For this final post of 2010, I thought about linking to my goal list from last January, and crossing off each goal accomplished. Then I got looking at it, and realized how very, very few of those goals were in fact accomplished, and decided to do something else.
Here, for your reading pleasure this weekend, are my favorite posts from each month of last year. Some are deep, some are contemplative, some are just fun. I guess there's something there for everyone!
Happy New Year, my friends. I hope 2011 is a blessed twelve months for all of us.
January: Riches
February: Stitched Together
March: Kitchen Heart
April: Subverting a Wedding
May: Tulips and Ducklings
June: Turning of the Wheel
July: Just a Mom
August: Up
September: Journey Toward Grace
October: Riverdance on Ice
November: Theology and Love
December: Plea for Kindness
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
First Memory
My very earliest memory is from when I was very small. I was in a strange crib, and the sheets had duckies and chickies on them. It was very dark, and very cold, and a bright light was shining from the hallway, so I could just see shadows as they passed the doorway. Then one shadow stopped, and I heard a strange man's voice, and I was scared and started to cry, and then my mother was right there beside me. And it was all right.
When I asked my parents, at one point in my childhood, where my sheets were with the duckies and chickies, they told me we never had crib sheets like those. After talking it over, we realized that I was remembering from when I was in the hospital with pneumonia, when I was two. (I don't remember if I ever told them I was scared of the doctor. Probably not.)
I fretted for a little while over what my children's first memories were going to be. I remember reading in one of the "Anne" books about how Diana was determined to have her child's first memory of her be sweet. Well, that sounded good to me, but how could I ensure that for my child? How could I be certain they wouldn't, by some trick of the mind, remember a well-deserved discipline instead, or even something completely different, like being in the hospital with pneumonia? I can't really control what my child's earliest memory will be.
But even though my first memory is somewhat bland, my overall emotion when I think back to my entire childhood is contentment. Not fear, not worry, not stress, but happiness, love, and peace.
In the end, it isn't, I think, so much about what your first memory is, as it is about what story your memories overall tell. And I hope for my children, as it was for me, that story is one of love and happiness.
No matter what their very first memory might be.
(This is part of the Madhouse carnival. Check out what others have to say about first memories!)
When I asked my parents, at one point in my childhood, where my sheets were with the duckies and chickies, they told me we never had crib sheets like those. After talking it over, we realized that I was remembering from when I was in the hospital with pneumonia, when I was two. (I don't remember if I ever told them I was scared of the doctor. Probably not.)
I fretted for a little while over what my children's first memories were going to be. I remember reading in one of the "Anne" books about how Diana was determined to have her child's first memory of her be sweet. Well, that sounded good to me, but how could I ensure that for my child? How could I be certain they wouldn't, by some trick of the mind, remember a well-deserved discipline instead, or even something completely different, like being in the hospital with pneumonia? I can't really control what my child's earliest memory will be.
But even though my first memory is somewhat bland, my overall emotion when I think back to my entire childhood is contentment. Not fear, not worry, not stress, but happiness, love, and peace.
In the end, it isn't, I think, so much about what your first memory is, as it is about what story your memories overall tell. And I hope for my children, as it was for me, that story is one of love and happiness.
No matter what their very first memory might be.
(This is part of the Madhouse carnival. Check out what others have to say about first memories!)
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Joy and Comfort
Happy Boxing Day, everyone.
I don't have my camera cord here at Mom and Dad's with me, so no Christmas pictures yet, but rest assured we had a lovely day. There were lots and lots of tears: good ones, as when Mom gave Dad the small milk bottle from his grandparents' old dairy - something he has been searching for for years, and has never been able to find; or when Mom opened the beautiful sweater and necklace Lis helped Dad find for her, after they had decided they weren't going to buy any presents for each other this year because they had bought a house. There were also some sad tears, when we all went to visit Grandpa in the nursing home (first time since I can remember that he hasn't been able to come to our house for Christmas morning), and when we all went to see Grandma. I'm not quite sure there's anything harder than seeing your Dad cry, unless it's seeing your Dad and your uncle cry.
Then there were the tears of laughter, of enjoying being with each other so much, of Uncle Andy's bad jokes that had Carl wheezing for air and wiping his streaming eyes.
There was the phone call from the Australian uncle, who is planning a trip home in the spring, talking to him for the first time in twelve years. There was Gracie spending the entire day attached to her new stuffed kitty. There was Joy finally warming up (again) to Uncle David and playing tea party with him. There was our "third sister" teasing Carl unmercifully about the card game they were losing against Lis and Andy.
There was Mom's split pea soup and famous meatballs (along with way more food than I could even get to!). There was the wrong present that Williams-Sonoma had shipped from Lis to David. There was the present that Mom dropped nearly on Dad's foot ("It JUMPED!") and thankfully didn't break. There was wine and coffee and people enjoying the cookies I spent so much time making.
There was family and love and light.
It was a good Christmas.
I don't have my camera cord here at Mom and Dad's with me, so no Christmas pictures yet, but rest assured we had a lovely day. There were lots and lots of tears: good ones, as when Mom gave Dad the small milk bottle from his grandparents' old dairy - something he has been searching for for years, and has never been able to find; or when Mom opened the beautiful sweater and necklace Lis helped Dad find for her, after they had decided they weren't going to buy any presents for each other this year because they had bought a house. There were also some sad tears, when we all went to visit Grandpa in the nursing home (first time since I can remember that he hasn't been able to come to our house for Christmas morning), and when we all went to see Grandma. I'm not quite sure there's anything harder than seeing your Dad cry, unless it's seeing your Dad and your uncle cry.
Then there were the tears of laughter, of enjoying being with each other so much, of Uncle Andy's bad jokes that had Carl wheezing for air and wiping his streaming eyes.
There was the phone call from the Australian uncle, who is planning a trip home in the spring, talking to him for the first time in twelve years. There was Gracie spending the entire day attached to her new stuffed kitty. There was Joy finally warming up (again) to Uncle David and playing tea party with him. There was our "third sister" teasing Carl unmercifully about the card game they were losing against Lis and Andy.
There was Mom's split pea soup and famous meatballs (along with way more food than I could even get to!). There was the wrong present that Williams-Sonoma had shipped from Lis to David. There was the present that Mom dropped nearly on Dad's foot ("It JUMPED!") and thankfully didn't break. There was wine and coffee and people enjoying the cookies I spent so much time making.
There was family and love and light.
It was a good Christmas.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Ho, Ho, Ho
I hope all my readers who celebrate Christmas have a wonderful, joy-filled weekend. And to those who don't celebrate this particular holiday, I hope this winter weekend (and whatever days you do celebrate) is wondrous as well. We are home with my family, all together and ready for fun.
Good food, good wine, family and laugher ... the presents are just an extra bonus!
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, my friends.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Grace
This week's Madhouse entry is remarkably appropriate for me, given the title of my blog! And as I don't think I've ever given the backstory to my title, well, here you go.
I am not, by nature, a graceful person. I think one reason I love figure skating so much is that I long for that kind of effortless grace in movement, that simple elegance.
(I want to be Alissa Czisny when I grow up.)
Alas, the most my years of skating lessons did was teach me how to walk with a straight back - which is something, I suppose, given the number of people I see slumping around the place. I will never be Audrey Hepburn, or Grace Kelly, or Katia Gordeeva.
"Graceful" is not the first word that comes to people's minds when describing me.
I may not be able to achieve gracefulness in this lifetime (my husband will tell you that he never believed it possible for a person to be as naturally clumsy as I am), but graciousness ... well, that's another matter.
You see, by nature, I am not a gracious person, either. But that is something I can strive for in this life. Unspeakable grace has been poured out on me, the least I can do is show it in my own life.
I chose "Child of Grace" for my blog title, however many years ago, because I do want grace - not the physical kind - to be the first thing that comes to people's mind when they think of me. I want to live a life marked by grace. I am very much my parents' child - in appearance, I take after my mother; in personality, my father. "Oh yeah," people back home tell me all the time, "You're your father's daughter," or "You're so much like your mother!"
I want my writing, and my life, to be so characterized by grace that people have no question whose child I am - that they know without a doubt I belong to the King of Grace.
I'm not there yet. But it's a goal.
And, I think, a worthy one.
I am not, by nature, a graceful person. I think one reason I love figure skating so much is that I long for that kind of effortless grace in movement, that simple elegance.
(I want to be Alissa Czisny when I grow up.)
Alas, the most my years of skating lessons did was teach me how to walk with a straight back - which is something, I suppose, given the number of people I see slumping around the place. I will never be Audrey Hepburn, or Grace Kelly, or Katia Gordeeva.
"Graceful" is not the first word that comes to people's minds when describing me.
I may not be able to achieve gracefulness in this lifetime (my husband will tell you that he never believed it possible for a person to be as naturally clumsy as I am), but graciousness ... well, that's another matter.
You see, by nature, I am not a gracious person, either. But that is something I can strive for in this life. Unspeakable grace has been poured out on me, the least I can do is show it in my own life.
I chose "Child of Grace" for my blog title, however many years ago, because I do want grace - not the physical kind - to be the first thing that comes to people's mind when they think of me. I want to live a life marked by grace. I am very much my parents' child - in appearance, I take after my mother; in personality, my father. "Oh yeah," people back home tell me all the time, "You're your father's daughter," or "You're so much like your mother!"
I want my writing, and my life, to be so characterized by grace that people have no question whose child I am - that they know without a doubt I belong to the King of Grace.
I'm not there yet. But it's a goal.
And, I think, a worthy one.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Monday Musings
It's Monday morning, and my mind is a big, blank canvas. That might sound like the perfect recipe for creativity, but no, it's really blank. I couldn't even come up with a semi-interesting status update for Facebook!
Carl and I saw Voyage of the Dawn Treader on Saturday. I enjoyed it - especially Eustace, and I hope they do make Silver Chair, because he deserves his own movie and I think everyone who has seen Dawn Treader loved him and would go see him in another movie - but it was not up to the level of The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe. Better than Prince Caspian, but not as good as the first. And most of the changes that they made to the book, to make it a more cohesive movie, just came out looking (to me) silly.
I did like Caspian's quiet heroism, and I thought Simon Pegg did a better job as Reepicheep (I totally choked up when he said he would give up his sword for the chance to go to Aslan's Country, because ... just wow), and the ship itself looked perfect. The movie overall felt very rushed to me, though, and I'm afraid that this is going to be it for the Narnia films this time around, because the quality keeps getting poorer and poorer, and the numbers keep dropping accordingly. WHEN will Hollywood learn that you don't have to make all sorts of changes to supposedly "improve" a story, when the original story is beautiful in itself? How do you suppose the Chronicles have remained beloved for so long, without an editor to update them and make them more modern?
Because the heart of the stories is timeless - honor, courage, sacrifice, love. Those themes never grow old.
Maybe in another ten-twenty years, someone else will tackle the Chronicles, deal faithfully with them, and manage to make all seven.
&&&&&
Carl and I saw Voyage of the Dawn Treader on Saturday. I enjoyed it - especially Eustace, and I hope they do make Silver Chair, because he deserves his own movie and I think everyone who has seen Dawn Treader loved him and would go see him in another movie - but it was not up to the level of The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe. Better than Prince Caspian, but not as good as the first. And most of the changes that they made to the book, to make it a more cohesive movie, just came out looking (to me) silly.
I did like Caspian's quiet heroism, and I thought Simon Pegg did a better job as Reepicheep (I totally choked up when he said he would give up his sword for the chance to go to Aslan's Country, because ... just wow), and the ship itself looked perfect. The movie overall felt very rushed to me, though, and I'm afraid that this is going to be it for the Narnia films this time around, because the quality keeps getting poorer and poorer, and the numbers keep dropping accordingly. WHEN will Hollywood learn that you don't have to make all sorts of changes to supposedly "improve" a story, when the original story is beautiful in itself? How do you suppose the Chronicles have remained beloved for so long, without an editor to update them and make them more modern?
Because the heart of the stories is timeless - honor, courage, sacrifice, love. Those themes never grow old.
Maybe in another ten-twenty years, someone else will tackle the Chronicles, deal faithfully with them, and manage to make all seven.
&&&&
Also on Saturday, I gave away my childhood copy of Betsy-Tacy and Tib. I have a lovely hardcover copy now, and it seems selfish to hold onto the paperback version as well. So I gave it away to our pastor's eight-year-old daughter, and told her that I loved, and still love, the Betsy-Tacy books. She has never read them, so I'm so excited to think that maybe I'm introducing someone else to a lifelong friendship with the Deep Valley gang. She's a voracious reader and a sweetheart, so I have no fear that she will unthinkingly dismiss Betsy just because she's old-fashioned. Again, they may be old-fashioned, but the themes of friendship and family are timeless!
&&&
Christmas is in five days. We leave for my parents' on Thursday. I kinda wish it were Thursday already. I am ready to be celebrating with the family! I have plenty of baking planned to fill the intervening days, though - molasses cookies, peanut-butter blossoms, toffee chip cookies, cardamom bread. I'm cleaning my oven this morning in preparation for all the baking!
&&
Running out of thoughts. Oh! Can you believe that I have no holiday clothes? I do have a pair of black velvet pants, but I own nothing in red or green, nothing to go with the pants to make it festive. Not even a red sweater. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with me, especially when I love red. Like Sara Stanley, I always feel cleverer in red than any other color.
I feel sophisticated in white or black, sexy in purple, chic in green, comfortable in blue or brown, and juvenile in yellow. Which probably explains why I have so much blue and brown in my wardrobe.
&
We're doing better with Joy these days. She still has her days of pushing the boundaries, testing her independence, striving to assert her will over ours, but it's settled into a more manageable rhythm now. I think three is going to be her "testing" year, as opposed to two for so many kids! All I've heard from other parents who found three a more difficult year than two, though, is that as long as you are consistent, it gets better by four. I'm clinging to that on those more-than-usually-difficult days!
Happy Monday, my friends!
Friday, December 17, 2010
Pumpkin Scones and Togetherness
There's not a whole lot of my creative hobbies I can do with the girls right now. If I try to sew with them around, I worry about pins and scissors and Gracie running off with my pattern pieces. Knitting, well, let's just say they are both like cats when it comes to yarn. Scrapbooking - forget it! Glue, stickers, photos, little pieces of colored paper ... they just can't help but make a mess.
But baking? That we can do together. And so, yesterday, when I felt at my wits end with Joy (O the defiance of a three-year-old whose world is stretching!) and when Gracie would not stop fussing, I pulled out the flour and sugar and aprons, and we set to work.
But baking? That we can do together. And so, yesterday, when I felt at my wits end with Joy (O the defiance of a three-year-old whose world is stretching!) and when Gracie would not stop fussing, I pulled out the flour and sugar and aprons, and we set to work.
Gracie, who is my mischief-maker and always into everything, was happy in the high chair with some (tightly closed) spice bottles and my extra set of measuring cups and spoons. Joy got right up to the counter and helped me stir and mix everything together. We ended with a delicious double batch of pumpkin scones, and everyone feeling better. As an extra bonus, I was actually able to eat breakfast food this morning, instead of resorting to hummus and pita chips, as I had to do yesterday when I suddenly realized there was no food for me to eat for breakfast!
I think we'll bake cookies today. Tomorrow I'll make sure to stock up on baking supplies (I'm out of nutmeg and running dangerously low on eggs), and then we can bake every day from Monday to Wednesday, if we want!
I hope Oma and Grandpa, and Uncle David and Aunt Lizzie, are in the mood for baked goods, because I suspect we will arrive on Thursday loaded down with them!
Pumpkin Scones:
1 1/2 C all-purpose flour
1/2 C whole wheat flour
1/4 C packed brown sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 tsp allspice
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 C cold butter
1 egg
3/4 C pumpkin puree (NOT pumpkin pie filling!)
1/3 C milk
Mix dry ingredient together in a large bowl. Cut in butter. In a separate bowl, mix egg, pumpkin puree, and milk. Add wet ingredients to the flour mixture. Stir just until moistened. Knead ten times. Pat into circle and cut into wedge-shaped scones, place on floured baking sheet. OR scoop out scones with ice-cream scoop and drop onto floured baking sheet. Bake at 400F for 15 minutes or until golden brown. Best served warm with butter!
(You can also add chocolate chips to the scones, but Carl's not a big chocolate fan, so we tend to leave chocolate out of any recipes we want him to enjoy. Plus, without the chocolate chips you can enjoy it for breakfast without guilt!)
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Pondering
I almost decided to give up this blog yesterday. I have started a blog specifically devoted to writing (see sidebar), and I had serious thoughts of just focusing on that from now on.
Part of that was discouragement that my more in-depth, spiritually-minded posts rarely (if ever) get comments, while the frivolous ones (like when I talk about my new hairstyle) get plenty. I don't really want to be a fluff blogger, you see.
Part of it was fear that, as my life has been fairly discouraging of late, I would slide back into writing mainly posts about how discouraged I am, and that's not really what I want my niche to be, either. ("Hey, come visit Child of Grace - she whines all the time!")
Part of it was wondering if this blog really does any good to anyone anyway - do people come away from reading my posts encouraged, edified, challenged? Or is it just something to peruse whilst sipping one's morning coffee, only to be forgotten as soon as one's day really begins?
Part of it is wondering if blogging takes me too much away from my children - if their attitude problems of late are because I'm not spending enough time interacting with them. Even as I type this, I am at the dining room table amidst the remnants of our breakfast, while they are upstairs in the playroom. I can hear them, and have no problem stopping this to go to them if they need me - but I'm not up there playing with them.
As you can see, the blog is still here, and I'm still writing posts. But they might be more sporadic for a while, as I try to figure out whether this blog is an unnecessary self-indulgence, or if it really does serve a good purpose. I think it's going to require a lot of prayer, and a bit of perspective, both of which simply take time.
So I thank you in advance for your patience, and for bearing with me. And hey, if you're really desperate to see more posts by me, I do have a few up on the writing blog!
Part of that was discouragement that my more in-depth, spiritually-minded posts rarely (if ever) get comments, while the frivolous ones (like when I talk about my new hairstyle) get plenty. I don't really want to be a fluff blogger, you see.
Part of it was fear that, as my life has been fairly discouraging of late, I would slide back into writing mainly posts about how discouraged I am, and that's not really what I want my niche to be, either. ("Hey, come visit Child of Grace - she whines all the time!")
Part of it was wondering if this blog really does any good to anyone anyway - do people come away from reading my posts encouraged, edified, challenged? Or is it just something to peruse whilst sipping one's morning coffee, only to be forgotten as soon as one's day really begins?
Part of it is wondering if blogging takes me too much away from my children - if their attitude problems of late are because I'm not spending enough time interacting with them. Even as I type this, I am at the dining room table amidst the remnants of our breakfast, while they are upstairs in the playroom. I can hear them, and have no problem stopping this to go to them if they need me - but I'm not up there playing with them.
As you can see, the blog is still here, and I'm still writing posts. But they might be more sporadic for a while, as I try to figure out whether this blog is an unnecessary self-indulgence, or if it really does serve a good purpose. I think it's going to require a lot of prayer, and a bit of perspective, both of which simply take time.
So I thank you in advance for your patience, and for bearing with me. And hey, if you're really desperate to see more posts by me, I do have a few up on the writing blog!
Monday, December 13, 2010
A Plea for Kindness
I am tired.
Not just physically, although the restless night I had last night, combined with someone waking up at 5:00 am and deciding today would be a good day for some more battles of the will, are certainly making me more than happy to see my coffee cup today.
But mostly, I am tired of smug superiority. I am tired of mockery. I am tired of cruelty disguised as humor.
I am really tired of seeing all this practiced by those who call themselves Christians, aimed at other Christians.
"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13: 34-35)
"Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling. But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes." (1 John 2: 9-11)
"And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross." (Colossians 1: 17-20)
My friends, if we share in the cross of Christ, if we are reconciled to God through his blood, why can't we be reconciled to each other? I understand that we will have our differences. I know that there are those who abuse the name of Christ for their own twisted ends, and I stand with you in condemning them. But really, must we paint everyone with whom we disagree with the same brush? Why are we so quick to point the finger of mockery and indictment at those whose doctrine differs?
Liberals use vicious humor to discredit the fundamentalists. Fundamentalists denounce liberals as heretics.
And the world scorns us all because of our strife.
Again, I am not saying that we all have to agree. But please, can't we be respectful in our disagreements? Maybe we should all take a step or two back and ask ourselves what our motive is behind this attitude: are we speaking thus because we truly believe this is the best way to handle such disagreement, or are we taking cheap shots at our opponents because it's easy and makes us feel superior? Are we practicing humility and love, or indulging in arrogance and pride?
As with so many areas, it comes down to this:
Where are our hearts?
Many of you know that Dr. Roger Nicole died this weekend. He was a man who, though he knew more than even most scholars, practiced humility and graciousness, even against those he debated. May we all strive to emulate men such as that in our dealings with each other.
Maybe then the world can see the church as it is meant to be, and start seeing Christ in us, instead of our own sinful hearts.
Not just physically, although the restless night I had last night, combined with someone waking up at 5:00 am and deciding today would be a good day for some more battles of the will, are certainly making me more than happy to see my coffee cup today.
But mostly, I am tired of smug superiority. I am tired of mockery. I am tired of cruelty disguised as humor.
I am really tired of seeing all this practiced by those who call themselves Christians, aimed at other Christians.
"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13: 34-35)
"Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling. But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes." (1 John 2: 9-11)
"And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross." (Colossians 1: 17-20)
My friends, if we share in the cross of Christ, if we are reconciled to God through his blood, why can't we be reconciled to each other? I understand that we will have our differences. I know that there are those who abuse the name of Christ for their own twisted ends, and I stand with you in condemning them. But really, must we paint everyone with whom we disagree with the same brush? Why are we so quick to point the finger of mockery and indictment at those whose doctrine differs?
Liberals use vicious humor to discredit the fundamentalists. Fundamentalists denounce liberals as heretics.
And the world scorns us all because of our strife.
Again, I am not saying that we all have to agree. But please, can't we be respectful in our disagreements? Maybe we should all take a step or two back and ask ourselves what our motive is behind this attitude: are we speaking thus because we truly believe this is the best way to handle such disagreement, or are we taking cheap shots at our opponents because it's easy and makes us feel superior? Are we practicing humility and love, or indulging in arrogance and pride?
As with so many areas, it comes down to this:
Where are our hearts?
Many of you know that Dr. Roger Nicole died this weekend. He was a man who, though he knew more than even most scholars, practiced humility and graciousness, even against those he debated. May we all strive to emulate men such as that in our dealings with each other.
Maybe then the world can see the church as it is meant to be, and start seeing Christ in us, instead of our own sinful hearts.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Funny How These Things Happen
So, I've been craving caramel sauce lately. I have a partially-eaten container of vanilla frozen yogurt in the freezer just needing something to make it special, plus I always love adding a dollop of caramel sauce to hot chocolate.
So today I decided to take advantage of Carl playing with the girls to try a batch. The last batch I made got burnt just a little, but even a little burnt can make caramel fairly inedible in my opinion, so I was super-careful this time.
The first batch never caramelized, just crystallized. Still not sure what went wrong there.
I was so afraid of the same thing happening to the second batch that I added the butter too soon, before the sugar had truly caramelized, and so I ended up with butter-sugar sauce.
Frustrated, I was debating whether to try a third batch or just call it a day and go back to my research on the Classic Maya. Then I decided to taste a little bit of the butter-sugar sauce, and thought: Hm, that's not bad. Not something I'd put in my hot cocoa, or over my frozen yogurt, but I bet I could use it for something. It almost tastes like it would be good for ...
Caramel popcorn. That's another treat I've been craving lately, and it seems nearly impossible to find recipes for it that don't involve corn syrup, which I don't keep on hand and prefer not to use at all if possible.
Well, the sauce wasn't doing anybody any good just sitting there, and if I was wrong, I'd only be out an extra 1/2 cup of popcorn. Why not try it? I popped up a batch of popcorn on the stove, saved out a few pieces for the girls (who inherited my love for the snack), and poured half the butter-sugar sauce, which had thickened up nicely while sitting on the counter, over the rest. I mixed it up, spread it on a baking sheet, and popped it in the oven.
After about fifteen minutes, I tried a piece.
O yum.
Just about the best caramel popcorn I've ever had. The lighter flavor of the butter-sugar (which I'm now calling light caramel) sauce worked perfectly with the popcorn instead of overwhelming my mouth with CARAMEL! I might have baked it a wee bit too long, but nothing got burned, it's just a little crispier than I like it usually.
But still, it's incredibly addictive, and it's taking all my will-power to not eat it all NOW instead of waiting until we've had our healthy supper of beans and rice and the girls are in bed.
Nice to see that sometimes even a mistake in cooking can turn out so delicious!
&&&&&
Caramel Popcorn:
Pop 1 C popcorn in air popper or on the stove. Discard any un-popped pieces. Set aside in a large bowl.
Light Caramel Sauce:
1 C sugar
1/4 C water
6 TBS butter
1/2 C heavy cream
Whisk water and sugar together. As soon as it is combined, STOP stirring. Let come to a boil, swirling pot occasionally. After 5-7 minutes, once sugar is golden but NOT yet caramel in color, add butter and stir.
Remove from heat. Add cream and stir. Your sauce should be a rich golden color - NOT caramel.
Let cool slightly, then pour over popcorn and mix well.
Spread popcorn on foil-lined and greased baking sheet. Bake at 300F for 10-15 minutes. Serve and enjoy!
Store popcorn in an airtight plastic container.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Christmas Time is Coming
I am so, so thankful for my beautiful, wonderful, amazing family.
For little Gracie with her mischievous eyes and sweet smile.
For my firstborn Joy, so bright and tender-hearted.
For Carl, my husband and best friend.
Thank you, Lord, for these marvelous blessings, and a special time of year which always causes me to pause and think about them. To me, this is the true meaning of Christmas, and always has been.
Family.
And love.
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
Holiday Bonus
Exactly two weeks ago, my Joy vanished. One moment she was there, riding in the car on the way to Grandma's house, singing and giggling, and the next ...
Poof. No more Joy.
In her place was a silent, contrary, miserable child. The only characteristic this child shared with my Joy was stubbornness. Except hers was ten times more pronounced.
Today, Joy is back. Maybe even a little sweeter than before, or at least that's the way it seems after these last two weeks.
Poor kid. She got hit with everything all at once. Carsick. Dehydrated. Fever. Fear of my MIL's dog. Being in a strange place. Going to an even stranger place, with two more (friendly, but big) dogs on Thanksgiving. Constipated. And then, by the time all that was out of the way, natural depravity decided to rear its ugly head and she was turning everything into a power struggle.
Oh, she's not perfect now, by any stretch. But last night, for the first time in a long time, bedtime wasn't a battle. She still woke up in the middle of the night crying for me, but after only half an hour of cuddling, she was ready to go back to her bed without a fight.
She ate her breakfast without complaining this morning. She didn't want to take a bath, but when I told her she had to, she accepted cheerfully and even had a good time splashing with Sissy. She rested on the couch when it was naptime (okay, she did sneak upstairs to keep Gracie awake while I was in the shower, but seeing as how I've never told her not to do that, she wasn't technically disobeying). She even went potty by herself, and tossed her underwear into the sink because it was a little wet.
She read stories to her animals while she was on the couch, and I even heard her tell them to be quiet and calm while she read the Bible, just like Papa reminds the girls every evening after supper. "Chapter 19, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter orange, chapter lion, chapter Gracie. The Lord said ..." Well, it's not exactly the book of Isaiah, but it still made me melt.
And now she's having apples and cheese for a snack while I type this, and we're making faces and giggling at each other.
Her getting sick and then miserable over Thanksgiving is not how I would have chosen to start my holiday season, but seeing my little girl happy and sweet again, and appreciating it ten times more than before?
Definitely a holiday bonus for this mamma.
(Oh, and Gracie is being sweet and cuddly too, in case you were wondering about her. She's still a little cranky from all the missed sleep while Joy was fighting bed, but overall she's being a darling, too. A bonus to the bonus.)
My anticipation of Christmas has just increased ten times or more. Happy Holidays to us!
(This post is part of the Madhouse Carnival. Check out the other participants!)
Allison – http://allimonster.wordpress.com/
Barb – http://spencerhillspinanddye.blogspot.com/
Batty – http://spookyknitting.blogspot.com
Dave – http://kerfdust.blogspot.com/
Eileen - http://artdecodivaknits.blogspot.com/
Evil Twin’s Wife – http://www.eviltwinswife.blogspot.com/
G – http://not-a-box.blogspot.com/
Heather – http://cusegirlknits.wordpress.com/
Jennifer – http://www.askpoopsplease.blogspot.com/
JMLC – http://jmlc.wordpress.com/
Kate – http://katesaid.wordpress.com/
LC – http://LCinSunnySoCal.wordpress.com
Louise – http://www.graciouschild.blogspot.com/
Marcy – http://mittentime.blogspot.com/
Melanie – http://melinor.tumblr.com/
Nikki – http://landofthefreehomeofthedepressed.blogspot.com/
Sara – http://www.yoyumama.blogspot.com
Poof. No more Joy.
In her place was a silent, contrary, miserable child. The only characteristic this child shared with my Joy was stubbornness. Except hers was ten times more pronounced.
Today, Joy is back. Maybe even a little sweeter than before, or at least that's the way it seems after these last two weeks.
Poor kid. She got hit with everything all at once. Carsick. Dehydrated. Fever. Fear of my MIL's dog. Being in a strange place. Going to an even stranger place, with two more (friendly, but big) dogs on Thanksgiving. Constipated. And then, by the time all that was out of the way, natural depravity decided to rear its ugly head and she was turning everything into a power struggle.
Oh, she's not perfect now, by any stretch. But last night, for the first time in a long time, bedtime wasn't a battle. She still woke up in the middle of the night crying for me, but after only half an hour of cuddling, she was ready to go back to her bed without a fight.
She ate her breakfast without complaining this morning. She didn't want to take a bath, but when I told her she had to, she accepted cheerfully and even had a good time splashing with Sissy. She rested on the couch when it was naptime (okay, she did sneak upstairs to keep Gracie awake while I was in the shower, but seeing as how I've never told her not to do that, she wasn't technically disobeying). She even went potty by herself, and tossed her underwear into the sink because it was a little wet.
She read stories to her animals while she was on the couch, and I even heard her tell them to be quiet and calm while she read the Bible, just like Papa reminds the girls every evening after supper. "Chapter 19, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter orange, chapter lion, chapter Gracie. The Lord said ..." Well, it's not exactly the book of Isaiah, but it still made me melt.
And now she's having apples and cheese for a snack while I type this, and we're making faces and giggling at each other.
Her getting sick and then miserable over Thanksgiving is not how I would have chosen to start my holiday season, but seeing my little girl happy and sweet again, and appreciating it ten times more than before?
Definitely a holiday bonus for this mamma.
(Oh, and Gracie is being sweet and cuddly too, in case you were wondering about her. She's still a little cranky from all the missed sleep while Joy was fighting bed, but overall she's being a darling, too. A bonus to the bonus.)
My anticipation of Christmas has just increased ten times or more. Happy Holidays to us!
(This post is part of the Madhouse Carnival. Check out the other participants!)
Allison – http://allimonster.wordpress.com/
Barb – http://spencerhillspinanddye.blogspot.com/
Batty – http://spookyknitting.blogspot.com
Dave – http://kerfdust.blogspot.com/
Eileen - http://artdecodivaknits.blogspot.com/
Evil Twin’s Wife – http://www.eviltwinswife.blogspot.com/
G – http://not-a-box.blogspot.com/
Heather – http://cusegirlknits.wordpress.com/
Jennifer – http://www.askpoopsplease.blogspot.com/
JMLC – http://jmlc.wordpress.com/
Kate – http://katesaid.wordpress.com/
LC – http://LCinSunnySoCal.wordpress.com
Louise – http://www.graciouschild.blogspot.com/
Marcy – http://mittentime.blogspot.com/
Melanie – http://melinor.tumblr.com/
Nikki – http://landofthefreehomeofthedepressed.blogspot.com/
Sara – http://www.yoyumama.blogspot.com
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Whatever Things
"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." Philippians 4:8
Joy is not scared of going to bed. It is a power struggle.
Last night was less than fun.
But by God's grace, we're handling it, and getting through, and instead of thinking about the < 4 hours of sleep I got last night, and dreading tonight (because I highly doubt that one night alone is going to be sufficient in this matter), I am trying to look at good things that have come this week.
So, on to thoughts that are true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and praiseworthy.
The threads of research and plot are starting to come together for my next story, and I'm getting excited. The characters are taking shape, and I even wrote a quick scene the other day. It came to me in the shower (where most of my best ideas come) and I wanted to jot it down before I forgot. Even if I don't use it in the story, it is helping to mold the outline. These are the times when I am reminded of how very much I love writing.
Our church is having a music crisis right now, and while that in itself isn't good, it has inspired me to pick up my guitar and start working at that again. Not that I hope to ever be good enough to lead others in worship, but it would be nice to be able to play and sing for myself and the girls. Maybe we can work with Joy and Gracie on their new toy piano for church. How many keys do you need for hymns anyway?
My prayer life has been kick-started by the troubles of these last few days. As our pastor said in his sermon on Sunday, prayer needs to be a constant state of mind, not just something you do once or twice a day. God is ever-present, and he always hears, and even when it seems he is answering with silence, he does not forsake or ignore his children. Amen.
Joy is not scared of going to bed. It is a power struggle.
Last night was less than fun.
But by God's grace, we're handling it, and getting through, and instead of thinking about the < 4 hours of sleep I got last night, and dreading tonight (because I highly doubt that one night alone is going to be sufficient in this matter), I am trying to look at good things that have come this week.
So, on to thoughts that are true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and praiseworthy.
&&&&&
Due to Joy's issues with not-sleeping, I've been spending a considerable amount of time cuddling with Gracie at bedtime (until last night, when we finally set up the pack and play in the playroom so she could sleep without being disturbed by sister's tantrums) while Carl deals with Joy. Gracie is such a little bundle of sweetness. She reaches up and pats my face, whispers gabbled nonsense in the dark, and rests her head against my chest with a resigned sigh about not being able to sleep in her bed.
We decorated the house for Christmas over the weekend, and the delight the girls take in the tree, garland, and lights sparks such greater delight in us, too. Christmas is so much more fun with littles!
Gracie and Joy have taken to holding hands and running through the house lately. It is the sweetest thing in the world to watch. Whatever their attitudes toward us, they are becoming better and better friends with each other. Precious!
Gracie got her first taste of being bundled up in a snowsuit yesterday. Poor kid tumbled onto her nose and couldn't push herself back up. I laughed so heartlessly as I helped her back up. It's part of being a kid, lovey!
Carl and I have lined up a babysitter to watch the girls so we can go see The Voyage of the Dawn Treader after it comes out. We thought about going on opening weekend, but I have bad luck in movie theaters, always ending up in front of some jerk pre-teen who kicks, or beside people who talk loudly about the movie while it's playing, or near someone with really strong, really bad perfume, so ... we're going the week after it opens in hopes that not as many people will be out. We haven't been to the movies since Prince Caspian came out!
Joy is wearing her pajamas that say "Dancing Makes Me Happy," and her sparkly silver shoes. She looks like a little dancer (or skater, cough cough). I want to sign her up for gymnastics or dance or something this spring, both for the skills and the fact that she doesn't get around other little kids much and I think that would be a good way for her to get used to other small people.
Joy and I got half our Christmas cards addressed and ready to go yesterday. Every year I swear I'm not going to send out as many, and yet each year, for as many people as I take off the list, I add more on. Then I think how thrilled I get with every Christmas card we receive, and decide it's not so bad, giving that thrill to others.
I think God created the coffee bean specifically with mothers of young children in mind. Seriously: it gives energy, smells wonderful, and tastes delicious (once you have developed a taste for it, that is). It's like our own little reminder that God loves us, every morning. Tea and hot chocolate do that, too, if you're not a coffee drinker; coffee just gives a bigger "oomph."
The threads of research and plot are starting to come together for my next story, and I'm getting excited. The characters are taking shape, and I even wrote a quick scene the other day. It came to me in the shower (where most of my best ideas come) and I wanted to jot it down before I forgot. Even if I don't use it in the story, it is helping to mold the outline. These are the times when I am reminded of how very much I love writing.
Our church is having a music crisis right now, and while that in itself isn't good, it has inspired me to pick up my guitar and start working at that again. Not that I hope to ever be good enough to lead others in worship, but it would be nice to be able to play and sing for myself and the girls. Maybe we can work with Joy and Gracie on their new toy piano for church. How many keys do you need for hymns anyway?
My prayer life has been kick-started by the troubles of these last few days. As our pastor said in his sermon on Sunday, prayer needs to be a constant state of mind, not just something you do once or twice a day. God is ever-present, and he always hears, and even when it seems he is answering with silence, he does not forsake or ignore his children. Amen.
&&&&&
What are some lovely thoughts you would like to share this morning? Hearing them from others always encourages me, as well.
ETA: Oh! I just remembered one more lovely thought! I was eavesdropping on a Twitter conversation between Todd Eldredge and Padraic Moyles (what? If they wanted it private they wouldn't have been having it on Twitter) and discovered that there is a very strong possibility that there might be a Riverdance on Ice tour this spring. How terrific would that be?
OK. Back to your lovely thoughts.
ETA: Oh! I just remembered one more lovely thought! I was eavesdropping on a Twitter conversation between Todd Eldredge and Padraic Moyles (what? If they wanted it private they wouldn't have been having it on Twitter) and discovered that there is a very strong possibility that there might be a Riverdance on Ice tour this spring. How terrific would that be?
OK. Back to your lovely thoughts.
Monday, December 06, 2010
Actually Asking for Advice
Joy's digestion system is back to normal, maybe even working a little smoother than before (thanks, probably, to the prune juice Mamma keeps sneaking in to her other juice). Her attitude during the day has continued to improve, as well. We got our Christmas tree Friday evening, and spent Saturday decorating the house, and she (both the girls) really loved that.
So I am praising God for those things!
We are, however (there's always a "however," isn't there?), still having major difficulties with bedtime. She starts out getting tense and contrary as soon as we get ready to sing our bedtime song. She complains about the stories until partway through, at which point she is usually able to relax enough to enjoy them. She won't give Gracie (or anyone, for that matter) goodnight kisses. And, the biggest issue, she won't sleep unless Carl and I are right by her bed. For a while she was okay with it just being Carl, but now she insists on both of us being there, or she throws a huge fit.
It takes between half an hour to an hour for her to fall asleep, at which point we tip-toe out of the room, kissing poor good-natured Grace on our way out. Everything is fine until sometime in the middle of the night (it can range from 11:30 to 5:00), when Joy wakes up crying, which quickly turns to screaming, until Carl gets her and brings her into our bed, where she cuddles up with me and spends the rest of the night.
We've tried taking her back to her bed once she's calmed down. No good; she starts crying as soon as she's in bed.
Last night she woke up around 2:30, and insisted on touching me the rest of the night. She would be sound asleep, and if I so much as shifted position, she would wake up and start searching for me. (Needless to say, I am a little sore this morning, as well as tired.)
I know that trouble sleeping is not uncommon at this age, especially after a difficult time like Thanksgiving vacation. Carl and I are trying to be patient with her, but we're getting a little concerned about establishing a bad habit, sleep-wise. And we're tired. And she's tired. And even Gracie is tired, as she can't help but be disturbed by Sissy's sleep issues.
Any tips, parents? We're going to get a night-light this afternoon when Carl's done work. We've been praying with her before sleep, and I'm going to try to take the opportunity this afternoon to talk to her about Philippians 4:8, and how God can help us have good thoughts, and not be scared. If she's not showing any signs of improvement by the end of this week, we're considering moving Gracie back into the playroom temporarily and resorting to the Ferber method with Joy, but I'm really, really reluctant to take that step, as A) Joy is stubborn and strong-willed, and might simply be made more contrary by trying to let her cry it out, and B) if she's really getting scared, I don't want to disregard that and set her up for nightmares and security issues for the rest of her childhood.
But still. We also don't want to have to coddle her to sleep for the next seven years.
So any suggestions you might have would be more than appreciated. Prayers, also.
And if you have any extra coffee, I'll give you my address.
So I am praising God for those things!
We are, however (there's always a "however," isn't there?), still having major difficulties with bedtime. She starts out getting tense and contrary as soon as we get ready to sing our bedtime song. She complains about the stories until partway through, at which point she is usually able to relax enough to enjoy them. She won't give Gracie (or anyone, for that matter) goodnight kisses. And, the biggest issue, she won't sleep unless Carl and I are right by her bed. For a while she was okay with it just being Carl, but now she insists on both of us being there, or she throws a huge fit.
It takes between half an hour to an hour for her to fall asleep, at which point we tip-toe out of the room, kissing poor good-natured Grace on our way out. Everything is fine until sometime in the middle of the night (it can range from 11:30 to 5:00), when Joy wakes up crying, which quickly turns to screaming, until Carl gets her and brings her into our bed, where she cuddles up with me and spends the rest of the night.
We've tried taking her back to her bed once she's calmed down. No good; she starts crying as soon as she's in bed.
Last night she woke up around 2:30, and insisted on touching me the rest of the night. She would be sound asleep, and if I so much as shifted position, she would wake up and start searching for me. (Needless to say, I am a little sore this morning, as well as tired.)
I know that trouble sleeping is not uncommon at this age, especially after a difficult time like Thanksgiving vacation. Carl and I are trying to be patient with her, but we're getting a little concerned about establishing a bad habit, sleep-wise. And we're tired. And she's tired. And even Gracie is tired, as she can't help but be disturbed by Sissy's sleep issues.
Any tips, parents? We're going to get a night-light this afternoon when Carl's done work. We've been praying with her before sleep, and I'm going to try to take the opportunity this afternoon to talk to her about Philippians 4:8, and how God can help us have good thoughts, and not be scared. If she's not showing any signs of improvement by the end of this week, we're considering moving Gracie back into the playroom temporarily and resorting to the Ferber method with Joy, but I'm really, really reluctant to take that step, as A) Joy is stubborn and strong-willed, and might simply be made more contrary by trying to let her cry it out, and B) if she's really getting scared, I don't want to disregard that and set her up for nightmares and security issues for the rest of her childhood.
But still. We also don't want to have to coddle her to sleep for the next seven years.
So any suggestions you might have would be more than appreciated. Prayers, also.
And if you have any extra coffee, I'll give you my address.
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Psalm 8
Psalm 8: The Glory of the Creator and of Humankind
Hymn of praise, more specifically of creation praise. This psalm praises the Lord because of creation, not creation itself.
Psalm 8 concluded the first part of Book 1, returning to the theme of the ideal human being. “The reader leaves the world of enemies, wicked people, and distorted justice (Pss. 3-7) for an image of the world as God originally created it.”
Ascription of Praise (8:1a)
(Should be read as “O Yahweh, our Lord” - not a repeat of “Lord,” but acknowledging Yahweh, the covenant God, as sovereign ruler over Israel.)
Yahweh has revealed some of his character and his glory in creation; he is personally involved in his earth, and his majesty is seen everywhere. “He, the glorious One, has endowed the earth with glory.”
The Glory of the Great King (8:1b-2)
Creation does not merely reveal God’s glory (though it certainly does that), but is glorious in itself, because he has made it. God himself declared it good, and so it is.
The wonder and joy children take in the earth is an example to all of us - they can see its glory, and their delight in God’s creation silences those who seek to denigrate it, and to slander God by scorning his work. No matter how the wicked attempt to turn it, they can never obscure the beauty of God’s handiwork in his creation.
God’s Interest in Humankind (8:3-4)
God has sculpted the heavens to please him - each star has been placed exactly in place by his fingers. As vast as space is, God is far vaster. It is not the sense of the hugeness of the heavens that overwhelms the psalmist with his own insignificance, but the sense of the hugeness of the Great Artist who created this masterpiece.
Even in the questioning of why God cares for humankind, the psalmist acknowledges that he does. The same God who shaped the heavens to please him shapes us and pours his glory into us. Oh, the sheer breathtaking wonder of it!
Not only does he invest us with his glory, he loves us and cares for us. We may feel (and be) very small, but he is personally interested in us, and overlooks nothing for our care.
Humankind’s Derived Glory (8:5)
Even after the Fall, we are still crowned with God’s glory. We are not divine, but we are God’s agents on this creation, the representatives of his kingship. While we praise him for his grace and gift in this, we also have a responsibility to be good stewards, to be accurate representatives of his kingdom.
Jesus Christ was the ultimate Human - the “exact representative of [God’s] being” (Heb. 1:3). He suffered the ultimate indignity for humankind, and so has received the ultimate honor and glory and authority. Everything has been subjected to his rule; all things must submit to him.
Humankind’s Glory as Ruler (8:6-8)
Humans were given authority before the Fall, and God did not remove that authority afterward. We are still here to maintain order, not chaos. Sin has twisted our ability to rule well, but that does not absolve us of our responsibility. The world, contrary to popular idea right now, would not be better off without humankind. Our sin-ridden selves might be bent on destroying the creation, but those of us who have been restored to God know that we are here to preserve and protect the earth. This is our glory and our charge.
Concluding Ascription of Praise (8:9)
See v1.
&&&&&
Notes: Psalm 8 has always been one of my favorite psalms; after studying it more in depth, I love it even more. I hope, this Sunday afternoon (or Monday morning, whenever you read this), it encourages and uplifts you as well.
As always, comments in quotes are taken directly from The Expositor's Bible Commentary on the Psalms, a resource that has been hugely helpful to me in this study.
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Trying to See the Good
"I just want life to go back to normal," I muttered exhaustedly into the phone.
"I know," Carl agreed sympathetically. Normal - whatever that is - sounds pretty good to us both right now.
Joy came down with a fever round about Vermont last Wednesday, traveling to see Carl's family for the holiday. She spent Thursday and Friday barely eating, barely drinking, alternating between cowering away from the dog and cuddling in someone's lap. By Saturday, the day we were coming home, the fever was gone and she seemed back on the track to normal.
Sunday was awful. Monday Carl had to come home early from work. Monday night I called my dad in tears, and we managed to pinpoint the issue.
Joy hadn't had a bowel movement since Wednesday before we left.
Yesterday, a week from when this all started, I finally managed to get some prune juice into her (using a medicine dropper that deposited 1/2 teaspoon into her mouth at a time - we were at it for a long time), and she finally passed a bowel movement during her (unusual) nap.
I cried. We danced. I thought things were going to get better.
Last night she didn't go to sleep until two hours after her normal bedtime (blasted nap). I had to be with her the entire time or she flipped out. Then she woke up around 2:30, wanting me to rock her again. "Mamma's tired," I said. "Cuddle with Mamma in bed."
Cue more screaming.
This morning has been going a little bit better, but she's still throwing temper tantrums up the Wazoo, still screaming "no" in my face when I tell her to do something (like drink water, how cruel, or sit on the potty instead of going in her underwear, how unreasonable), still clinging desperately to me when she starts to get stomach cramps from the leftover gas from the constipation.
I want my Joy back. I want her back now. I don't want to see tiny amounts of progress, each day getting marginally better. I don't want to have to deal with the fallout of letting her have her own way for five days because she was sick. I want her obedient. I want her happy.
(I want to sleep.)
I think it's a miracle God doesn't lose patience with us. We're much more developed intellectually than my three-year-old, and we make much slower progress in the sanctification department. I am amazed that he doesn't reach down and shake us and say: "How much more do I have to do with you? Be holy!"
I am trying to ponder this while I attempt to rein in my frustration at a three-year-old who can't instantly bounce back from severe physical stress (atop traveling stress, atop being around a dog who terrifies her - gee, I'm not at all unreasonable), and I am thinking that perhaps God is using this to teach me something, too.
In the meantime, I probably won't be around as much, blogging or commenting, until things do return to normal. And, if you think of it, and if you are the praying type, please send up a good word for me.
I need it.
"I know," Carl agreed sympathetically. Normal - whatever that is - sounds pretty good to us both right now.
Joy came down with a fever round about Vermont last Wednesday, traveling to see Carl's family for the holiday. She spent Thursday and Friday barely eating, barely drinking, alternating between cowering away from the dog and cuddling in someone's lap. By Saturday, the day we were coming home, the fever was gone and she seemed back on the track to normal.
Sunday was awful. Monday Carl had to come home early from work. Monday night I called my dad in tears, and we managed to pinpoint the issue.
Joy hadn't had a bowel movement since Wednesday before we left.
Yesterday, a week from when this all started, I finally managed to get some prune juice into her (using a medicine dropper that deposited 1/2 teaspoon into her mouth at a time - we were at it for a long time), and she finally passed a bowel movement during her (unusual) nap.
I cried. We danced. I thought things were going to get better.
Last night she didn't go to sleep until two hours after her normal bedtime (blasted nap). I had to be with her the entire time or she flipped out. Then she woke up around 2:30, wanting me to rock her again. "Mamma's tired," I said. "Cuddle with Mamma in bed."
Cue more screaming.
This morning has been going a little bit better, but she's still throwing temper tantrums up the Wazoo, still screaming "no" in my face when I tell her to do something (like drink water, how cruel, or sit on the potty instead of going in her underwear, how unreasonable), still clinging desperately to me when she starts to get stomach cramps from the leftover gas from the constipation.
I want my Joy back. I want her back now. I don't want to see tiny amounts of progress, each day getting marginally better. I don't want to have to deal with the fallout of letting her have her own way for five days because she was sick. I want her obedient. I want her happy.
(I want to sleep.)
I think it's a miracle God doesn't lose patience with us. We're much more developed intellectually than my three-year-old, and we make much slower progress in the sanctification department. I am amazed that he doesn't reach down and shake us and say: "How much more do I have to do with you? Be holy!"
I am trying to ponder this while I attempt to rein in my frustration at a three-year-old who can't instantly bounce back from severe physical stress (atop traveling stress, atop being around a dog who terrifies her - gee, I'm not at all unreasonable), and I am thinking that perhaps God is using this to teach me something, too.
In the meantime, I probably won't be around as much, blogging or commenting, until things do return to normal. And, if you think of it, and if you are the praying type, please send up a good word for me.
I need it.
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