but vacation has just begun. I just feel so grateful and happy for this happy, happy time in our lives. Christmas a year ago wasn’t the easiest Christmas for us. I can hardly get over my gratitude at celebrating happily with my family. There are women who cried yesterday because their babies are in heaven instead of crawling around on their living room floor sticking wrapping paper in their mouth. There are women who cried yesterday because they would GLADLY have cooked enormous amounts of food yesterday if it meant they were celebrating with a husband and family instead of feeling indescribable pangs of loneliness deep inside their heart while their faces celebrated and laughed with siblings, parents, nieces and nephews. There are women who cried yesterday because their family is not a place of laughter and safety but a place of stress, slammed doors, and meals eaten in silence. There are women who cried yesterday because instead of juggling a seven month old teething baby and Christmas dinner, they watch yet another woman glowingly announce her pregnancy and give birth while their womb remains empty. There are women who cried yesterday because they did not have enough food to fill their children’s hungry tummies. And there are women, like me, who cried with gratitude yesterday because they do have those things even though they don’t deserve them. Thank you, God.
{ more photos here }