Birthday!

Ok, you got me!  I'm a sucker for birthdays.  And even though I'm getting older each year, I still enjoy getting to be queen for the day.  I do have one big demand about my birthday, and yes it's selfish.  But each year I tell Phil that I just need a gift, a little something to open.  I'm such a kid, but I love unwrapping paper and finding a little treasure nestled amongst some tissue paper.  It's like a little reflection of the giver knowing you well enough to get you a little something that just makes you want to squeal, or as in my case actually do.

 Usually a few weeks before the big event, I'll start dropping Phil hints over what I want.  Well, not really hints, more like verbal requests.  Last year it went like this "I sure hope that I get a food processor for my birthday, I really miss having one!"  The sneaky side sounded off to the kids "If grandma asks you what I want, tell her a food processor."  Pretty much there isn't ever any doubt of what I am hoping to get.

This year was different though.  No big ticket kitchen gadgets to dream upon (although Abi was really rooting for a waffle iron!), in fact I was rather silent about my birthday this year.  When family asked me what I wanted I said "I dunno, just to be loved I guess"


Since I hadn't made any requests, Phil asked me to get him a list of ideas.  I found some links to some fun things that I could enjoy, but I'm happy to say that I didn't any of those.  My honey knows me well, so he got me something that I wouldn't have ever got for myself.  A windowsill herb kit.  Supposedly foolproof, so we'll see about that!  I have black thumbs, and at this point it seems that the only things I can grow are children.  But I am hopeful.

The day was great, and I felt so loved.  I started off by treating myself to something 'not so healthy' for breakfast--chocolate chip scones.  I've never had a scone before, but the author mentioned that people call them flat muffins.  I figured that since I enjoy muffins, I'd probably be ok with a scone.  The sprinkling of sugar crystals really made it feel naughty.

My bestie called me to wish me happy birthday, which was great because even though we are best friends we usually forget until the day after, or sometimes later!  Then another dear friend came for part of the day, and we (ok, mostly she) sewed slings.  Wesley was in heaven getting to ride in the new sling, and I love how sophisticated it feels have the silver threads running throughout the material.  As she was leaving my next friend was coming, whom I haven't seen in weeks even though we live just minutes apart.

Phil came home early and made most of dinner.  Total relief since I had already cooked breakfast and lunch from scratch I wasn't feeling very motivated to make enchiladas, which at our house are more of a labor of love than convenience.

A surprise party from Phil's mom and sister was a blast, and DQ's ice cream cakes are still as tasty as last year.  Ending the day was a dance off between Phil and I while trying the Michael Jackson Experience Wii game that Phil rented special for the day.  I'd like to say that I won, but we declared it a tie after sweating and laughing it out for nearly an hour.

It was a great birthday.  Actually it's been more of a birthweek with a surprise celebration with my parents when they were here on Tuesday (with a cake that literally had 2inches of frosting around the edges!), and a belated call from my Army brother this morning.  So I got my wish, not only did I get loved upon, but I was downright spoiled!

Thanks everyone for making it such a great birthday!

Mommy doubt moment

Lately I've been having these 'moments'.  Not sure if the summer just melted my brain or what.  But I have moments where I wonder if what I'm doing with my life is enough.  Don't get me wrong, I love staying at home with my children and watching them grow up.  But these moments when I'm around other adults who have something other than babies to talk about leaves me floundering in my doubts.  I like to think of myself as a rational intellectual adult.  So when I hear these other people talking on subjects other than diapers, milk, and new baby feats, I feel left out.  Like I don't have anything to add or contribute.

These are the moments that call for self inflection.  So I ask myself, what are my passions?
babies
cooking
books

Ok, well I already talked myself blue about my babies.  And most people aren't that interested in hearing about what 'crazy vegetarian food' I'm trying.  Books--yeah that's another bust.  I'm reading cookbooks right now, I know, what a nerd right?!

Alriiiiight, maybe I could try chatting about my hobbies
baking
sewing
reading

Hmm, baking and reading, think I covered that in the previous paragraph's inflection.  Ok, so what am I doing in my sewing hobby.  Oh, that's right.  Wesley's quilt that I haven't touched since summer began.  Aaaand the stellar idea of a denim patchwork curtain that I quit because I couldn't handle the randomness of patchworking.  We'll just chalk that one up 'first born anal retentive perfectionistic girl' tendencies.

I guess there's always politics, (which I could care less for) or the weather (I'm the indoor love my kitchen and couch kinda girl) right?!

Singing Sweetly

The last half of the week Phil was gone sponsoring a youth group trip.  Rather than be stuck at home as a single mom of three, I packed up the kids and galavanted across central Nebraska visiting friends.  I went with the intentions of refreshing myself in their company, but also gained some insights with their relationships regarding their children.  I really needed that as Abi and I have a very tumultuous relationship.  We are both stubborn passionate firstborns, and more opposite than alike.  So I was glad for these tidbits that my friends passed to me unbeknownst to them.

R is my more seasoned parent friend.  She has children ages 16 on down to 13 months.  I watched her talk to her girl the same age as Abi.  Just talk.  I really liked that.  R talked to her girl like an adult, not like the annoying kid that she was being at the moment (or in moments past).  Like an adult, respectful and curtious, even though the girl didn't deserve to be talked to so nicely (or so I thought!  Ahh, how much I have to learn!)  Lesson gleaned--talk to Abi like you would anyone else, even in the midst of her whining complaining fits.

D and I have kids the same ages.  She showed me that age 3 can still be your baby girl.  I realized that maybe I am pushing my kids to be independent quicker than they might want or need.  After some quick reflecting I saw that shortly after the age of two I went from being the very attached parent to a more 'you are a big kid now you don't need me as much parent'.  As I watch Abi struggle through emotional tirades I am wondering if maybe she just needs a good hug.  She is so bright and I have pushed her along, but perhaps a bit too hard...

C is younger than I but she showed me that it's ok to snuggle with your older kids.  Not just a sit on the couch with your arm around the shoulders, but a lay in my arms while I hold you snuggle.  When I saw her do this I realized how often I long to just sit next to my mom with my head on her shoulder and chat, and I'm almost 29.  How much more these little people must want some seriously snuggly snuggles out of me.

This morning in my home church, Abi and I were standing next to each other singing.  When all of the sudden she wrapped her arms around my waist, laid her head upon my chest and looked up at me.  And we sang ' a thousand hallelujahs' together.  I looked into her wide innocent blue eyes, saw her freckled nose, and glowing face as she sang her heart out to God, and I had to choke back the tears.  This was my little girl singing sweetly to me just as much as to her Maker.  And in that moment God strengthened me, and showed me that I can do it.  I can be the mom for her that I want to be and that she needs me to be.

By His strength and glory alone.  Let it be Father, let it be.

Yellow Gold

I love Phil's grandparents!  They are the spunkiest 80-something-year olds I have ever met.  They travel all over America visiting family and casinos.  Grandpa can about knock you over when he 'pats' you on the back.  Grandma cooks, cans, and is still trying out new recipes for our delight.  What really blows me away is the size of their garden.  It's probably about the size of an average ranch house.  Melons, potatoes, and sweet corn are a guarantee.  This year we were finally able to help put up sweet corn.

I hadn't put up sweet corn since I was a kid.  I gotta admit I was a bit nervous, because when I was a kid it was a ton of work.  My brother and sister and I would go out with grandpa to the fields and pick the corn.  Then we'd come back and shuck it, carry over to grandma's kitchen and she'd wash it in the dishwasher.  After it was sanitized we'd start cutting the corn off of the cob.  When I was younger grandma used to can the corn, but as she aged my grandpa bought an extra deep freeze and we put it in baggies instead.  This process took the whole day (or at least that's how I remember it!), and the thought of going into the fields and getting corn rash and having sore fingers from all the cutting wasn't very pleasant.

We pulled up at grandma and grandpa's shortly after 8am (on a saturday this was a pretty impressive feat for Phil and Lizzi!).  All the cousins were in the back of the truck shucking the corn.  I breathed out a sigh of relief (no impending corn rash woohoo!) and dug in.  Shucking is my favorite part of putting up corn.  It's like Christmas, you never know what you're going to 'open'.  And being the competitive first born that I am, I like the challenge of getting all the corn silks off in one fell swoop.  Oh yeah, and getting the last cob to shuck was a big deal as a kid.  Not so much for Phil's family apparently!  People just walked away when I announced that I had grabbed the last ear.  Strange this family...

Lunch was great, boiled sweet corn paired with some lasagna (veggie for me, thanks mom!), garlic toast, and oriental salad.  Buckets were set out in the middle of the crowd for people to chuck the cobs in, a fun family tradition I guess.  

With 22 of us pitching in, the work only took about 3 hrs, and 70 qt bags filled up with yellow gold.  And we got to bring home 18 of those bags.  Oh yeah!

 

Cutting the corn off using grandpa's cob holding device

mom and her sisters cleaning corn

We brought my brother Taylor along.  He didn't remember putting up corn as a kid.  Doubt he'll forget it now!