The Brain is a Curious Thing or The Morning We Called 911

Wednesday morning started like any other morning. Or so I thought.  About 10 minutes after getting out of bed my vision became blurry, I was dizzy, and as I tried to say any words they wouldn't come. My husband was in the shower and I had to communicate my distress to him so I tried the best I could to say something and my failed attempts at communicating anything of significance alarmed my husband. I layed back in bed and Husband called 911.  The thoughts of a possible stroke ran though both of our minds. I kept trying to tell Husband about the alarm in the house but I could only call it the "thing" and he had to turn it off.  The things we think of in crisis, right?

The paramedics came bounding in rather quickly and started asking me questions.  I started crying because I knew the answers to their questions but could not actually say the words to answer them. For example, they asked if I knew where I was.  I did.  I knew that I was in my house but I could NOT say the word house.  However, I COULD say the numbers in my address.  Go figure.  My language started to come back to me after awhile as the paramedics checked to see if I was currently having a stroke or heart attack.  I passed their tests but they gave me the option of either taking a ride in an ambulance to the ER or get in to my primary as soon as possible.  I opted for the later.

My children were not scared during this time but found it fascinating that the fire department was in our house.  The girls informed them that our neighbor was a firefighter which one of the men tending to me actually knew.  They took the girls out into the truck let them climb around and let the siren go once.  If our neighbors were hoping to enjoy sleeping in over Spring Break that was the morning it was NOT going to happen.  HA!

I was able to get in to see a nurse practitioner at Mayo Clinic (where my primary doctor is) and given orders for a complete blood work panel and an MRI of my head and neck that was completed on Thursday evening.  This morning (Friday) I was called and told that everything came back clear but they are going to send my MRI and reports over to the neurology department for a consult.

So, what does all this mean?  Well, we know that I didn't have a stroke.  I could have had a TIA (read about that here) or a possible seizure.  Yes, you can have a seizure and be fully conscious. Now we wait to hear more from the doctors and hope that the symptoms do not occur again.  I am so thankful for my husband who did not hesitate because all of my physical symptoms were that of a stroke, while rare in thirty-six year olds, are not unheard of.  I was pretty worn out after everything and I had a pretty normal day today but still tired.  It's hard to fully know if small things I experience are connected to my episode or not.  I am trying to be "normal" but also observant of what is happening with my body.

Cherished Conversations | Kindness from Wisdom

Today, when compared to other days, was an odd day for us.

We woke up much earlier than normal and took Daddy to the airport.  Saying good-bye is always hard but for Miss L it is the most difficult.  She's sensitive and she is so very attached to her daddy.  It's hard when he is gone even just for a few days.  It takes her awhile to recover.

We eat breakfast later than normal on these early morning adventures to the airport because we come back to a bagel shop near our house which is a treat for the girls and a good distraction.

As we were talking, laughing, and eating an older gentleman entered the door behind us.  I noticed Miss S wave to someone as did Miss A.  The gentleman came over and and said, "It's so nice when young ones want to engage with people rather than hide behind mama."  Let me clarify, my girls have those "hide behind mama" moments often but today they were feeling especially social.  He talked to each one of the girls and even listened to Miss S as she babbled a few coherent words and then a whole bunch of nonsense even though it was quite apparent it all made perfect sense to her.

Next, Miss L dove in and told him all about school and how she is finishing kindergarten and looking forward to first grade.  He made some comment to her that didn't quite apply to our homeschool environment (I don't remember what it was) and Miss L just said, "Oh, I'm homeschooled."  Without missing a beat or looking shocked he said, "Well, you'll probably get a better education that way!" and continued to talk to the girls about school and a whole host of other things.

I was floored.  I was NOT expecting that response at all.  BUT I was thankful for it.  People generally look at me like I have horns growing out of my head when I tell them we homeschool.  Others have a few curious questions and move on.  Few have ever had this kind of response unless they homeschool as well.

He was a kind man.  His kindness had an impact not only on my children but also on me.  I'm not trying to put down public schools but trying to remember the kindness of people that the Lord places in my path because it is easy to focus on the harsh words from people... I want to remember the kind words, too.

So, thank you, dear gentleman... you made this mama's hard morning a little easier.

Small Things | His Watch

It's Christmas eve.

We returned home from a family service with Husband's parents, dinner, and looking at lights.  Our hearts are light...but we are tired.  We are thankful all is ready for the morning.

Except the stockings.

I quickly located them in a bag.  I counted out seven big boot sacks.  I mention quickly that I am glad I didn't find my dad's thinking it was in a bag in another room.

Then his fell out onto the chair.  I notice it has some heft to it.  I reach in my arm recognizes the small flags that veteran organizations brought to him in hospice.  My hand seizes something metal and a wave of emotion and shock pulsate through my body.  I look at Husband and exclaim, "His watch!" and the fount of tears comes forth.  I cannot control it.  My girls watch in wonder as I hold the watch tight and Husband holds me tighter.  My oldest begins to cry, too.  Later my middle one says, "I'm gunna give you some love, okay?"  Sweet girls.

My dad was kind of obsessed with his watch.  He pretty much went batty when he didn't have it.  It was one of the first things he requested to have when he left the hospital.  However, he only wore it for a time while in hospice because it became too big for him.  However, it was always on his bedside or he would have it in his lap.

Oddly, the watch is still keeping time and the day is still correct.  The date is off but I think that came from the months with only 30 days and my dad would have to change it to the first when it read 31.

While the discovery was quite emotional...it was quite providential. Healing.  Welcome.

Knock, Knock....Housekeeping!

Once upon a time, a long long time ago... okay, okay... the summer of 1999 (yikes! 14 years ago!) I worked in our nation's first national park, Yellowstone.  It was nothing as exciting as being a park ranger but rather I was there to clean rooms at Old Faithful Inn as part of a summer project with Campus Crusade for Christ (now Cru.)  It was a summer that impacted my life in various ways and apparently is still bearing fruit in other areas still today.

You see, one becomes very familiar with the details and rigors of housekeeping when work is done in one of the busiest hotels in the nation over the summer months.  While I was not the fastest room cleaner in the est I found an appreciation for those who do it day in and day out for years on end.  Not just for the summer, you see.  The solitary work about drove me mad and so management had mercy on me and when they could they moved me into a position of picking up buffalo poop grounds keeping and cleaning public spaces.  I was thankful to be around more people and I LOVED that job.  No, really.

Today I find myself nearing the end of a two month stay at a hotel.  I am always reminded that it is well worth knowing the names of the people around you.  Especially in the service arena.  I'm pretty sure I know everyone who works here from management, to housekeeping, to food service.  They work hard.

However, I will say that our relationships with those in housekeeping are by far the most significant.  We see them just about everyday.  My kids run down the halls in little-girl-screeching-delight when they see Mrs I and Mrs E, the women who run the housekeeping department.  The day that I told Mrs. I  that I had worked in housekeeping for a time she was surprised and asked all sorts of questions.  We talked about the hard work of it all and the difference in how things work here versus what I experienced.  It seemed like that sealed our relationship.  Well, that and the fact that my girls easily endear themselves to almost anyone. HA!  We have had conversations about family, life, church, and other things. We have made great friends here and while we are excited to go home we are sad to leave the people that we have met here.

My girls have this notion that the housekeeping crew will just come home with us.  Yes, I wish.  HA!  We'll take food service with us as well.  My girls even pretend clean after housekeeping leaves and when we come back to the room they do the famous "knock, knock! Housekeeping!" at the the door and then burst into quiet giggles.  If anything it has been a social education for my girls and I think they are doing fabulously.

Fourteen years ago I wondered how on earth my being a housekeeper would have any sort of impact or be of any sort of significance.  I merely thought it was a vehicle to do ministry at that time.  Nope, apparently there would be another reason that would not be fully realized until 14 years later.  I wonder what that summer still has in store for me?

Nature Walks

Miss A's Collection

 So, it's hot in Phoenix during the summer.  Right.  Everyone knows that.  You would know then that getting the motivation to go for a fun little walk to explore is utterly...impossible.

However, the last two months or so here in San Diego has afforded us the opportunity to still go on walks around our hotel and other places in the city.  I never realized until this time how much Miss A loves to be outside exploring and looking at every little thing.  She has sharp eyes and finds the oddest things.  Sticks, pine cones, snail shells, acorns, berries, etc.  She loves it.  I also noticed if she is having a hard day if you give her about fifteen minutes to walk around outside, run, and explore she is a much happier person.  Miss L could go either way and she is too finicky to start picking everything up.  It's funny to see their personality differences coming out more.

I recently posted this on Facebook:

"Abby is my outdoor explorer. Today's short expedition yielded acorns to add to her collection of pine cones, snail shells, and leaves."

A friend (Mr. Y) then posted later, "I knew a guy like that..."  Here he was referring to my dad, Miss A's Grandpa T.  I replied, "...maybe that would explain their special bond..."  To which he said, "Amen."

The next morning Miss A was playing with some linking cubes that we use for math.  She put them together and told her daddy, "I'm going out to shoot some birds!"  Yes, a deep bond indeed.  My husband and I just looked at each other in light of previous conversations about Miss A and my dad and busted up laughing. (For those that don't know my dad he was an AVID hunter all of his days.  Even if he didn't get anything he would just say, "Well, I just took my rifle out for a walk.")

Needless to say, I need to work on getting us all out of the house more to places where we can all explore and pick up rocks.  Thankfully, the winter in Phoenix is a perfect time to be doing this.

Today he would have been 73...

I probably won't write something every birthday that rolls around.  But it's the first one.  It seems significant.  At this point last year we had no idea that Papa was sick.  He was in a little pain but we chalked it up to his recent back surgery that was taking longer to recover from than we thought it would.  Over this weekend last year we took the girls to a pumpkin patch north of our home a bit. My dad told   Its to go and have fun and that we would celebrate when we all got home.  I think he secretly wanted the house to himself for a couple of days because he knew that we would be spending the night up north, too.

This year I am missing him.  He used to want to ignore his birthday but I didn't.  I love birthdays.  I don't go all out but I like doing at least something.  This year we mark the day in our hearts, tears are shed, and we take another step forward.

Miss A and I went out to his grave last week to put some flowers. Fall, I think, was his favorite season.  Mostly because it then signified in his mind hunting season.  Because really, let's face it, that was his favorite season. HA!  Miss A helped me clear off his marker and while I cried she was quiet and as we left she just held my hand.  Then in her innocence she asked if she could pick some flowers.  I asked her where she wanted to pick flowers.  She pointed at all the other markers with flowers. It helped to lighten the mood.  Miss A and my dad had a special bond.  Little things that she still remembers that he would do for her at the breakfast table.  When my dad was in hospice she would climb up on his bed and cuddle with him.

Hotel Memories

Obviously things happen for a reason and in just the right season.  My husband has been assigned to work in California for some undetermined amount of time and we are fortunate enough to be here together as a family.  As my husband had been working out here prior to all of us joining him he found a hotel just across the street from his work site.  He told me later that he was pretty sure it was the place we had stayed with my dad when we all went to California in 2009.  Our minds stretched for that trip... we have had two more babies since then... enough said.  The mind and its memories blur.

However, as soon as we pulled off the highway onto our street the memories came flooding back.  There stood the Olive Garden that we had managed a meal with a nine-month-old Miss L.  She made a mess and I am sure she had a fit.  Maybe she had done okay.  I just remember the mess.  The hotel itself was hard to remember... that is until I stepped out back to see Matt and the two older girls swimming.  I had to steady myself and keep composure.  Memories flooded back.  We had taken Miss L swimming a couple of times in the pool here after botched attempts at the beach with a baby.  My dad never got in but he watched, took pictures, and wrapped Baby L up in a towel and kept her warm.  I could see the picture in my minds eye... and I found it... the picture above.

We came out here Labor Day weekend of 2009.  My dad had just moved from New Mexico to Arizona and was living with us for a time until he found his own place.  We persuaded him out come to California with us.  An adventure because California was never on his list of top places to vacation.  We had fun... and we learned a lot about travelling on Labor Day Weekend or just travelling with a little one in general.

It's hard to think that then we only had three more years left with him.  But they were good years.  I am thankful that the Lord brought us here at this time to let me remember these things.  And today I swam in that same pool with Miss L who can now basically swim on her own... and her two sisters.  I could almost see my dad standing in the same spot laughing and shaking his head at the antics of my girls.

Thank you, Jesus, for this time right now.

Not Missing Grandpa

This evening Husband and I were having a conversation at the dinner table and my papa came up in conversation.  Tears rolled down my face and I had to explain to the girls that I was not upset but the tears were because I missed Grandpa T.  More tears came and Miss A exclaims, "Your eyes are dripping!"  We all laughed.

I then asked Miss L if she missed Grandpa T and she said very simply, "No."  I told her that was okay.  But what she said next grabbed me...

"I can see his face.  And he called me on my hand phone yesterday.  But I was busy and couldn't answer it."

She doesn't miss him because in some way she has created her own connection back to him.

Later Miss A prayed on her own thanking Jesus that Grandpa T was with him and that he felt all better now.

I miss my dad very much.  The reality of what each day for the rest of this marks in relation to last year is painful.  Most days I am doing really well and other days the emotions hit me like a truck.  But I still want to remember these little things.

Proud Mama | Church & Peers

While it's never good that a child is disobedient there is a process of training.  This last Sunday we got to see a glimpse into what is happening in Miss L's heart.

Miss L and her sister lost the privilege to go to the playground at church (they call it the "park") because their behavior was not, shall we say, sweet.  We understand their ages and have grace for that but this was a bit nutty.  We were staying later at church this particular Sunday for a meeting so off the two older ones went to a catechism class.  At the end of their class Miss L came to find me with tears in her eyes asking if she could now go to the playground.  Being Mom I wanted to find out the root of her tears.  She first said nothing and couldn't quite verbalize all that was going on.  I found her teachers and this is what they told me,

"She did really well in class and had no problems.  When we let the other kids out she just watched them and started to cry.  We thought maybe she had hurt herself but she just said she needed to go ask her mom."

I held back the tears.

She knew and she obeyed.

Sweet Miss L knew she was not supposed to go to the playground.  At just over four and a half years old she resisted the urge as she saw ALL the other kids run outside and start playing.  She came to find us to ask permission if she could now join her friends.  We praised her for making a good decision and for coming to ask us first... and of course for doing well in class.

We let her go play... And Miss A, too.

I think Miss L somehow had held Miss A back.  What a good big sister.  I was so, so proud of Miss L on this day.

I write this not to boast but to remember the glimpses of my girls "getting it."  I write mostly for us.  But be encouraged... the seeds you sow will start to grow.  It's beautiful.

Bedtime Prayers

During bedtime prayers each girl takes a turn praying for whatever they feel led to pray for and it's also a time of thankfulness.  For the last several months Miss A has diligently given thanks for Grandpa T (my dad) -- many times that is all she would say.  Tonight was the first time that she didn't do that.  I knew it would come but I didn't think it would be as sad as it is.  She may pick it up again but she may not.  I know that Miss L is probably the only one who will remember him but who knows.  I hope that they will always know how much my dad loved them and what joy they all brought to him.

Miss A used to always crawl up into Grandpa T's lap even before he was sick.  She did it without prompting the few times that we took them to see him while he was in hospice.  She would talk about how she laid with Grandpa while he was sick.  Sweet girl.

Potty Tranining

What can I say?  It's where we are right now.  Monday starts the journey for Miss A to a diaper free world. It should be... messy.  Fun.  Exciting.  Difficult.  Frustrating.  Rewarding.

I am looking forward to one less diaper to change for sure!

Minivan Musings

I always wanted a minivan.  Okay, maybe not while I was in college.  However, when I first drove a minivan for a conference in Florida I was hooked.  Although, I knew that I needed more of a reason to actually have one other than a couple of conferences a year.

Fast-forward a few years and I am married with kids.  I figured someday we would have a minivan but I thought that day would be when we were expecting child #3 as we had a SUV that worked well at the time.  Not too long after we had Miss A we got our van.  A gem of a find on Craigslist.  Needless to say, I was thrilled!  Only two kiddos and we had our van.  It would be a few months later we would find out that Miss S was on her way.  HA!

Anyway, the story of how we got our van and why is not the reason for this post.  One thing I noticed on the road is that minivan drivers sometimes were going super fast. (Or sometimes super slow)  But I would notice them fly by me at times (and I was going a bit over the limit...ahem).  I would get so uppity because they had their kids in there and they were flying by like a bat out of... well.. you know.  Compromising safety, blah, blah... like those in minivans were held to some other standard.

Well, I think I know why minivans go speeding by....

...the kids are screaming and they are just trying to get home as fast as they can because whining and crying in a car sounds about 10 decibels louder than it actually is.

...there is a preschool aged child that has frantically notified her mother that she needs to go to the bathroom and WILL NOT use a public bathroom.  She will, however, relieve herself in her car seat should you not get home fast enough.

...there is a woman in the back about to give birth.

Now, I may or may not know about one or all of these things.  Ha!  I am sure some are just driving like crazy because...well... they are.  However, these have been my musings as of late as I drove back and forth to the hospital to see Miss S.

It made me laugh.

Do you have minivan musings??

Meal Ministry

If you have never needed the blessings of a ministry through meals I say two things... a) blessings to you and b) boy, are you missing out!

However, I will have to say accepting meals from people can be a very difficult thing.  I remember while I was still single and living on my own I had been pretty sick.  A friend that lived two apartments down for me offered to make a meal for me.  In my pride, I thanked her but turned her down knowing full well that I would probably have to go pick something up somewhere because I was not up to cooking for myself.  I met with my mentor very briefly that afternoon and she basically told me that I needed to let people be generous and let them serve.  She challenged me to go back to this friend and accept the meal.  Talk about a killing of pride.  It was a good lesson.  I was blessed by my friend being so gracious and generous.  Plus, I ate a really good meal!

Fast forward to 2008 when Miss L arrived early in December of that year.  Our church at the time blessed us with an abundance of meals even though we lived almost an hour away from where most people lived.  They got creative and it was a blessing for sure.  When Miss A arrived in 2010 we were in a bit of transition but sweet friends put together meals and we were well taken care of during that time.  When Miss S arrived our church really stepped it up a notch with the meals because we were running back and forth to the hospital with her in the NICU.  And even just this week with Miss S in the hospital I find my fridge full of food because of the abundant generosity of the people around us.

However, it is a dying to self to ask for help... to ask for meals... to ask for help cleaning your home...to ask.    Why is it so hard for us to ask?  A former pastor once told me to not ask for help is denying someone the opportunity to learn how to serve others. (He said it much more elegantly)  It was a profound thought.  We don't know how to serve the body of Christ (or others) because people are too prideful to ask or they think that people are not able or will not help.  The fact is that people are willing to help.  Cheerfully!  More than one could probably ever imagine at that.

All of this came flooding back when Pastor H was visiting us in the hospital and asked if the church family could do anything else for us.  I was tempted to just suck it up and figure it out.  But there was an offer of help and this was the area I needed the most help (because grandparents were taking care of kids during the day) all I had to do was...ask...

So, I did.  Boy, were we blessed!

Needless to say, I won't be posting a meal plan this week because we have so much food left over and I still have a couple of from last week that will carry over to this week.

I encourage you to ASK for help when you need it.  When a baby comes... when a loved one passes... surgery...people are willing wanting to help.  While we as a body also need to be on the look out for areas to help people we also need to die to self and kill our pride and ask for help, too.

Miss L's 3rd Birthday

I had grand plans for the weekend of Miss L's birthday.  On Saturday, we were going to the mall to see one of her friends from church play some Christmas music in the with her dad. Then that evening we would head to the train park and let her ride the train through the light display.  Sunday, we would go to church and have a light lunch with family.  Then after naps we would do Miss L's favorite meal of chicken nuggets, mac & cheese, and broccoli salad (she like the dried cranberries).  The evening of celebration would be concluded with cake and presents.

Yeah.  None of that happened.  And the few things that did happen were not how we originally thought they would go.  HA!

Obviously, I had a baby that weekend instead.

Plan B.

Unfortunately, no one made it to church.  The whole family had a light lunch and cake.  More than ever I was glad that we ordered a cake rather than me trying to make one.  Miss L was delighted with Angelina Ballerina.  Thankfully, Miss L cannot read right now or she would have noticed that her name was misspelled on the side of the cake.  Two L's instead of one.  Oh well.  It still was yummy!  Then after all the excitement the girls took naps.

After naps everyone came down to the hospital.  This is when the Miss L and Miss A got their first glimpse of Miss S.  Then we headed down to my hospital room to really party it up and open Miss L's presents.  It was a fun time.  The nurses got a kick out of my little caravan.  Miss L told them about her sister and that it was her birthday.  It was pretty cute.  Miss L thought my bed was pretty fun and quickly discovered that the back of my bed produced presents.  Once we were done opening them she kept looking back there to see if more had magically appeared.

After all was said an done it was getting close to dinner time.  Honestly is was hard to see everyone leave that evening.  My oldest was turning three and my youngest had just entered the world.  It was a little surreal.  I think my heart was just ready for us all to be together under one roof.

I think it's a birthday party that I will definitely remember.

This Is The Day

When you saw the title did the song go running through your head?

Several months ago when this song would be stuck in my head because we generally sing it at the preschool co-op that we attend it would drive me utterly bananas. BA.NA.NAS.  Miss L generally wants to sing it and Miss A grasps that when we sing this song we clap along.  To say the least, it is sung often around here.  I know that it is Scriptural and all...  but the repetition was wearing on me.  I think the Lord knew that I would need the repetition...

...to learn something.

The song now has a deep and sentimental meaning to me.  The Lord used the preschool song to minister to my heart during a time when I needed to be reminded that He was really in control.

When I was finally able to hold Miss S for the first time in the NICU the nurse said to make sure to talk to her about whatever or to sing to her.  We like to sing around here.  My husband is a wonderful singer... I, on the other hand, have a hard time carrying a tune on a silver plate.  But that doesn't generally stop me and I do have my moments of actually singing well.  Anyway.  Sing?  The first thing that came to mind was, This is the Day.  So, I started singing it to her and realized the deep theology (and extravagant LOVE) that was being imparted to me at that moment.  I choked through the rest of the words as I realized my own personal struggles with the current situation this was indeed the day that the Lord had made, had given to me, and I would rejoice in Him, that my baby was alive... I would choose to be glad.

That became our mantra of sorts.  I sang that song each morning that I came in to see Miss S and it really helped me to gain perspective on the day.  Our pastor came to visit one afternoon and I shared with him how the Lord had used this simple song to show Himself to me.  It felt childish in some way but so very significant in another.  You know... I was okay with that.

I realized the other day that I had stopped singing this song to Miss S when we got home.  I shall have to remedy that.

Sisterly Love

I am working on the birth story of Miss S -- it's taking me a little longer than I expected.  I may post in two parts.  We will see.  However, there are other parts of Miss S's (is that right?) arrival that I also wanted to make sure that I wrote down somewhere.

For those that don't know the story, here's a spoiler... Miss S had to spend 5 days in the NICU.  No big deal in the grand scheme of things.  A big deal when you are in the midst of it all.

Miss S arrived the day before Miss L's third birthday.  It kind of threw a wrench in some plans but what can you do?  (There will be a separate post on Miss L's birthday).  Anyway, we had been prepared mentally that the girls would not be able to come and see Miss S in the hospital or even me for that matter.  However, much to our sweet surprise not only were they able to come and see me they were also able to go see Miss S as long as they had not been sick in the last two weeks and did not currently have a fever.  We were good to go!!

Of course, our girls provided some sweet moments when they saw Miss S for the first time.  We were thankful at this point that Miss S had been taken off the CPAP machine that was helping her breathe and force her lungs to work a bit better.  It may have been too scary for them prior to that.

Miss L was excited to see Miss S and was excited to finally see her new sister.  However, when the nurse came in the room (and to anyone she would see after that) she informed her that her sister "is in a box."  It was pretty funny how matter-of-fact she was about Miss S living in a box.  I think she thought that she would always be in that box.

We were never sure how much Miss A understood the whole situation or that this baby would be coming home with us.  When she first saw Miss S she said, "Baby!"  Sweet girl.  She looked and kept saying, "Baby!"  Then finally she put her hand on the "box" and gave Miss S a kiss through the plastic.  It was the sweetest thing ever.

A Moment to Cherish

I would normally put this under bright spots... but I had to get it down before I forgot about it.

I stepped out of the living room for just a minute.  When I returned I find Miss L and Miss A looking through Green Eggs and Ham.  However, Miss L has her arms around Miss A and I hear her say to Miss A,

"My best friend."

How To: Miss A's Owl Cake

Okay, so a few people have asked for a more step by step "tutorial" on how I made this cake.  Because I didn't take pictures for each step you will have to do your best to imagine.  If you have specific questions feel free to e-mail or comment.

Upfront, this is a small cake.  I used a 6-inch cake pan that I got at a craft store.  Yes, it's small.  I used a butter cream frosting and colored it as needed with Wilton cake colors -- far superior than regular food coloring.  Feel free to use whatever frosting you feel the need to use.  Butter cream warms up pretty fast and will lose it's ability to hold form as it warms up in the pastry bag you are piping with.  So, work quickly and take a break to refrigerate your frosting as needed.

• With my cake on a plate, I crumb coated the cake.  I need to look into what this really entails but my version was just adding a thin layer of white icing on the whole cake.  It gave me a nice clean surface to work on.
• Then I created the outline for the bird face in the crumb coat.  For the large part of the eye I used a glass tumbler from our cabinet.  For the black part of the eyes I used the alcohol measuring cup -- ahem -- you know it's small and it measures out a pour, etc.  Then I drew the rest out with a toothpick.  When I was satisfied with my template I put it in the freezer for about 15-20 minutes.
• While the cake was in the freezer I set aside some of the white frosting I made for the owl's eyes.  With the rest I colored to my desired blue color.  When the timer went off I pulled the cake from the freezer and iced the side and the smooth blue areas of the cake.  I have yet to master the technique of an ultra-smooth cake.  Someday.  It was satisfactory for me and gave the owl a little texture.  HA!  Back in he freezer.
• During this break I filled my pastry bag and pick my decorating tip.  For the life of me I don't remember which number I used.  Basically, just pick what kind of texture you want and go with it.  I let the frosting firm up a bit in the fridge and all was good to go when the timer went off.  I "stippled" in the feather area.  Freezer.
• Fill in the white of the eyes even though they are already white.  It covers the crumb coat and makes everything level.  I just used a medium sized piping tip (it's just round if you are wondering about that.)  Still working on my technique here.  Freezer.
• Make the back icing.  Fill in eyes and eyebrows.  I used a yellow cake gel I had on hand for the nose and filled that in pretty fast.  You can use the gel (it comes in primary colors in the baking section of your local grocery/market) or make some yellow frosting.  I didn't have yellow coloring so this was super handy.

That's basically it.  The freezing, for me, helped keep the shape of everything and prevented any of the colors from bleeding into each other.

If I missed something let me know and I will add that into this "tutorial."

Miss A's 1st Birthday!

ARGH!

I realized last night as I was posting what seemed like a gazillion photos to Flickr (with still many more to go from two other cameras!) I realized that I never posted about Miss A's birthday cake.  What?!?!?  Seriously, we are about a month and a half out from her birthday.  Where does the time go?

I found this owl cake on Pinterest and immediately fell in love with it.  I realized later I liked how "clean" it was which was created with fondant.  However, I have never really worked with fondant nor did I think that it would be ideal for a cake that a freshly minted one-year-old would tear into.  So, I opted to just adapt from there.

To be honest I almost scraped the whole idea and just go for decorating the cake like a cupcake.  Sigh.  I finally just sucked it up and went for it.  I like using butter cream frosting but it is not so stable when it warms up.  So, I went in stages with this cake and stuck it in the freezer for about 20 minutes between each step so the frosting would firm up.  I worked fast between steps so it wouldn't "melt."  It was a winner of a plan although it took some time.  However, I was pretty tired on this particular day so lots of little breaks were a welcome addition to the day.  Well, here's my final product.  I realized I should have crossed his eyes to maybe make him look a little less Angry Birds looking.  It was hit either way, even with my oldest, Miss L.  I have to also mention that I bought a special small cake pan for this project as I didn't think Miss A needed a regular sized cake all to herself.  Baking the cake took some extra care because there aren't standard guidelines for this sized cake.  I also did up cupcakes for the rest of the family.

I still would like to work on my cake decorating skills.  Maybe when the girls are older I can take a class.  Until then it will be my random dinking around with what I remember from almost 15 years ago when I had someone teaching me.  I used to be able to make lovely drop flowers and roses.  I am not sure I would know where to start anymore.  I think I will also try working with cream cheese frosting the next time around.  Delish and maybe a bit more sturdy (as in not so "melty") for sure.

Is it worth spending so much time on my cakes just so the girls can destroy them?  Totally.  The videos of my girls tearing into their first cakes are so worth every minute.  Plus, it's a fun little challenge.  However, I think for Miss L's third birthday coming up we may be ordering a cake from the bakery as I will be not too long from my due date and wow... that sounds like a lot of work.  We will see.  Oh yes... one more picture... the cake after Miss A was done with it...

Miss A's Birth Story

I find Miss A's birth story to be quite entertaining at times.  Mostly because it all basically starts on our anniversary. Nothing says "celebration" like an OB appointment, right?  When we found out that Miss A was head down I started to cry.  It was one of the best things I had ever heard.  I so desperately wanted to try for a VBAC and my OB said as long as she was head down and I went into labor on my own (no use of labor inducing drugs, etc) then I should be fine.

The week prior to this particular appointment (36 weeks) my OB checked me and said I was at least 4.5 cm -- she said she couldn't quite give me 5cm.  She said let's see what happens over the next week and if I want I can have my membranes stripped the next week.

Fast forward to the next Thursday (37 weeks) and it's our wedding anniversary.  My dad drops me off at my appointment while Husband's parents watch Miss L.  We did it this way so that after the appointment Husband and I can go to dinner together in one car.  It's just nicer that way, you know.  I meet with the doctor and confirm that I am nearly at 5 cm but not quite and about 90% effaced.  Can you say, "ticking time bomb?"  We talk about the possibility of stripping my membranes.  Let's face it.  It's the end of August in the Valley of the Sun.  It's hot.  I'm big.  I want this baby to come on out.  I'm done.  Husband and I look at each other and say, "Sure."  The doctor stripped my membranes and off to dinner we go.  I had heard that some people could go into labor 12 hours after having this done.  Some 24 hours later.  Some it doesn't really do much of anything.  Depends on how ready you and baby are.  We didn't really know what to expect.

Husband and I enjoyed a lovely dinner at a local Italian restaurant.  We basically had the whole place to ourselves until about the last 15 minutes we were there.  It was awesome.  We had a lovely dinner and some yummy dessert.  As we were getting in the car I could tell something was happening and mentioned as much to Husband.  We arrive home in time to put Miss L to bed ourselves.  We also tell Husband's mom to go home and get things ready as we think Miss A will be arriving sometime during the night.  At this point my contractions are starting to build.  Some are enough that I need to stop talking to concentrate to get through them.  It turns out that I am in labor just three or four hours after having my membranes stripped!  Nutty.

We head to the hospital around 10:00 PM.  Longest. Ride. Ever.  The hospital we went to is a bit of a drive from our house but it's not horribly far.  I'm pretty sure it felt like we were driving to California.  However, I was thankful for an app that Husband had on his phone that we had been timing my contractions with during the evening.  It gets to the point where it is able to predict your contractions.  I liked having a few seconds to mentally prepare for the next contraction and to be able to see potentially when it would end.  It was pretty accurate!  I finally understood all the talk about how difficult and painful it is to labor laying on your back or sitting can be.  I needed to be on a ball or the best for me was kneeling on the bed "on all fours."

The nurses had a hard time keeping the monitor on me and were very supportive of me moving around.  So, every 20 minutes or so they would hold the monitors on me to get a reading and then leave me be.  I wanted to go as long as I could without medication.  I got to the point where I was just shaking through contractions and couldn't stay up.  Throw in the towel.  Show me some epidural love.  It apparently was just the right timing for me because the anesthesiologist was available almost immediately rather than the over an hour wait I had been warned about.  Ahh... relief.  I think at that point I hadn't progressed much beyond 5 cm.  Te doctor talked to me about breaking my bag of waters and seeing what would happen.  It was nice to be able to rest.  Husband was a little nervous at this point that I would stall and have to have a c-section again.  Epidurals can help but they have also been known to hinder.  I told him, "Well, we'll just have to wait and see what happens."  We went to sleep.  Weird, right?

After a couple of hours the nurse (Nurse Laura?) came in to check me.  7cm!  Yeah for progress!!  Husband was amazed.  So we kept sleeping.  Each time they checked me another centimeter progress.  Moving right along.  At sometime before 6 AM I was fully dilated and ready to push.  The doctor told the nurse to go ahead and have me start pushing and he would be there soon.  Apparently I was a better pusher than anyone anticipated because soon the nurse stepped out to call the doctor down and to hurry.  Unfortunately, there was a point where Miss A was "right there" but couldn't quite push her through.  After nearly an hour of pushing the doctor asked what I thought about an episiotomy.  "No way, Jose!" was my response.  However, he told me why he was thinking about it and after awhile I consented.  The only reason it was ultimately worth it was because Miss A came out on the next push!  YAY!!  Miss A was born at 7:09 AM (the day after our anniversary...whew!), 6lbs 9oz, and 19 inches long.

Dr. J had told me when we started that he likes to put babies right away up on the mother's chest and let the mothers clean the babies.  So, I was waiting for that.  However, when Miss A came out he just held her.  He looked up and said, "Her umbilical cord is too short to reach your chest so we have to cut it before you can hold her."  Random and funny all at the same time.

Miss A was perfectly healthy.  After some time they moved us to a "shared" room and hoped to move me to a private room later in the afternoon.  Once settled into the private room I was a bit more comfortable with everything.  The healing process from a c-section vs. successful VBAC were very different.  Each with their own pros and cons.  The details of each I won't go into here.  Some small and some significant.

The first night the nurse came in to do some measurements and other tests on Miss A.  They had to take her and that was no big deal.  When she came back she made the comment, "This is one of the strongest babies I have ever seen!  I usually weigh them on their tummies so they are not so wiggly and your baby rolled right over!"  I laughed.  Indications of what was to come?  Maybe.

Miss A started to show some signs of jaundice.  Doctors said we could go home as long as we had he blood levels checked the next day (which was a Sunday) -- we located a place that would be open on Sunday and we were discharged Saturday late afternoon.  Awesome!

We took Miss A in for a blood test and her jaundice was a bit increased.  They told us to see out regular doctor on Tuesday.  So, in we went to our regular pediatrician.  Unfortunately, by Tuesday even I could see that Miss A was a bit "yellow."  Our pediatrician was concerned and upset at the advice to wait from the other doctor.  He sent us on chase to try to get Miss A's blood levels checked.  However, it was late in the day and most places were closing up.  In the meantime our doctor went ahead and ordered a bili-blanket for Miss A to start right away (home light therapy) which was delivered to our house.  Needless to say, we didn't find a place to have her blood test that night but went in right away Wednesday morning.  We got a call back by noon that day from our doctor confirming that her levels were high and to keep using the blanket.  She had to be getting the lights except when she was nursing.  He warned that if her levels remained high the next morning then we would have to go to the hospital.  Her levels came down and we had to go in for blood tests the next three days as well as keep her in the blanket.  I was glad we could treat at home but a little scary, too.  We learned a few things for sure.

We had more nursing issues with Miss A like we did with Miss L -- to be anticipated at some level.  We hired a private lactation consultant and it made a world of difference.  I produced more milk this time around but still had many struggles and frustrations.  But it was all worth it.