I am so done with the last few weeks. I miss my brain. I miss the emotional stability that I worked so hard for in my life- it's been snatched away by the evil first trimester gods. I shake my fist at them!
So since we told Alpha about Delta on the way, he's been so excited but also really struggling with Thomas. We have always said we didn't want the boys to remember the first time they ever heard about Thomas, we didn't want it to be a shock or a big secret or a huge discussion that they would remember. We just wanted the to always know about it. Alpha every now and then brings up Thomas with statements like "I wish Thomas was here. I wish I could hold him and play with him." I just answer "me, too, buddy" and give him a huge hug.
This last week I was playing with Alpha in his room and he had a snack of snap peas, carrots, crackers, a cheese stick, some water and a pizza pop (well, OK- it was more lunch than snack) and Alpha kept asking me if I wanted a bite of whatever food he had in his hand. If I said "no" then he would say "well, the baby really wants some, so you open your mouth and eat it and it will go into your belly and then the baby will open his mouth and eat it!" which led to a long discussion about what eventually came to be called "stomach food hoses" (the umbilical cord- duh!).
Then Alpha picked up his pizza pop. And stared at it. And looked at me. And stared at it some more. Then he said "pizza pops would make Bravo really sick, right?" I said yes. Then he said "I don't think you should eat a pizza pop because it will make the baby really really sick and then he might not come out." After some discussion he started talking about Thomas. And how he couldn't come out because he got sick and couldn't be with us. And maybe he was allergic to foods that I ate and that's what made him sick. And he didn't want this baby to get sick because he misses Thomas so much and he wants this baby to grow big and pop out.
Wow. Clearly this kid has a lot going on in that little 4 year old brain of his. When I said that it wasn't anything I did or didn't do, or did or didn't eat that made Thomas sick he sat in my lap and hugged me and said "sometimes sickness just happens and he made his own sickness and then couldn't come out, mommy?" I think all I could choke out without crying was a weak little "yup. Sometimes sickness just happens and it's nobody's fault."
Which I think is also the first time I've said (out loud OR in my head) that it isn't my fault that Thomas died.
Since then Alpha just keeps kissing my belly and saying hi to the baby and giving my belly his bear and feeding me things he thinks the baby would like from the food hose.
I'm so glad that Alpha is who he is. He's compassionate and empathetic and really deeply caring. Even if he is sometimes destructive and crazy. I hope that I can take care of the sweet gentle little heart that he has.
I really hope this baby makes it. For me, yes, for the baby, yes, but especially for Alpha. He is so excited about his new baby in mommy's belly and tells it every day to "grow, grow, grow, and then pop out in the summer!"
So Delta, if you're listening, grow grow grow and then pop out healthy in the summer, OK?
Monday 31 October 2011
Saturday 22 October 2011
Food Friday a day late- ham leftovers
OK, so do you remember this ham recipe? I made it for supper last night and again was surprised by just how good it really is. Matt saw we were having ham and made a face. Then he tried a bite and remembered that it's actually really good! He even told me I could make it once a month. Thanks, Matt!
The downfall with ham (for some, but not me because I love love love ham) is that it leaves a lot of leftovers. And there's only so many ham sandwiches one can eat.
SOOOOO.
What To Do With Left Over Crock Pot Ham.
1. after you cook the ham there will be a pile of wonderful juices in the bottom of the crock pot. Don't throw it out!! After you cut up the ham and take all the meat off, throw the bone back into the crock pot and stick it in the fridge over night (bonus! less dishes to wash!)
2. the next day add a big tin of tomatoes, some chopped up carrots, some mushrooms, some diced onion (I prefer mine to be cooked first- but it doesn't matter), some water, half a bag of barley, some chopped celery, and whatever else you want to add. Like pepper or some extra grainy mustard. Important: don't add anything else with salt!! The first time I used some broth instead of water and the thing was so darn salty I almost died. The ham is salty enough so don't add anything else with salt. And don't add the chopped up left over ham yet. That part comes later. Otherwise all the hammy-ness is lost and it's just not as good.
3. there should be enough water/ liquid to make it look a little like soup. This will all absorb as the barley cooks and it will turn into a delicious ham stew type of dish. Freezes well so you can cook it and make a few meals to save for the "I just don't want to cook" days. Turn on crock pot on low for the day.
4. When you're about to server it add a bunch of chopped up leftover ham. and mix well. For the small people in my life I add in a bunch of frozen veggies to add veggies and to act as ice cubes.
yummy yummy yummy!
The downfall with ham (for some, but not me because I love love love ham) is that it leaves a lot of leftovers. And there's only so many ham sandwiches one can eat.
SOOOOO.
What To Do With Left Over Crock Pot Ham.
1. after you cook the ham there will be a pile of wonderful juices in the bottom of the crock pot. Don't throw it out!! After you cut up the ham and take all the meat off, throw the bone back into the crock pot and stick it in the fridge over night (bonus! less dishes to wash!)
2. the next day add a big tin of tomatoes, some chopped up carrots, some mushrooms, some diced onion (I prefer mine to be cooked first- but it doesn't matter), some water, half a bag of barley, some chopped celery, and whatever else you want to add. Like pepper or some extra grainy mustard. Important: don't add anything else with salt!! The first time I used some broth instead of water and the thing was so darn salty I almost died. The ham is salty enough so don't add anything else with salt. And don't add the chopped up left over ham yet. That part comes later. Otherwise all the hammy-ness is lost and it's just not as good.
3. there should be enough water/ liquid to make it look a little like soup. This will all absorb as the barley cooks and it will turn into a delicious ham stew type of dish. Freezes well so you can cook it and make a few meals to save for the "I just don't want to cook" days. Turn on crock pot on low for the day.
4. When you're about to server it add a bunch of chopped up leftover ham. and mix well. For the small people in my life I add in a bunch of frozen veggies to add veggies and to act as ice cubes.
yummy yummy yummy!
Thursday 20 October 2011
the dissapearing mom
Some days I find it hard not to just.... disappear. *Poof*. There's just so much to do. So many things to get caught up on. Laundry (dear me, the laundry), unloading the dishwasher for the 38th time in a day (how do 5 people go through THAT many dishes? Seriously?) feeding small people, putting small people to sleep, then getting them up and feeding them again just in time to bathe them and put them back to sleep. I figured out that I put small people to bed 7-8 times a day. Which will only get worse come June. And I don't think I could count the number of times I give small people food. Probably around 784. Then there's the playing (fun) and the refereeing (less fun) and the wiping and the cleaning and the tidying and the sorting and the shoe-putting-on-ing that consumes the remaining minutes of the day.
Some days I remember to get dressed at 3:55 (Matthew gets home shortly after 4) or realize that I haven't brushed my teeth in the entire day. I mean, gum is great, but that gets gross. My shirts are a disaster and my jeans have at least 3 different kinds of bodily fluid on them at any given time, even if they JUST got washed (which is only marginally better than the yoga pants that I change out of at 3:55) and I can't remember the last time I straightened my hair and did something nice with it other than stuff it in a pony tail. Wait- yes I can. It was our anniversary- September 15th. That was a month ago.
And some days I get so bogged down in this. I forget who I am, why I'm here, what I was doing with my life before my small people came into the world. I have become Mom. I have been swallowed whole by parenthood. I know one day I'll be spit back out the other end, but not for the foreseeable future.
And some days I forget that I WANT this. I know I chose it, I know I love my small people more than anything ever but it's easy to lose sight of that when somebody is squishing somebody else because the weapon made out of blocks got hit on somebody's head and broke and hit-ee is upset because, well, he got hit, and the hit-er is upset because in his eyes the hit-ee broke theblock stack light saber and all three small people are screaming because they're hungry/ tired/ and grouchy all at the same time.
Some days I want to skip the next 5 years and get to the part past really little kids. And I feel terrible writing that. But it's true. But I KNOW I'll miss this. The stories that Alpha tell me now are so very adorable. And I know there will come a day when I can't fix everything in Bravos life with a hug and a heart-felt round of "you are my sunshine". And little Charlie- that kid would smile and laugh at the wall, he's that easily amused. And it's beautiful. And I am so thankful that he's not yet walking and talking and that he's still my baby.
I guess I'm still really reeling from this new small person coming into my life and bringing me back to first trimester (seriously- I forgot how much first trimester sucks monkey balls) and then to newborn and it feels like I will be immersed in small-people-ness for an eternity now. I know it won't be like that. I know it will fly by in a blink. That it will seem like next week when Delta is turning 1. I just have to get past monkey-ball-sucking first trimester first.
I guess I'm still coming to terms with this and figuring out how my life will (or really in some ways won't) change. It was supposed to start going back to me being a little bit more "me" now that the youngest is almost one.
But this is OK. I had a dream last night that they were going to do a c-section at 24 weeks (they told me while I was on a foot ball field, but whatever) and I curled into a fetal position and clutched my belly and screamed and cried. I woke up in the fetal position clutching my belly and crying. I didn't want this pregnancy, but I so deeply want this baby to be healthy and come at the proper time (are you listening, delta? Not too early and NOT LATE) and even though my emotions are still everywhere I love this little person and am excited to see a new member of our family and how (s)he fits in. If it's a he though he will not have a name. Seriously. We were stumped with the third boy, we're down right OUT of boy names.
Alpha wants to help.....
RHHJFHDFHDFGFGHFDGGFGHFGSJFS HGGGHFFGFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFGFG.
I guess I just wasn't prepared for the true cost of children. Not the money (though that's pretty significant) but everything else. At the end of the day though I wouldn't have changed this, even had I known. I might have gone on a fancy vacation before conceiving, but that's about it.
One day I will re-appear as me. Or as the new me. The post-kid, got her life together, hair is brushed new me. And I look forward to meeting that person. And I sure hope she's loved by all her small people because I adore each and everyone of them, even little delta who has thrown me for a big ol' loop. And maybe, just maybe, the new me will have clean pants and brushed teeth. Maybe. A girl can dream.
Some days I remember to get dressed at 3:55 (Matthew gets home shortly after 4) or realize that I haven't brushed my teeth in the entire day. I mean, gum is great, but that gets gross. My shirts are a disaster and my jeans have at least 3 different kinds of bodily fluid on them at any given time, even if they JUST got washed (which is only marginally better than the yoga pants that I change out of at 3:55) and I can't remember the last time I straightened my hair and did something nice with it other than stuff it in a pony tail. Wait- yes I can. It was our anniversary- September 15th. That was a month ago.
And some days I get so bogged down in this. I forget who I am, why I'm here, what I was doing with my life before my small people came into the world. I have become Mom. I have been swallowed whole by parenthood. I know one day I'll be spit back out the other end, but not for the foreseeable future.
And some days I forget that I WANT this. I know I chose it, I know I love my small people more than anything ever but it's easy to lose sight of that when somebody is squishing somebody else because the weapon made out of blocks got hit on somebody's head and broke and hit-ee is upset because, well, he got hit, and the hit-er is upset because in his eyes the hit-ee broke the
Some days I want to skip the next 5 years and get to the part past really little kids. And I feel terrible writing that. But it's true. But I KNOW I'll miss this. The stories that Alpha tell me now are so very adorable. And I know there will come a day when I can't fix everything in Bravos life with a hug and a heart-felt round of "you are my sunshine". And little Charlie- that kid would smile and laugh at the wall, he's that easily amused. And it's beautiful. And I am so thankful that he's not yet walking and talking and that he's still my baby.
I guess I'm still really reeling from this new small person coming into my life and bringing me back to first trimester (seriously- I forgot how much first trimester sucks monkey balls) and then to newborn and it feels like I will be immersed in small-people-ness for an eternity now. I know it won't be like that. I know it will fly by in a blink. That it will seem like next week when Delta is turning 1. I just have to get past monkey-ball-sucking first trimester first.
I guess I'm still coming to terms with this and figuring out how my life will (or really in some ways won't) change. It was supposed to start going back to me being a little bit more "me" now that the youngest is almost one.
But this is OK. I had a dream last night that they were going to do a c-section at 24 weeks (they told me while I was on a foot ball field, but whatever) and I curled into a fetal position and clutched my belly and screamed and cried. I woke up in the fetal position clutching my belly and crying. I didn't want this pregnancy, but I so deeply want this baby to be healthy and come at the proper time (are you listening, delta? Not too early and NOT LATE) and even though my emotions are still everywhere I love this little person and am excited to see a new member of our family and how (s)he fits in. If it's a he though he will not have a name. Seriously. We were stumped with the third boy, we're down right OUT of boy names.
Alpha wants to help.....
RHHJFHDFHDFGFGHFDGGFGHFGSJFS HGGGHFFGFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFGFG.
I guess I just wasn't prepared for the true cost of children. Not the money (though that's pretty significant) but everything else. At the end of the day though I wouldn't have changed this, even had I known. I might have gone on a fancy vacation before conceiving, but that's about it.
One day I will re-appear as me. Or as the new me. The post-kid, got her life together, hair is brushed new me. And I look forward to meeting that person. And I sure hope she's loved by all her small people because I adore each and everyone of them, even little delta who has thrown me for a big ol' loop. And maybe, just maybe, the new me will have clean pants and brushed teeth. Maybe. A girl can dream.
Thursday 13 October 2011
Thankful for boys
I had no idea what I was missing in my life before I had a house of boys. I sometimes feel really really "out-of-the-loop" in my own house. Like every other member is part of some other culture and I'm on the periphery trying to figure it out.
Top 10 Thing I Have Learned From Boys
1. Penises are awesome. I mean really really awesome. And fun to talk about. And yell about. And be weird with. I don't think I can count the number of times in a day I bark a command about penises. "Bravo! Stop touching your brother with your penis!", "Alpha, don't chance Bravo with your penis!" "Bravo, get your penis out of the pot, I need to cook with that!" "argh! Penises are NOT weapons. They're penises. Go put on some underpants!" And the more I bark about them the more they're toys.
2. Love is best showed by sitting on, beating, burping on, farting on, squishing, or otherwise annoying and bothering the person you are showing love for.
3. There is a BIG difference between a front end load and a back hoe digger and a bulldozer and an excavator and a bunch of other machines that I don't care about. And if you get the name wrong you WILL be corrected and have the difference explained to you. So listen and learn or this will happen tomorrow, too. And when I'm old and grey and have lost my mind I will still know the names of all these machines.
4. Little boys are gross. Boys being gross does not start "later". It is not learned from school mates or TV or anywhere else. They just are. And it's wonderful. Usually.
5. Rocks in the dryer are loud. Especially when there's 27 of them.
6. Mommies are better than anybody else in the whole wide world.
7. It is inherient in little boys to torture people. Maybe this is closly related to #2. Alpha already tortures Bravo with dangling spit (he's 4!!!) and Bravo has been told repeatedly that Charlie does NOT want to suck on his toe.
8. If there's a choice between calm and destruction, always always always choose destruction.
9. Rain and mud and puddles and dirt is not a deterant for going outside. It is a wonderful bonus. And if you've lost a boy look for the nearest puddle. He will be in it.
10. If nobody else is watching then snuggling is actually pretty awesome. But not as awesome as penises.
Top 10 Thing I Have Learned From Boys
1. Penises are awesome. I mean really really awesome. And fun to talk about. And yell about. And be weird with. I don't think I can count the number of times in a day I bark a command about penises. "Bravo! Stop touching your brother with your penis!", "Alpha, don't chance Bravo with your penis!" "Bravo, get your penis out of the pot, I need to cook with that!" "argh! Penises are NOT weapons. They're penises. Go put on some underpants!" And the more I bark about them the more they're toys.
2. Love is best showed by sitting on, beating, burping on, farting on, squishing, or otherwise annoying and bothering the person you are showing love for.
3. There is a BIG difference between a front end load and a back hoe digger and a bulldozer and an excavator and a bunch of other machines that I don't care about. And if you get the name wrong you WILL be corrected and have the difference explained to you. So listen and learn or this will happen tomorrow, too. And when I'm old and grey and have lost my mind I will still know the names of all these machines.
4. Little boys are gross. Boys being gross does not start "later". It is not learned from school mates or TV or anywhere else. They just are. And it's wonderful. Usually.
5. Rocks in the dryer are loud. Especially when there's 27 of them.
6. Mommies are better than anybody else in the whole wide world.
7. It is inherient in little boys to torture people. Maybe this is closly related to #2. Alpha already tortures Bravo with dangling spit (he's 4!!!) and Bravo has been told repeatedly that Charlie does NOT want to suck on his toe.
8. If there's a choice between calm and destruction, always always always choose destruction.
9. Rain and mud and puddles and dirt is not a deterant for going outside. It is a wonderful bonus. And if you've lost a boy look for the nearest puddle. He will be in it.
10. If nobody else is watching then snuggling is actually pretty awesome. But not as awesome as penises.
Wednesday 12 October 2011
wordless wednesday- things on the interweb that crack me up
I saw this on Ellen and it made me smile.
Tuesday 11 October 2011
changed-worry
I've been thinking about this question a lot lately: How has being a parent changed you?
There's the obvious answers. Change in priorities, limited ability to get out without small people hanging off of you and crying for juice boxes, sleep deprivation, relationship changes, friendship changes, etc etc etc. And all that is true. But I think the biggest change for me is the worry.
Everybody worries. I did before I was a parent. Will I have enough money? Will my living accommodations work out? Will my job be stable? What will happen if I need to leave my job? Is my relationship going to make it? Funny how those things seemed big to me then. And now I yearn for the days when those were my worries. I still worry about many of the things on that list, but those are some small potatoes.
And most of my new worries are also still probably small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. But to me they are huge. And some are all consuming.
When I found out I was pregnant the beginning of the "will I be a good mom?" started. And it's never ended. I question constantly if I am doing right by my children. I worry I am scarring them if I lose my cool. I worry I am teaching them bad habits. I worry I don't hug them enough, have the right blanace of help/ independance, or spend enough 1-on-1 time with each child.
I worry about when Alpha goes to kindergarten. Will the other kids like him? Will he find friends? Will he be invited to birthday parties? Will the teachers like him? Will he be able to sit still long enough to do anything? Will he be behind?
When Bravo almost died at 4 months and 2 weeks old my life changed. I was now Allergy Mom. Watching your baby on a table, grey and lifeless, having 15 people try to stabilize his heart, putting breathing tubes in his throat, put IV after IV after IV into him, strapping monitors onto him and yelling at you trying to figure out what is happening to this incredibly small person while the whole time that small person stares at you unable to cry, unable to do anything but stare, that changes a person. Being Bravo's mom has introduced a whole new level of worry to my life. I am terrified of the day he goes to school. When I can't keep him in his allergy-free bubble. I am terrified of others being in contact with his food. I am terrified of other kids and other parents. What if the really friendly child shares a goldfish cracker. Bravo knows to not eat it, but what if the friendly kid then touches Bravos juice straw. What then? Will there be a teacher on the play ground that knows that when he starts throwing up there is only a matter of a minute or two to get that epi pen into him? The worry that holds my gut about my sweet boy is immense.
When I was pregnant with Charlie yet another set of worries was born. Would my baby make it? Would he live past a couple of hours old? And if he did will he always know some where deep inside that his twin is missing? Does he not sleep because he's lonely?
Will my boys get along? Will they look after each other? Will Matthew and I be around to watch our kids grow up? What if something happens to us? Or to one of the kids? What if schizophrenia rears it's ugly head and chooses one of my sweet boys like it did to my brother, 2 cousins (male), an uncle, and a grandfather? What will I do then?
If I let the worry run wild I would not be able to get out of bed in the morning. Some days it's all I can do to keep the worry at bay. And those days I hug my kids a little harder, tell them I love them a little more, and check on them one extra time while they lay sweetly sleeping.
And I know that this worry will never leave. It may shift and change as the boys grow into their own and become young men in charge of their own lives and (hopefully) some allergies are outgrown, but the worry will always be there. When I peed on that stick in January 2007 my life was changed. And even to erase all the worry in the world I would not change it back. Not even for one second.
There's the obvious answers. Change in priorities, limited ability to get out without small people hanging off of you and crying for juice boxes, sleep deprivation, relationship changes, friendship changes, etc etc etc. And all that is true. But I think the biggest change for me is the worry.
Everybody worries. I did before I was a parent. Will I have enough money? Will my living accommodations work out? Will my job be stable? What will happen if I need to leave my job? Is my relationship going to make it? Funny how those things seemed big to me then. And now I yearn for the days when those were my worries. I still worry about many of the things on that list, but those are some small potatoes.
And most of my new worries are also still probably small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. But to me they are huge. And some are all consuming.
When I found out I was pregnant the beginning of the "will I be a good mom?" started. And it's never ended. I question constantly if I am doing right by my children. I worry I am scarring them if I lose my cool. I worry I am teaching them bad habits. I worry I don't hug them enough, have the right blanace of help/ independance, or spend enough 1-on-1 time with each child.
I worry about when Alpha goes to kindergarten. Will the other kids like him? Will he find friends? Will he be invited to birthday parties? Will the teachers like him? Will he be able to sit still long enough to do anything? Will he be behind?
When Bravo almost died at 4 months and 2 weeks old my life changed. I was now Allergy Mom. Watching your baby on a table, grey and lifeless, having 15 people try to stabilize his heart, putting breathing tubes in his throat, put IV after IV after IV into him, strapping monitors onto him and yelling at you trying to figure out what is happening to this incredibly small person while the whole time that small person stares at you unable to cry, unable to do anything but stare, that changes a person. Being Bravo's mom has introduced a whole new level of worry to my life. I am terrified of the day he goes to school. When I can't keep him in his allergy-free bubble. I am terrified of others being in contact with his food. I am terrified of other kids and other parents. What if the really friendly child shares a goldfish cracker. Bravo knows to not eat it, but what if the friendly kid then touches Bravos juice straw. What then? Will there be a teacher on the play ground that knows that when he starts throwing up there is only a matter of a minute or two to get that epi pen into him? The worry that holds my gut about my sweet boy is immense.
When I was pregnant with Charlie yet another set of worries was born. Would my baby make it? Would he live past a couple of hours old? And if he did will he always know some where deep inside that his twin is missing? Does he not sleep because he's lonely?
Will my boys get along? Will they look after each other? Will Matthew and I be around to watch our kids grow up? What if something happens to us? Or to one of the kids? What if schizophrenia rears it's ugly head and chooses one of my sweet boys like it did to my brother, 2 cousins (male), an uncle, and a grandfather? What will I do then?
If I let the worry run wild I would not be able to get out of bed in the morning. Some days it's all I can do to keep the worry at bay. And those days I hug my kids a little harder, tell them I love them a little more, and check on them one extra time while they lay sweetly sleeping.
And I know that this worry will never leave. It may shift and change as the boys grow into their own and become young men in charge of their own lives and (hopefully) some allergies are outgrown, but the worry will always be there. When I peed on that stick in January 2007 my life was changed. And even to erase all the worry in the world I would not change it back. Not even for one second.
Friday 7 October 2011
Food Friday- best ham ever cooked
Matt hates ham. I love ham. We were at ham odds. But I always won because I cook and he doesn't, so if I want it I cook it. But I really prefer it that people eating my cooking actually LIKE it and don't just take their "thank-you portions". So I went on a ham recipe hunt. I know I know.... how hard is it to cook a ham???
But if you follow this then even ham haters may change their mind. Matt loves this ham, which is saying a lot. If my parents ever make ham now he just leans over and says oh so quietly "your ham is way better."
Plus- it's cooked in a crock pot which takes away so much of the hassle of cooking- like doing it during my every so precious triple threat nap time.
Crock Pot Ham Even Ham-Haters Will Like
5 lb-ish ham.**Not one of those little pretty pre-cooked hams. A real ham with the bone in. But don't forget to take the plastic thing off the end of the bone** try to not buy one so big it won't fit in your crock pot. Because then you have to cut chunks off and stuff it in the sides. Not that I've done that before.
1/2 cup apple juice
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 Tablespoon honey
1 Tablespoon mustard (I use grainy- but normal will do if you don't have it)
1/8 teaspoon pepper
1/4 teaspoon cloves
Score ham with a knife
Put it in your crock pot
Mix all the dark purple ingredients in a bowl
pour juice over ham
rub the sugar mixture over the ham with your hands
cover and cook on low for about 8 hours. Could be a bit more if you're out of the house and aren't home for 9.
yummy yummy yummy!
But if you follow this then even ham haters may change their mind. Matt loves this ham, which is saying a lot. If my parents ever make ham now he just leans over and says oh so quietly "your ham is way better."
Plus- it's cooked in a crock pot which takes away so much of the hassle of cooking- like doing it during my every so precious triple threat nap time.
Crock Pot Ham Even Ham-Haters Will Like
5 lb-ish ham.**Not one of those little pretty pre-cooked hams. A real ham with the bone in. But don't forget to take the plastic thing off the end of the bone** try to not buy one so big it won't fit in your crock pot. Because then you have to cut chunks off and stuff it in the sides. Not that I've done that before.
1/2 cup apple juice
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 Tablespoon honey
1 Tablespoon mustard (I use grainy- but normal will do if you don't have it)
1/8 teaspoon pepper
1/4 teaspoon cloves
Score ham with a knife
Put it in your crock pot
Mix all the dark purple ingredients in a bowl
pour juice over ham
rub the sugar mixture over the ham with your hands
cover and cook on low for about 8 hours. Could be a bit more if you're out of the house and aren't home for 9.
yummy yummy yummy!
Thursday 6 October 2011
Thankful... for Surprises
Or at least I'm trying to be. You know when you have your life mapped out and planned and you think you know what's going on and that you're in control? And then you know the feeling when you get knocked off your once cute firm pre-baby little bum? That's where I am.
Next summer I was going to have an 18month old and a 3 year old and an almost 5 year old. And I was really really looking forward to that. I was so excited to be out of baby-mode. To see my kids getting older and to move on with the next phase of my life.
Then on Tuesday I peed on a stick. For about the millionth time in my life.
And now I will have a newborn and a 17 month old and a three year old and a not-yet-5 year old. It was never in my plans to have 4 kids under 5.
But plans have a way of changing and surprises have a way of, well, surprising.
SURPRISE!
So I'm trying really hard to be thankful. And I'm trying really hard to wrap my brain around this. And I am thankful for sweet baby Delta surprise. It's just going to take some time to get used to this. Thank goodness pregnancy is 9 months! I have some time.
If Delta doesn't make it, I will be both sad and relieved. Probably in equal measure. And I feel sad about that. I have only ever been thrilled for pregnancies, so this is new. I keep coming back to the thought that Thomas is giving us this gift. And if the baby doesn't make it, then Thomas will have somebody to play with, hang out with, love, and steal toys from (are there toys in heaven?? there must be!) until Matt and I are there to hold them.
Come on, brain. Hurry up and process because I just want to get to excited.
SO I'm thankful that my life is not under my control. I'm thankful that there are surprises in life, I am thankful for babies, even unplanned ones, I am thankful for being blessed with this child, and I am thankful that there is time before this child is here.
oh- one more thing. I re-read my last post and then I laughed at the line about "your pregnancy was unplanned?" Hmmm. Looks like Karma came to call. Again. Lesson learned. All babies are blessings. Planned or not. The unplanned ones take the same time to implant in our wombs, they just take a little longer to implant in our hearts.
Next summer I was going to have an 18month old and a 3 year old and an almost 5 year old. And I was really really looking forward to that. I was so excited to be out of baby-mode. To see my kids getting older and to move on with the next phase of my life.
Then on Tuesday I peed on a stick. For about the millionth time in my life.
And now I will have a newborn and a 17 month old and a three year old and a not-yet-5 year old. It was never in my plans to have 4 kids under 5.
But plans have a way of changing and surprises have a way of, well, surprising.
SURPRISE!
So I'm trying really hard to be thankful. And I'm trying really hard to wrap my brain around this. And I am thankful for sweet baby Delta surprise. It's just going to take some time to get used to this. Thank goodness pregnancy is 9 months! I have some time.
If Delta doesn't make it, I will be both sad and relieved. Probably in equal measure. And I feel sad about that. I have only ever been thrilled for pregnancies, so this is new. I keep coming back to the thought that Thomas is giving us this gift. And if the baby doesn't make it, then Thomas will have somebody to play with, hang out with, love, and steal toys from (are there toys in heaven?? there must be!) until Matt and I are there to hold them.
Come on, brain. Hurry up and process because I just want to get to excited.
SO I'm thankful that my life is not under my control. I'm thankful that there are surprises in life, I am thankful for babies, even unplanned ones, I am thankful for being blessed with this child, and I am thankful that there is time before this child is here.
oh- one more thing. I re-read my last post and then I laughed at the line about "your pregnancy was unplanned?" Hmmm. Looks like Karma came to call. Again. Lesson learned. All babies are blessings. Planned or not. The unplanned ones take the same time to implant in our wombs, they just take a little longer to implant in our hearts.
Tuesday 4 October 2011
changed- the good in the world.
The question "how has being a mom changed you? has been one I've been thinking a lot about. And I wrote one post but haven't put it up yet because the more I think about it, it has changed me in many ways. The post I wrote is about worry, but I'll save that for another day.
One of the other ways that I have changed: kindness. I've never been a "mean" person, but I have my share of judgments. Or I did. Before I was a mom I looked down my nose at those bottle feeding (seriously- did these women never hear that breast is best???) or at the mom with kids freaking out in the store. Or the moms freaking out on their kids. I mean- they're just kids and even if they're not behaving well a 4 year old yelling isn't cause to lose your cool. Um, you're not potty trained?? and your almost 3??? and a whole host of things. You didn't have a "natural" birth? You had an unplanned child??
Then I because a mom. And everything changed. I changed. And Karma Came To Visit. SURPRISE CHRISSY! you're the mom bottle feeding because breastfeeding went to hell in a hand basket (what, by the way, does that even mean??) and my first wasn't fully potty trained until after 3. He was day trained earlier, but he was over 3 until we got the hang of nights. Oh- and yesterday? I nearly throttled my 4 year old at the park because he was poking some day care kid with a stick and then when I told him to go wait by the stroller so I could gather up his brothers he threw his shoes at me. And then slapped me in the face. And then ran away. So the daycare providers of 12 kids had a nice little show of me losing it on a 4 year old and that 4 year old freaking and flailing and the 2 year old shrieking because the 4 year old was shrieking and the baby was sobbing because he was past his nap.
And now, I just seriously don't care how other people raise their kids. I mean, I care that the kids are loved and cared for and cherished and played with and probably fed, but the rest? None of my bees wax. Because parenting is hard. And we do what we can. And sometimes we lose it. And sometimes we are superstars who handle temper tantrums with grace and perfection. If I see a mom who could use some help and I've got a spare hand, then sure I'll ask if I can jump in. And if somebody asks what I've done when, or is searching for opinions, then I'll share what has worked for my family. But that's all I know. What works for my family. I don't know what works for yours.
When I see other kids my heart just warms because I see good in the world. Even if that child is having "a day", they are the good in the world, just as my kids are the good in the world. They have wonderful stories to tell, wonderful dreams to live, wonderful things to share with us and teach us, and life just glistening in their sweet little eyes. And seeing the good in this world makes me a kinder, gentler, nicer person. And that's a good thing.
One of the other ways that I have changed: kindness. I've never been a "mean" person, but I have my share of judgments. Or I did. Before I was a mom I looked down my nose at those bottle feeding (seriously- did these women never hear that breast is best???) or at the mom with kids freaking out in the store. Or the moms freaking out on their kids. I mean- they're just kids and even if they're not behaving well a 4 year old yelling isn't cause to lose your cool. Um, you're not potty trained?? and your almost 3??? and a whole host of things. You didn't have a "natural" birth? You had an unplanned child??
Then I because a mom. And everything changed. I changed. And Karma Came To Visit. SURPRISE CHRISSY! you're the mom bottle feeding because breastfeeding went to hell in a hand basket (what, by the way, does that even mean??) and my first wasn't fully potty trained until after 3. He was day trained earlier, but he was over 3 until we got the hang of nights. Oh- and yesterday? I nearly throttled my 4 year old at the park because he was poking some day care kid with a stick and then when I told him to go wait by the stroller so I could gather up his brothers he threw his shoes at me. And then slapped me in the face. And then ran away. So the daycare providers of 12 kids had a nice little show of me losing it on a 4 year old and that 4 year old freaking and flailing and the 2 year old shrieking because the 4 year old was shrieking and the baby was sobbing because he was past his nap.
And now, I just seriously don't care how other people raise their kids. I mean, I care that the kids are loved and cared for and cherished and played with and probably fed, but the rest? None of my bees wax. Because parenting is hard. And we do what we can. And sometimes we lose it. And sometimes we are superstars who handle temper tantrums with grace and perfection. If I see a mom who could use some help and I've got a spare hand, then sure I'll ask if I can jump in. And if somebody asks what I've done when, or is searching for opinions, then I'll share what has worked for my family. But that's all I know. What works for my family. I don't know what works for yours.
When I see other kids my heart just warms because I see good in the world. Even if that child is having "a day", they are the good in the world, just as my kids are the good in the world. They have wonderful stories to tell, wonderful dreams to live, wonderful things to share with us and teach us, and life just glistening in their sweet little eyes. And seeing the good in this world makes me a kinder, gentler, nicer person. And that's a good thing.
Monday 3 October 2011
Thomas- part 3- my missing peice
There's the facts about my pregnancy with Thomas and there's the facts about the birth.Those are the easy parts to tell. Well, "easy" I guess would be more accurate. But they just are what they are. Facts. It doesn't change. August 26, 2010 will never change. January 13, 2011 will always be Charlie's birthday- the day he was born without his twin. The facts of what happened just are, they're not fluid, they don't change depending on who's telling them, they don't change day-by-day, they just are.
But then there's everything else. Things I don't talk about. There's life after Part 1 and Part 2. And that's the hard part. Facts are easy. The rest changes and every time it changes the pain and grief and longing find a new place of my heart and soul to move in to.
I was talking with Matt last night about Thomas. We don't talk about it very often, only when I can't hold in my grief and it bubbles out. We grieve differently. And because he never really talks about it I often feel like I am the only one who remembers Thomas, the only one that misses him this much, the only one who notices that he's missing. I know I'm not, I know Matt feels that way too, but it's often just very lonely. There is a Walk To Remember here on October 15th. That I so very much want to take part in, take Thomas' brothers to say goodbye and let balloons go for him. But I will be in Edmonton saying goodbye to my grandma who will not be here much longer. When I told Matt that I wished I had known about the walk sooner so I could have booked flights on a different day, he said that though I couldn't go to the walk to remember and say goodbye to Thomas, I was going to say goodbye to Grandma. And my first thought was "I wish that she were the one that was dead and not him". And I know that's a terrible thing to think. But the more I thought about it there are only 4 people in this life that i would not trade- Matt, Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie. Anybody else in my life, even people I am very close to, I would trade in a heartbeat if it meant Thomas could live.
There are some days I wonder if I had known earlier if something could have been changed and all this would have ended differently. What if I had pushed the midwife to send me for an ultrasound when I had a bright pink gush of liquid at 13w5d? Would they have been able to do anything? I know probably not, but I still wonder. There is one thing that I deeply regret. And that's not bringing home the placenta to bury in the summer. I wish I had thought that through further, had the foresight to know I would regret that. Instead of Having Thomas' remains respected and lovingly placed in the ground I chose to have the hospital dispose of them. To throw my sweet little Thomas out with the other garbage. And I hate that I let them do that. And I wish that I had thought about that.
I keep waiting for the grief to lessen. And some days it does. But it's always there. And a year later I think I'm coming to the realization that this grief will always be here. That it will always be a part of me and will never fade into the background like I thought it would. And some days it's hard to accept that. And some days I'm glad for that because even if I'm the only one who remembers, Thomas will never ever be forgotten.
Dear Thomas,
Not a day has gone by that I don't think of you. Long for you. Wish that you were here. Some days it's fine, you're in my thoughts and life carries on. Some days it's with every breath in and every breath out that I think of you. And some days, like this weekend, you not being here hits me so hard that I am knocked to my knees and I can't breath and all that can come out are body-shaking sobs. Those days are less than they were before, but they still happen. I wasn't prepared for this. I thought that by now I would "be over it". Not that I would have forgotten you, but that the grief would be in memory and wouldn't be so raw, wouldn't some days feel so new and fresh.
I watch your brothers and I think about how they are also missing you from their lives. I watch Charlie without you and I miss you even more. I know what you would be doing and what stage you would be in, because Charlie is doing it, too. And I just wish (wish seems like such a weak word compared to what I do- but I don't know what word to use) that you were beside him, sucking on his fingers and him sucking on yours. Pulling at each others faces and laying beside each other. Starting to try to crawl, doing all these things with your brother instead of watching over him. Charlie misses you. He doesn't sleep well and I think he's lonely. I think he knows that somebody is missing. And you are, you're missing from every part of our lives and you are missed.
What I wish for you my sweet boy is that you're happy. And loved and warm and taken care of and held when you need it. Please look out for us. And when I come to meet you I will give you that never-ending hug that I wish I could give you now. You have touched my life and touched my heart and not even for a second do I wish that you had never happened. I want for you to be here with us instead, but since you can't be, I need you to know I wouldn't change you out of existence.
I love you forever and ever and ever,
Mommy.
But then there's everything else. Things I don't talk about. There's life after Part 1 and Part 2. And that's the hard part. Facts are easy. The rest changes and every time it changes the pain and grief and longing find a new place of my heart and soul to move in to.
I was talking with Matt last night about Thomas. We don't talk about it very often, only when I can't hold in my grief and it bubbles out. We grieve differently. And because he never really talks about it I often feel like I am the only one who remembers Thomas, the only one that misses him this much, the only one who notices that he's missing. I know I'm not, I know Matt feels that way too, but it's often just very lonely. There is a Walk To Remember here on October 15th. That I so very much want to take part in, take Thomas' brothers to say goodbye and let balloons go for him. But I will be in Edmonton saying goodbye to my grandma who will not be here much longer. When I told Matt that I wished I had known about the walk sooner so I could have booked flights on a different day, he said that though I couldn't go to the walk to remember and say goodbye to Thomas, I was going to say goodbye to Grandma. And my first thought was "I wish that she were the one that was dead and not him". And I know that's a terrible thing to think. But the more I thought about it there are only 4 people in this life that i would not trade- Matt, Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie. Anybody else in my life, even people I am very close to, I would trade in a heartbeat if it meant Thomas could live.
There are some days I wonder if I had known earlier if something could have been changed and all this would have ended differently. What if I had pushed the midwife to send me for an ultrasound when I had a bright pink gush of liquid at 13w5d? Would they have been able to do anything? I know probably not, but I still wonder. There is one thing that I deeply regret. And that's not bringing home the placenta to bury in the summer. I wish I had thought that through further, had the foresight to know I would regret that. Instead of Having Thomas' remains respected and lovingly placed in the ground I chose to have the hospital dispose of them. To throw my sweet little Thomas out with the other garbage. And I hate that I let them do that. And I wish that I had thought about that.
I keep waiting for the grief to lessen. And some days it does. But it's always there. And a year later I think I'm coming to the realization that this grief will always be here. That it will always be a part of me and will never fade into the background like I thought it would. And some days it's hard to accept that. And some days I'm glad for that because even if I'm the only one who remembers, Thomas will never ever be forgotten.
Dear Thomas,
Not a day has gone by that I don't think of you. Long for you. Wish that you were here. Some days it's fine, you're in my thoughts and life carries on. Some days it's with every breath in and every breath out that I think of you. And some days, like this weekend, you not being here hits me so hard that I am knocked to my knees and I can't breath and all that can come out are body-shaking sobs. Those days are less than they were before, but they still happen. I wasn't prepared for this. I thought that by now I would "be over it". Not that I would have forgotten you, but that the grief would be in memory and wouldn't be so raw, wouldn't some days feel so new and fresh.
I watch your brothers and I think about how they are also missing you from their lives. I watch Charlie without you and I miss you even more. I know what you would be doing and what stage you would be in, because Charlie is doing it, too. And I just wish (wish seems like such a weak word compared to what I do- but I don't know what word to use) that you were beside him, sucking on his fingers and him sucking on yours. Pulling at each others faces and laying beside each other. Starting to try to crawl, doing all these things with your brother instead of watching over him. Charlie misses you. He doesn't sleep well and I think he's lonely. I think he knows that somebody is missing. And you are, you're missing from every part of our lives and you are missed.
What I wish for you my sweet boy is that you're happy. And loved and warm and taken care of and held when you need it. Please look out for us. And when I come to meet you I will give you that never-ending hug that I wish I could give you now. You have touched my life and touched my heart and not even for a second do I wish that you had never happened. I want for you to be here with us instead, but since you can't be, I need you to know I wouldn't change you out of existence.
I love you forever and ever and ever,
Mommy.
Saturday 1 October 2011
food friday- chocolate oreo cupcakes
So, I suck and I had already posted this recipe but a week later I accidentally deleted it but I still want it on here. So I'll post it again, but without whatever smart and witty and clever and well-written banter it had before (I can pretend because it's now deleted out of existence). Lesson learned: don't try to change the title of the entry to make it more clear because then you push the wrong buttons and the whole thing disappears into the air.
Allergy Friendly Chocolate Cupcakes with Oreo Icing.
I made close to a billion of these last week for Alpha's fourth birthday party. Which turned out awesome.
Cupcakes:
4 1/2 cups flour
3 cups sugar
1 cup cocoa powder
1 cup canola oil
3 cups rice milk (or water, or normal milk- whatever you use)
3 teaspoons baking soda
3 tablespoons vanilla
Pre-heat oven to 350
mix dry ingredients together with a fork.
mix wet ingredients in a separate bowl.
add wet to dry and mix well with a wooden spoon for 2 minutes or until well blended
pour into prepared cupcake tins (or minis, or a 9 x 13 cake pan or 2 round cake pans)
***let sit for 5 minutes before putting in oven for the soda to activate***
bake for 25 minutes or until a tester comes out clean. (1 hr for a 9x13 cake)
this recipe both halves and doubles easily and is very yummy. yields: about 30 large-ish cupcakes
Oreo cookie icing
4 cups icing sugar
1 cup shortening or lard or whatever. you could use butter, but shortening makes it taste more like oreos.
pinch of salt (cuts the sweetness a bit)
1/2 package of crushed oreos (I used my food processor so it would go through my piping bag)
1 1/2 -3 tablespoons of rice milk (or whatever milk or cream you want). Start with the smaller amount of milk and add until you have the right consistency.
These came out really well, that's the first time I tried to add oreos to the icing. I served with a mini Oreo on top (cute) and for the kids at the party I put a cupcake in the back of a cheap plastic dump truck. It looked great and the kids loved it!
Allergy Friendly Chocolate Cupcakes with Oreo Icing.
I made close to a billion of these last week for Alpha's fourth birthday party. Which turned out awesome.
Cupcakes:
4 1/2 cups flour
3 cups sugar
1 cup cocoa powder
1 cup canola oil
3 cups rice milk (or water, or normal milk- whatever you use)
3 teaspoons baking soda
3 tablespoons vanilla
Pre-heat oven to 350
mix dry ingredients together with a fork.
mix wet ingredients in a separate bowl.
add wet to dry and mix well with a wooden spoon for 2 minutes or until well blended
pour into prepared cupcake tins (or minis, or a 9 x 13 cake pan or 2 round cake pans)
***let sit for 5 minutes before putting in oven for the soda to activate***
bake for 25 minutes or until a tester comes out clean. (1 hr for a 9x13 cake)
this recipe both halves and doubles easily and is very yummy. yields: about 30 large-ish cupcakes
Oreo cookie icing
4 cups icing sugar
1 cup shortening or lard or whatever. you could use butter, but shortening makes it taste more like oreos.
pinch of salt (cuts the sweetness a bit)
1/2 package of crushed oreos (I used my food processor so it would go through my piping bag)
1 1/2 -3 tablespoons of rice milk (or whatever milk or cream you want). Start with the smaller amount of milk and add until you have the right consistency.
These came out really well, that's the first time I tried to add oreos to the icing. I served with a mini Oreo on top (cute) and for the kids at the party I put a cupcake in the back of a cheap plastic dump truck. It looked great and the kids loved it!
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