Sugar, coffee, cupcakes, and meal plan

We are completely out of sugar.  Completely out.  All gone.  We have honey, brown sugar, and confectioner's sugar, but none of those seem quite right to put in coffee.  And while pregnant, I need to have a bit of sugar in my coffee--the sugar cuts through the acidity and lets my stomach accept it.

We do, however, have sweetened whipped cream. Therefore, I am thoroughly enjoying my coffee today.

Last night we were at my parents' house to do our family birthday celebration (3 out of 5 of us have birthdays within a three-day spread in February).  It was fun, and I made the most amazingly delicious cupcakes ever.  If the camera battery were not completely dead, I would put a picture up.  But here is the recipe for Black Bottom Cupcakes from the Joy of Cooking. 

We didn't get in the car to go home until a little after ten PM, and within minutes Lizzie was out cold.  She slept while I got her out of the seat, woke up for a few seconds when I told her I would get her baby and her blanket (to which she said, "Please"), and didn't make a peep when I put her in the crib and removed her shoes.  Let me tell you, that has not happened in ... I would venture to say a year.  She slept all night long.    We had a full day yesterday, and she had no nap. 

My menu planning concept has been lost recently.  Sam working afternoon/closing shift more days than not has confused me when it comes to dinners.  It seems futile to make an entire meal for myself and a somewhat particular toddler.  Yet, having fewer real dinners makes for considerably fewer leftovers for him to eat for lunch before leaving for work.

So, this is the plan:
Real dinners:
- Baked Ziti
- Steak w/ marinated onions
- Pork chops w/ cabbage
- hamburgers/sliders
- something out of the freezer
- drive thru/out

Lunches:
- leftovers
- sandwiches (with some homemade bread?)
- quesadillas (I've been craving refried bean and cheese quesadillas almost daily lately!)

Breakfasts:
- waffles
- egg/sausage or Canadian bacon/cheese bagel sandwiches
- eggs, cereal, oatmeal... the usual.

It's my (belated) birthday!

I turned 30 yesterday.  I guess I should update my "introductions" page to reflect that, huh?

We had a lovely day.  Aside from a mandatory meeting at work, Sam had the day off.

He surprised me by taking me to a restaurant that takes reservations.  I believe it was the first time in the 6 years we've been dating or married that we have ever gotten a dinner reservation.  Technically, it was a lunch reservation, but that's beside the point.

I am kicking myself for not taking any pictures--my hair even looked pretty nice.  The only picture we got from yesterday was this one:

What can I say?  She likes sparkly things.

The three of us went together to Fogo de Chao.

It.

Was.

Amazing.

For years I have heard about it.  Each seat has a coaster that is red on one side and green on the other.  Green means, "Yes, please," and red means, "No thanks."

{image credit}

They have waitstaff who walk around carrying meat on skewers, and if your coaster is turned to green, they approach your table, tell you what they have, and cut it right off onto your plate.  At one point we had 4 different waiters with 4 different kinds of meat surrounding us.  It was a bit overwhelming.  Sirloin, pork ribs, lamb chops, and filet mignon, all at our fingertips.  You can eat until you can't sit upright any longer.  The salad bar alone is gourmet, but the meats they bring you are so good.

Aside from the toddler who didn't want to sit in her chair, and wanted to walk laps around the tables, it was one of the most delicious and fun dining experiences I've ever had.  They even brought us a complementary Happy Birthday flan.

It too

Was

Amazing.

We came home, where Sam went immediately into a food coma, and Lizzie "napped" for 20 minutes in the car on the way back; thus, there was no break for Mommy.  So I finished the laundry I'd started before lunch, while following the bouncing toddler from one mode of entertainment to another.

Dinner consisted of leftovers in various forms.  Spaghetti.  Bean & cheese quesadillas.  Cereal.

After the littlest person was in bed (at a decent hour for once) we watched 'The Proposal' off Netflix.

{image credit}

Sam had not seen it, and I decided I would just turn it on, and he could join me if he wanted to.  Eventually both of us, one of the cats, and the dog, were all on the couch.  Oh, we laughed so hard.  Sam and I did, that is.  The cat and the dog were just basking in the privilege of being on the couch with us.

Being 30 is not bad.  Not bad at all.  In fact, I wouldn't mind turning 30 every day.

*        *         *         *         *

Though I am late in joining up to the Home Sanctuary Company Girl Coffee blog hop, I had every intention of joining it yesterday.  However, the day filled up quickly and I never got a chance.  Have you hopped with these bloggers before?  Now is your chance!

The Results Are In! (20 weeks)

 We all went to my 20 week appointment this morning.  Sam held Lizzie and a camera while we watched the screen.  

Lizzie recognized emphatically that there was a "bayee" on the "puter" but didn't really make the connection that we were watching the baby in Mommy's belly.

Our second child has 2 arms that stayed up near the face during the whole ultrasound.  

We were waved at multiple times. 

 

 This little one has two cute little feet...

 

And two cute little legs...

And girl parts.

Lizzie has a baby sister!

Lizzie's 1st Haircut

Dun, dun, dun!

A few nights ago, while Lizzie was bathing, I had finally had enough of her wet little rat tail, and got out the scissors. 

I have never cut Lizzie's hair before.  Yes, she is nearly two years old.  

The thing is, her hair has several strange traits, none of which make it a candidate for a haircut. 

For one, her hair grows from a swirl from the back of her head.  See it, just southwest of the easterly pigtail?  That is where her hair grows, and it grows forward.  If she were to have bangs, they would of necessity start behind her ears.

 

Secondly, her hair is fine, and even on her first birthday, it was about as long as a grown-out buzz cut.

Finally, on top of getting my exact color and hair texture, she received the cowlick that I also got from my mom.  Thanks, Mom.
The tricky thing about this cowlick is that it is also on the opposite side from the thick swirl in the back of the head.  It's like the perfect storm, colliding mid-head.

 

 

Fortunately, her hair is finally long enough that we can get it in pigtails, and for a few minutes, even a braid.  Do you see the random strands in the back, that are a couple of inches longer than the rest?  Those are the ones I decided must be dealt with.

So just days after that cute little braid, I got out the scissors.  I would advise against the covert bathtime haircut method.  It was going fine until . . . .

That missing chunk will grow back--right?

At least the other side looks pretty good.  And at least I didn't give her bangs that go around the whole front half of her head.  At the rate her hair grows, she'd still be working on growing those out in middle school.

Not bad for a first try.

Do you cut your own kids' hair?   I'm not sure I will do this again for a while, but I'm also not sure I would take her to one of those fancy kids hair cut places.  What do you do?



I'm linking up with Alicia's Try New Adventures today!

Teenager in Training

A Valentine's Variety

This morning we colored a heart for Daddy.  It is on the refrigerator, awaiting its discovery. 

Lizzie loves to "tolor"

Sam is working this evening, so we already had a couple of special dinners at home over the weekend.  If you don't know what to make one day, give this One Dish Pork Chops and Cabbage dish a try.  We haven't ooh'ed and ahh'ed so much over a meal in a long time.  And the best thing is, it's inexpensive and easy.  But I had to reduce the size, since I didn't have such a large roasting pan.  I'm sure you could improvise.

I gave Sam a card.  He's going to take me out on a for real date sometime in the next week or two, when we can arrange for a babysitter.  (i.e., when my mom is not sick and feeling like crud.)

After eating some special Valentine's Day dinner leftovers, Lizzie and I went outside and crunched in the leaves.  It is a gorgeous day.  Sunny and over 60 degrees F. 

crunch, crunch, crunchy leaves

Then we watched High School Musical, which I had never seen.  (Gasp!)  I know, way to be half a decade behind the times, Cindy!  Anyways, Lizzie was enthralled.  She couldn't get enough of the singing.

Lizzie says the word "singing" frequently, and it sounds like "sinnee" - which Sam is convinced is her saying, "Cindy."  He laughs every time she says "sinnee."

I am now 19 weeks pregnant.  People can look at me and tell that I'm pregnant.  I'm starting to feel the occasional movement - most of the time I can identify it as baby, sometimes I'm not sure and it could be gas.  We find out (hopefully) whether this kid is a "he" or a "she" next week.  That will be a fun birthday present. :)

Please disregard the clingy child and the unmade bed.

My feet are beginning to swell.  It usually only happens when I sit for too long, or if I am standing for too long.  I can tell if I spent an excessive amount of time on the computer by the end of the evening, depending on how thick my ankles are.  I can't wait to see what kind of shape my legs will be in by the time this is all over.

Coffee Cake Today

This morning I couldn't sleep, so I got up a bit earlier than usual, inspired to make a coffee cake for breakfast.  It just came out of the oven, and I am pretending I don't hear Lizzie making her, "Hey, I'm awake, is anybody going to come get me?" noises.  I am SO looking forward to coffee cake and coffee to go with it.  There's enough to share, Company Girls!

I'm here with a fried egg, to balance out all the carbohydrates I'll be consuming.  I recently re-learned that carbs without protein make for one very mean lightheaded and shaky mama, so especially while pregnant, I'm trying to make sure I don't go more than a couple hours without something with more protein.

Sam doesn't have to go in to work for another hour and a half, so I am enjoying knowing that if I hop in the shower now, he can hold down the fort.  Then I will be bright and clean, and get to enjoy my coffee cake and coffee.  This is getting better and better.

Plus, I had a quiet time, while waiting for the coffee cake to finish baking.  I've been plugging away in John.  Lately I haven't had a specific direction, so when that happens, and you're tired of psalms, you can't go wrong with John.  Granted, I have been still reading breakfast psalms off and on with Lizzie.  But that's not really going to fill my heart when I'm trying to convince her to eat her waffle.  A couple of days ago I shared a huge revelation from John 5, and if you have a minute, jump over to read all my excuses for why I don't live the life I had dreamed. 

So it's shaping up to be a great morning.  Now, it's time for a shower, then my long-awaited coffee and cake!

Sneaking

Do you have to hide your junk food from your children, too?

Disguised as coffee.  One day she will catch on.  Until then, it's all mine!

Excuses, Excuses!

Misery doesn't only love company, misery also loves excuses.

This morning I was reading John 5, which is an account of Jesus healing an invalid (*) man. 

*Years ago, when I was on a Bible Quiz Team, we were studying this chapter and one of my teammates had been reading the word "invalid" not as a cripple, but as in, "Invalid response. Abort, retry, fail?"  That poor in-valid man, no wonder he wanted to be healed.  

image credit

 OK, back to the issue at hand.

Jesus asked him a direct question:

"Do you want to get well?"

That's a great question, isn't it?  The answer is kind of rhetorical.  Of course he wants to get well.  If not, he wouldn't be where he is, lying there, waiting for hand-outs, and trying to get into the pool of water (which would occasionally be stirred up by an angel, and whoever got in first got healed--Hey, don't look at me funny, I'm just rephrasing the footnote in verse 4).

But the answer that the man gave Jesus is not what we would have expected. 

"Sir," the invalid replied, "I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred.  While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me." 

He starts in with excuses.  He gives all the reasons for why he is not well.  He's already given in to defeat (it had been 38 years, after all), so he's offering an invitation to his pity party.

I hear refrains of, nobody helps me, everyone else gets to do what they want, and life isn't fair.

Maybe I only hear that because those are the thoughts in my own mind, more frequently than I would like to admit.  Frankly, life isn't fair.  And a lot of days I argue that fact, wanting fairness, wanting my turn to do something I want to, or at least wanting a break.  

I don't know what Jesus saw in the invalid man that day, but I'm glad He took the initiative to get involved.  Jesus didn't ask him any other questions, didn't preach to him, and didn't rebuke him for his train of thought.

If I imagine this scene, the man is still lying there, maybe not even looking at Jesus.  He might be looking at the pool, bitter with disappointment that it has never yet been his turn.  Perhaps he was thinking of all the people who had let him down by not helping him quickly enough, or maybe not even being there at all.  I imagine Jesus nodding, then interrupting his thoughts with a completely new idea.

Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.”  At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.

That was it.  It was as though Jesus had said, Since no one is able to get you into the pool quickly enough, why don't you just jump in there yourself?  And he got up and walked.

So often in my mind I hear a question, like, "Do you want to do something with your days?" and instead of answering, "Yes!  Of course!" I start going on and on about how I can't.  Because there are groceries to be bought and lunches to be made and floors to be vacuumed and laundry to be put away.  Because there are facebook statuses to be commented on and pictures to be uploaded.  Because everyone else goes out and has fun and I have to stay home and hold down the fort.  Because there's a baby on the way and I am certain I will never again accomplish anything except feed, change, and carry.  Because it's been so long since I've had a life and felt like I was contributing to anything beyond the confines of my small and cluttered house. 

And Jesus nods and asks, "Well, why don't you just stand up and start doing something?"

I believe I read this today because I'm at a critical point.  He is asking me, "What do you want to do?" and I don't even have an answer.   I have been thinking that the answer has been, "No, I can't do that," for so long that I have lost the ability to hope beyond just making it to bed at the end of the day.  I have a feeling Paul was addressing this reasoning as well when he spoke "of all men to be pitied." 

The option is there--to believe that what Jesus offers is everything I need to be everything He's called me to be.  I can just believe that He has given me everything I need for life and godliness.  If I will stop with the excuses, and get up and walk, He has a great and miraculous story to unfold.  

I'm linking up with the Soli Deo Gloria girls again today. 

A 20-Month-Old's Jokes

My little baby daughter turns 20 months old tomorrow.  Out of the teen months and into the "almost 2" stage. 
We had her 18 month checkup today.  (Yes, we got a little behind; it's how life is these days.)  She is a whopping 22 lbs and 33-1/2" long.  Tall and skinny, and pure muscle.  Unfortunately she had to have 2 shots, and she did so well.  Only a minute of crying, and it all stopped when I kissed her leg where the band-aids were.  She's taking a good little nap and hopefully sleeping off the grumpies.

Lizzie is a chatterbox.  Really.  I spent some time today writing down every word that I could remember that she uses regularly, and they filled a page front and back!  That's just from off the top of my head (while I watched a bit of PBS Kids with her). 


Even better than her talking is her sense of humor.  She tells jokes.  They are usually like rhetorical questions, and the answer is always, "Noooooo....." with a smirk.

The first time we noticed her creative sense of humor was when we were eating out and she was 16 months old.  Sam and I had ordered two different things and they both looked delicious.  I was getting Lizzie situated with her food, so I had hardly gotten a chance to taste my own food when Sam asked if I had tried his yet.
I said, "No, but I really want a bite."  At that moment Lizzie grabbed my hand, took a gentle bite on my finger, and laughed.
Sam and I looked at each other and couldn't believe what she had just done.  She told her first joke.

More recently, Lizzie has started to tell jokes with words.  Most often she likes to go with the obvious.

About a month ago I put her hair in a ponytail.  Her hair is still so short that a ponytail is kind of a pathetic attempt, but it usually keeps the hair free of boogers, yogurt, and rice, and she doesn't usually pull it out.
She was so fascinated by having a ponytail like mine, and kept saying, "Mama, hair," while trying to grab my ponytail.  And then touching her hair and saying, "Zizzie, hair."  Then a few minutes later, the conversation would repeat.  Eventually she started saying, "Daddy, hair," with a bit of a sparkle in her eyes.  She'd wait for a response from me, then say, "Nooooooo," and laugh.

Last week she saw me putting on makeup, which she calls "mape-mup," and she asked for some on her cheeks.  Really, she did.  She pointed to her cheeks and said, "mape-mup, tzseek." So, being completely amused, I brushed her cheeks with my empty powder brush, and she happily watched me finish my routine.  Then the following conversation ensued:
"Mama, mape-mup."
"Yes, Mama is wearing makeup."
"Zizzie, mape-mup."
"Yes, Lizzie has makeup, too."
Lizzie smiles.  "Yaydee, mape-mup."  (Lady is our dog).
"Lady wears makeup?"
"Nooooooo," with a knowing smirk.
No, silly girl.  Lady doesn't wear makeup.

It just gets more entertaining here every day.

Adventures in Breadmaking (1)

Last week I struck gold at the Salvation Army store nearby.  I've had several adventures there, one of which included locking the baby in the truck.  In fact, I hadn't been back since November; I guess that particular time was pretty traumatic.

For years I have thought in the back of my mind that it would be wonderful to have a bread machine.  About 20 years ago my parents bought a DAK machine, which is still running, even though the DAK company has been defunct for years. 

image credit DAK Auto Bakery

Nothing could quite compare to walking in the door from a long day of errands, piano lessons, or just being outside, and meeting the aromas of dinner in the crock pot and a golden loaf rising in the bread machine.  My mom is smart; she knows that errand day requires dinner to be made by a machine.

There have been a few times in the near 6 years I've been married that I have attempted to make yeast breads.  The effort was grand, and the results were less than stellar.  The conclusion is, if I want bread, it has to be the quick bread variety (like banana or beer bread), the kind the comes out of a can that pops when you open it, or I have to buy it made already.

But, this all changed when I saw this beast on the floor near the appliances.  And for only $12.99, I nearly squealed!

Really pretty, right?

I opened it, inspected it, took it apart (partially), put it back together again, plugged it in--everything checked out.  I hurried eagerly to the register and bought it before anyone else could see it and take it out from under me. 

When I got it home, it took me hours of searching online for a manual and printing it (seriously, it took me 45 minutes to figure out how to print the pages into a double-sided booklet), and it took me literally several days of prying, scraping, and pounding, using olive oil, two screwdrivers, and a spatula to remove the dough hook from the bowl.  Apparently many yeas of disuse left it nearly fused to its washers.  But I was not to be deterred!  I was at least going to test it out to make sure it worked.  I figure that at this price, if we get a half dozen loaves of decent bread, we'll get our money's worth. 

It takes up as much room on the counter as a microwave, and there's no way that and a crock pot or rice cooker would all fit in the kitchen at the same time.  It has to live on the floor in the garage when it's not being used.  But who cares, if the house can smell like a bakery for a few hours every couple of days?

Bread, glorious bead!

So far, I've made pizza dough, which was a success, and one beautiful loaf of egg bread, which will surely not live long enough to see the light of day tomorrow. 

Gorgeous and perfect egg bread, wouldn't you say?

I can't wait to try out wheat bread, cinnamon rolls, and bagels!

Do you have a bread machine?  What's your favorite thing to make?

Morning Psalms

I have to wonder how those who hold to the belief that one's personal quiet time should be done first thing in the morning don't "backslide" terribly during the infant and toddler stages of motherhood.  Or maybe they just don't have kids.  Having someone in your family who wakes with--or before--the dawn and demands your undivided attention does not typically make for a peaceful and quiet time of early morning communion with your Creator.  Or maybe it's just me.

Truthfully, I have had about 3 mornings in the past 4 months in which I awoke before my daughter and managed to engage in a prayerful and healthy devotional time.  Now that Sam is working and has to be out the door early, and now that I am able to drink coffee again, and now that I am able to make it through my morning without being sick, my mornings have become much more pleasant.  Beautiful, even.

As I've dealt with this reality, I've also been wondering about and praying for a way to incorporate the Word of God into my daily routine in a way that includes my daughter.  She knows what the Bible is (Duh, it's a book that is very big, and covered in leather, with shiny page edges), and she was taught at a very young age the parlor trick of throwing her hands up in the air when we say, "Praise the Lord!"  She has her own board book of "Baby's First Bible" and she points out Jesus.  And the kitten and puppy who are on almost every page.  She often wants to pack her Bible with us in the diaper bag when we go to church.


For a little while, and not with incredible consistency, I have been reading one psalm aloud to my 19-month-old at breakfast.  She loves to hear words she recognizes:  high, strong, house, sky, face, horses, clap, and praise the Lord! 


It is really the most fun I've had reading the Word in a long time.  We laugh and clap and use hand gestures.  It is a very small practice, but if it were more elaborate, there's no way I would be able to keep it up.  Some days, this is pretty much the extent of my spiritual depth.  As it is, it is approachable, it is doable, and it is a lot of fun!


Usually I have to stop every few words to help her with her breakfast.  Yes, it takes us at least 10 minutes to read through about 20 sentences.  But it works for us right now, and it's so worth it.