What will be your marks of martyrdom?

Christ retained his marks of Crucifixion. The saints are depicted with their tools of martyrdom. Martyr means witness. This is provoked me into thinking. What will my marks of martyrdom be that my body carries to the next life. All the trials of this life, if you reach heaven, will be your path to heaven. What type of marks will you have. Every moment is a choice that could bring you closer to heaven, if you bear those challenges rather than reject them.

There will be a time in our existence before the general resurrection, when we will be intellect and will and our bodies will be on earth. How will our intellects and wills be affected by this life? How will they be formed and glorified?

I have an understanding that dementia could possibly be purgatory on earth. How that dementia bears on the intellect and on the will. It forces a person to be completely reliant on others. We know that God desires us to rely completely on him, and thus we shall when we enter into beatitude. 

The Art of Sorting Laundry

Did you know that there is an art to sorting laundry. My fellow women scoff at this, I am sure, but laundry tends to be myself expression. I have come to realize that you can not just throw piles: darks, brights, and whites. My life has become far more elaborate, and I can't not do it.

I  now have jeans, whites (washed warm), brights, whites, and yellows (washed cold), blacks, blues, and grays (washed cold), and reds, browns, and dark yellows (washed cold).

My piles and piles of laundry washed every day. Sorted and put away, almost every day. Mountains of laundry baskets and hills of socks. This is my art. Amid all the monotony and the repetition and the messes, this is where I express myself.

I never thought I would be reduced to this. I imagined being the perfect wife and house keeper and mother, with plenty of time for writing, reading, painting, sewing, and scrap booking. Let me tell you how in shape and trim I imagined I would be. The body sacrificing is the other side of the coin. I have aged more than my counterparts. My body has been stretched out. It's been trampled down. The life has nearly been sucked out of it. All of this has been for those beings I call my children.

I am not going to lie. My day to day life is pretty boring, a little lazy, and incredibly frustrating. This is not what I signed up for. So this is what I am left with: the anti-climatic and definably mundane life of a stay at home mother, who doesn't have her ducks in a row but rather a circus in tow. How is it I am so thankful for this and even think that others should join me in this pursuit?

I'm stopping right there. I didn't sign up for this, but this is better than I'd hope it would be. To be honest the frustration is somewhat fulfilling? I'm still trying to understand the life lives I am building. I am somewhat haphazardly, very carefully building, supporting, and encouraging persons. These people, are growing persons who are constantly absorbing information, and I am the manager of this incredible enterprise. My body has nurtured a number of children, growing and cradling complexities that science has yet to define! Outside of the womb I am guiding and shepherding children, teaching them how to read, and how to use the potty instead of peeing right where they stand.

So When I die these children make me immortal on this earth. That's not why I had them, but it is the plain and simple truth. They will go out into the world and change it. Each life matters and their lives have already changed the course of human history. How many people have been affected by my children in some way? It's the butterfly effect. They have changed me. They have humbled me. They have taught me that I am not the center of the world.

What's crazy is the more kids I have, the more love I give! The more love is exchanged! The more abundant is my life. I have so much more than I had 12 years ago. It is so strange to think of myself without my six crazy loud incorrigible hooligans.

It seems as though my husband an I are always brought to the brink. We come to a point we think, we can't give any more. There is nothing left. Then another life appears inside our own and then we find so much extra. The extra seems to come from nothing as if it comes just  to nurture the new life.

This is motherhood. This adventure, which will never be regretted and which will live on to the end of the world and beyond.

You know your behind on Laundry

I have been behind with the laundry since Christmas. I have finally learned something. Laundry is bigger than me. It is tougher than me. It is stronger than me. But it's still my job to fight against it.

I now have 6 kids ages 11-1. If my kids wash their own laundry this is what will happen: they will spill the detergent all over my basement. They will hang on the detergent dispenser and break it off the washing machine. They will close the door with laundry sticking out. Something bad will happen that will cost me hundreds of dollars. They will not be doing their own in the near future.

The laundry at the Bliss Farm has different stages. The laundry shoot stage. The dirty sorted stage. The clean and wet stage. The clean and dry stage. The waiting to be sorted stage. And finally the waiting to be put away stage. Anytime I catch up on one of these stages I am already light ages behind on the rest. 

I was so proud of myself for sorting and putting away four baskets of laundry in one night. Then I gathered the clothes off the floor of the bathroom after all the baths and showers where complete. I tossed the laundry down the shoot and, plop! Those clothes were practically in arms reach. The laundry was so backed up, it went up the laundry shoot. Laundry backed up two floors. Have you ever had two floors worth of laundry?

Then I went to the basement. There was a load sitting in the washer, waiting to be dried from the morning before, when I thought I was going to get ahead on all this laundry business. A clean load in the dryer wrinkling and a clean load in a basket in front of the drier. What? this is too much? Oh there is more.

This morning, I notice I only have partially filled baskets upstairs waiting to be folded and put away. I get down to my basement. There are two full hampers unsorted, sorted dirty jeans, darks, darks, brights and whites. Honestly this makes me feel like I've got this. The dirty stuff isn't climbing up the laundry shoot. Then I see it. Oh yes. Four baskets of clean laundry sitting in baskets waiting for me to bring them up stairs.

There is something to be said for knowing when your beat. Do you realize there are people out there that get paid for this? I do it, not for money but because I love my kids and my husband. That's it. Seems like a lousy ending, but I can't think of any other way to end this.

How to Not Freak Out When Eating with Your Kids

How not to freak our when eating with your kids:

Do not insist your children eat their vegetables.

Encourage them to eat them. Say, "My child, I love you. Eating vegetables is so good for you. Please, eat your salad, because I want you to grow big and strong and healthy." They will respond by smiling and saying, "I love you, Mama! I know you want me to be healthy, and I want to be healthy too. I will eat my salad."

Never flat out say, "Finish your salad, then you make have more chicken," because saying this causes confrontation. If you choose confrontation, your child will respond like this, "No," or he might say, "OK," and then get chicken despite your confrontational order. You will not have peace. And you will most likely loose your cool. 

If you make the mistake of saying, "Eat your salad." Keep calm! You can fix this. After your child responds, regardless of his answer, say what you should have said initially. Reminding your child of your love and desire for their well being, will encourage positive thoughts, and he will know he has the choice of eating vegetables or not, thus empowering him to make the best choice for him.

Let us play through the worst case scenario. You said, "Eat your salad." He said, "No." You remind him of love and he still does not eat salad, which is highly unlikely, because children are rational beings who can recognize what is best for them, then you have a choice. You can either further insist he eats his salad, which will lead to frustration, or you could punish your sweet, angel innocent as a bunny, or you could let it go.

If you choose the first two choices you will most likely freak out eventually, or feel terrible, and that means you are a sucky mom. But if you choose to let it go, feel empowered. You just allowed your child to make his own choice, and you can always encourage him to eat vegetables at the next meal. Just follow these guide lines. Because life is to short to insist your children do things they do not want to do.

Easter (extended version)

Hello all Easter week is coming to an end and I think I wantto sharesomeof the quirks and adevtures of the past week starting from Holy Thursday.
Last week Thursday, as we do every year we hax a stare meal. I was particularly excited this year because I am beginning Abby's prep for firsst communion. I was explaning to her that weare recreating the feast Jesus had before he died. When he gave us his body to eat, in the form of bread and wine. Hopefully she is beginning to grasp the concept. But mostly I want my kids to associate specific rituals with specific days so that can begin to recognize the importance of these days and why we do the things we do.

Good Friday a great tradition of buying feasting food. We travel to Gene's suasage shop. Affectionately referred to as the cow store, because of the Giant cow on sign. My mom buys smoked sausage, fresh sausage, kabanosy, horseradish with beets, polish rye bread, morski cheese and muenster cheese, sauerkraut salad, beet salad, cross bread, butter lambs, sugar lambs and beer. Every year on this fasting day for 29 years I have gone here. I brought John with. As we drove to the city and back home again I reminded John of footsteps of Christ. Now He's standing before Pilate. Now He's being scourged now at 12 o'clock He's being nailed to the cross. It's 3 o'clock Christ has died.

I woke in the stillness of Holy Saturday. I gathered my troop of children. We ventured over to the church with easter baskets full of feasting food to be blessed. After the blessing we traveled home. As I began preparing my contribution to the feast, a cheese pascha, I realized I had no almonds. I got the troop back into the car and we were off to the store. Finally completing Holy Saturday with egg dying, I fell into bed awaitng the sun.

Easter greeted us with a shining sun and gorgeous weather. We found our easter baskets, attended a beautiful mass, and head over the feast. We drank champagne, ate sausage and babka and cheese pascha.Christ is risen! I have been drinking coffee with whipped cream in it every day because, He is risen! I have only a little pascha left and hardly any candy. Easter week might soon be over but at least easter season lasts for forty days.

Finally Term! Hello 37 weeks!

Now I am beginning to wrap up my birth and labor prep. I am finding out that for the first time I am not ready at 37 weeks. I have the truly important stuff done. My birth box is complete. When I have the baby I have all the things I need for a good, safe birth. I know lists are boring but if you are curious what is in my birth list this is what I have prepared.

• Yellow fold with born at home birth certificates for foot prints
• ink pad
• Emergncy phone numbers
• birth pool
• pool thermoniter
• hose
• faucet adapter for hose
• 6 towels for drying mother getting in and out of tub
• 6 towles for baby
• 6 washcloths (cold compresss and misc)
• 2 plastic drop cloths for under the pool and to cover it
• thick drop cloth to use as a liner for pool
• unbreakable bowl
• olive oil
• witch hazel
• cord band
• diapers
• blanket
• Button front shirt for skin to skin bonding
• motrine
• 2 peri bottles (one for upstairs, one for down)
• Bulb Syringe (for aspiration if necessary)
• Plastic backed sheet to cover couch with for after delivery
• camera
• 2 lg garbage bags
• 2 tall size garbage
• post op sponges
• chucks pads
• depends 
• ice packs
• electrolyte drink, coconut water
• oj
• eggs
• food and coffee for birth attendants
• ginger brew
• peppermint EO for Nausea
• Clary sage EO for pain management
• golden seal for cord care
• magnesium oil for after pains
• peroxide (for clean up)
• Neroli EO for anxiety
• paper towels
• small comb (acupressure pain management)
• after birth soaks: Tub tea, Epsom salt, Lavender and Jasmine EO

Also we turned up the water heater temp. And I am going to need to ask someone to pick up food for us for after. Also champagne.

Happy birthday Katii!

My sister Katii passed away last year battling lymphoma. I just want to reflect a
Iittle on her today. I started this on her birthday January 23, but I finished today.

I asked her help with making lunch on her birthday. I believe she inspired me.  I believe in the communion of saints, and that Katii and I can talk and help each other even though we are separated by earthly death. The meal was a success.

Katii was a fantastic cook, she was a model mother, and had an eye for beauty. I wanted to be like her when I was little, and when I grew up, I wanted her good habits and skills. I think about her frequently. Often memories of ways she helped me. She was a big sister, a model big sister. She took care of me when I was a baby and has helped me all the way even into adulthood.

I always felt special sharing my birth month with her. She was the oldest girl and I the youngest. Our birthdays were in January. I got to share it with her. This was just one of the many things I felt I had in common with Katii. I thought we were so alike. We had the same long golden hair (hers was longer), the same teeth, the same height, same love of shoes (she probably loved them more). I just always, even when I was very young, thought of myself as a little Katii. When I was little, In my mind, my three sisters paired off, Tessa and Lena, Katii and me.

I really miss her. I feel like I missed so many opportunities to be with her and learn from her. I don't even have a recent picture of us. The only one I found was from my wedding, nine years ago.

Happy Birthday, Katii! Pray for me! Pray that by God's grace one day we will be happy together again.

25 weeks

Wow. 25 weeks already. I am way behind. I have all sorts of things I want to make for my baby and things I want finished, but nothing seems to be making any progress but the size of my belly and the growth of this little one.

Honestly today I felt very good because I actually emptied my sink for the first time in three days. My sink is clean and empty. My floor is vacuumed. My kids are in bed. And finally we pretty much finished school for the day. My kindergartener quit after phonics and I couldn't get her attention again. This is my life right now.

I can't get anything done, my food budget needs work, I hate my meal plan for the week, and I am totally overwhelmed with planning the financials of this birth. Normally I would just try very hard to say, God will provide. Only this time, I have to actually do something. I can't just sit back and wait for a miracle. Normally I have no choice but to just do nothing but pray and allow God to work. But this time I have to make a decision, and God help me make the right one.

I have never been extremely prudent. Prudence is virtue of making good decisions. I always think I am being prudent until I make the decision then I'm sure I made the wrong one. And this time I was so confident that I made the most prudent decision.

Now I need to figure out to go forward and be able to pay for this baby. And this is more complicated than having the money. There are a number of moving parts here. I need to trust God, but I'm having more trouble trusting myself. Most days, with all this chaos that surrounds me, I just want to cry. And cry. And cry. Problem is that won't even make me feel better. It won't get the dishes done, the lunch made, school completed, or the laundry washed and folded. Nope. It will just waste my time, and I do that well enough with out adding an emotional break down to the mix.

Forgive me for this particular emotional break down. It's like I've waited all day for it. As soon as this particular problem is fixed, hopefully we will only have smooth sailing ahead.

Half way

21 weeks today. I can not believe it. Time is going by so fast. I remember with my first pregnancy that nine months was way too long to wait to have a baby. And pregnancy was just ok. I was sick all the time and i had horrible back problems. I was waiting for the day that I would see my beautiful sweet baby. Then with my second I started to appreciate more the journey to the finish line. And so with each subsequent a pregnancy i have learned to appreciate the pregnancy part more. I truly feel the magic of caring a living human being with in yourself now. It is remarkable feeling this little creation move and know that I participated in making him, or her.

Preparation for the labor has become a very special activity to me. Labor is like like nothing else in the world. The pain is tremendous, but the experience is transcendent. So many time when thinking about labor during this pregnancy i am reminded of bible verses and Christ's own words. Constantly we see the image of a woman wailing in the pain of child birth.

Why, does God so often remind us of this image?
The woman wailing in the throws of labor until she brings forth her child.
Often we see image when we talk of Israel waiting for Christ and we see this image also compared to purgatory, and to us on earth awaiting heaven. I strangely desire this experience so that i may live out part of the images of the Bible. That sounds very strange. I don't even like the way it sounds when I say it out loud. I sound crazy. I'm not looking forward to the pain. No actually, before I even became pregnant this time, I was waking up in the middle of the night with the anxiety of going through labor. I knew I wanted another child. I wanted to be pregnant. I was scared of the pain of child birth. But then as time went on, that fear faded. I know it will l hurt, but I'm not afraid anymore.

Happy 2nd Trimester!

That's right. I am finally 13 weeks along. The second trimester is supposed to be full of energy and well being. So far I still have some stomach and digestion issues as well as some food aversions that only hit me every once in a while. The real kicker is how tired I have been since Saturday! I am so flippin tired I can barely believe it; however, I am thrilled to not be as anal about my coffee consumption as baby is growing pretty big.

As far as my back is concerned, yoga does help, but it still bothers me occasionally especially when I am under certain kinds of stress. I think the back thing is becoming manageable, and I am happy about that.

This baby will be my fifth home birth. I am very excited about it. What I have learn is that preparations for labor can never be started too early. My sister, mother of 9, all homebirths, advised me that as soon as I am excited about preparing I should get on it. If I put it off, I may not feel I have the energy, and I have found that to be true.

Labor preparation has many different aspects to it. There is preparing your body, mind, soul, your home, and ensuring you have the supplies you need. I need to move my son out of his sisters' room so I will have to redecorate the 'girl' room and decorate the 'boy' room. Also I homeschool, so this year we are trying out a different area of our house as our 'school' room. That is going to need to be all prepared. I need to organize the baby stuff and the labor stuff. On top of this is also the exercises I need to do to get my body totally ready for a great birth.

I am feeling a little overwhelmed right now. I will be responsible for what at this point seems like so many children; I have to face labor again. While labor is an amazing event, unlike anything I know of, it is incredibly intense and painful. So I have some ideas as how to maximize pain management. I have finally realized that is what my objective is, so far as pain.

I came across a device called Laboraide. I don't know anyone who has used this, but the concept is intriguing. It is a dental appliance. It holds your mouth slightly open. I believe this would allow for vocalization and prevent teeth grinding. I'm sure you could just used a rag to bite down on, for a very traditional approach, but this would allow for mouth breathing. Supposedly this is one of the benefits, I guess because it allows the woman more oxygen and therefore more energy.

This is were I am currently with my pregnancy. I am enthusiastically awaiting new development!

11 weeks

It's complaint time! My back hurts. It is completely messing me up. I can't do anything because my lower back is aching so bad.

Honestly, first I was afraid this was the first symptom of a miscarriage. I tried very hard to be calm and stress free, but after the last two years I realize, even if you don't actually feel stressed your brain is still stressing, if you are encountered with a stressful situation.

That aside. I don't feel as though I am miscarrying anymore, because a massive dose of nausea hit me. God is good! Yes, more suffering, but it is a relief to be reminded that things are probably ok.

Well, a great way to manage this problem is yoga stretches. I did my stretches, and my back still hurts. I just drank my coffee for the day, and as I'm waiting for it to kick in I have decided to blog.

I am so psyched that I am 11 weeks. I am almost done with the first trimester. I really cannot wait until Sunday. As each week passes, I feel more secure, because my chances of losing my baby reduce, while the don't disappear.  I swear that every once in while I feel something in my belly. I cannot wait until I can definitely feel those kicks and twists.

Today I was just thinking how blessed I am to have some many wonderful kids. I am surrounded by my children, and they are happy, and sweet, and cute, and now I get to add to their number. This amazing thing that I am allowed to create and cultivate using my own body is so amazing, and in about 7 more months, I will welcome a sweet child into this world. Then I will snuggle and kiss this baby. I will count his toes, and I will name him.

God is so good to allow me to share in 
His creative power.

Mornings Uhg

I don't want this post to sound like complaining. It will probably sound at least a little complainy...
I'm first trimester pregnant which means fatigue and nausea. But also in the case of this baby: headaches, dizziness, back pain, the shakes, hunger and feeling downright awful. Plus I can't get out of bed in the morning. I mean who would want to anyway, right?

Now I really want a big cup of coffee and I am trying to determine the safety of it because I don't drink coffee everyday anymore but... I just want a hot, sweet cup of deliciousness. So They say two cups a day right? Maybe after lunch I will indulge.

I had a big cup the day before yesterday. Yesterday I was running around all over the place. And yesterday I felt crampy. Anxiety about everything I do.

My Newest Journey

Every time this happens it is a new chapter in my life. I have a new life growing inside me. Now I am six weeks and the nausea has set in. I feel awful.

I asked God for this. When I was pregnant with the baby I lost I had no symptoms of pregnancy. When I was pregnant with my current 1 year old, I had only fatigue no nausea and that scared me. So as a mercy, I knew what I was asking but sometimes mercy comes to us as suffering, I asked for morning sickness. 

I thought that would fix my insecurities. It did not. For not only am I plagued with nausea and fatigue, I am also crampy and uncomfortable. I am not bleeding. But I keep thinking, "No I am not bleeding yet." 

I try to keep my struggles in perspective. First of all I understand that suffering is redemptive. My suffering, whether physical or emotional, or psychological can help me purify my soul and learn to focus on God as my suffering savior. Jesus suffered. Mary suffered. Who am I to expect that I shouldn't suffer?

God in his infinite Mercy and Kindess gives us our struggles and joys in order that we may reach heaven. Since my sister died in April I have been thinking a lot about the purpose of life. This life is meaningless unless we live forever. Our lives are short, full of suffering, and don't matter to the vastness of time and the universe, unless the purpose of our lives is to eventually live for ever.

We live to love God and to ultimatley proove our love for him, denying everything else, and going to be with him in heaven.  

So I asked for suffering. I got suffering. And my suffering is teaching me, "Trust God".  I don't know if I will get to carry my newest child to term. I don't know if I will die in a car crash tomorrow either. I can not know the future.

But I do know this. I quote St. Francis De Sales "God's will for you is both just and merciful". I have meditated on that phrase constantly since I lost my sweet baby in 2011. I have meditated on it every time I encounter suffering, because I 'feel' I am being treated unjustly when I am suffering. 

I did not want to be present when my sister died. I was there. God knew what I wanted, but He knew better that I needed to be there. I was there. 

I was trying to avoid suffering, and every time I try to avoid suffering, God loves me and makes sure that the suffering I do encounter is manageable. 

This is my Journey now. After my sister died. I knew that I wanted to start a new chapter in my life. I wanted to create life. Now I asked God to help me trust in Him. Trust Him, so that He could decide my future. My husband and I wanted another child. But we didn't conceive when I expected to, and I thought the time is not right. I had this internal struggle. Struggling between what I wanted and what God was giving me. And also thinking myself selfish, because I wasn't having trouble conceiving, it just wasn't happening as quickly as I wanted. 

Then God blessed me and I conceived. And I am happily feeling awful. And unhappily feeling awful, because I am paranoid and the signs are not clear to me. I don't know what God is going to ask of me in the future. And so I have only one choice. Know that God is in charge of my path and not me. I need to choose the path that leads to God and accept all the bumps and rocks and narrowness as blessings. They make me stronger because the path is steep and narrow, and I need preparation for the days ahead.

So I ask you to join me on my journey. I will update as often as I can.

A SAHM's Rule for Drinking Maragritas

If you are a pre- prenatal SAHM like I am you must enjoy your alcohol while you can, because your days are numbered.

To have the pleasantest, happiest experience drinking Maragritas follow these rules:

1. You do not have to wait until your husband gets home, but it's nice if you do.
2. You must have plenty of fresh oranges and limes.
3. Children must watch a non cartoon educational show about crocodiles...
4.  Serve your pre-mixed margarita mix (recommend Trader Jose's) over ice and orange slices on a glass rimmed with lime juice and sea salt.
5. If you forget to rim your glass just sprinkle salt on top, salt is essential for full enjoyment
6. True happiness comes from salsa and guac with corn chips while enjoying your margarita.
7. Enjoy peace and quiet, the company of your husband, and content tv zombie children
8. Pour your self a second margartita

The SAHM's Wonderful Day

I was really sick last week. I couldn't do anything, and my one year old daughter was also very sick I spent all my time on the couch nursing and feebly watching my other children, allowing TV to do most of the work. Today was the first day I actually felt normal. And though I have been trying to catch up on laundry and dishes and cleaning the house, I decided to make a trip to TJ's with all my children.

Crazy, you say? Oh yes it was crazy, but for one of the first times, it was wonderful. We went to Trader Joe's to exchanged the mistakenly bought club soda for tonic water. We got some other items for dinner and such. Then we went across the street to the new Aldi, which is awesome.

The new Aldi is clean and big and has brand new carts with a new way of buckling the kids in, which is sooooo much better. It is the greatest thing ever!

Anyway I got some great stuff at Aldi including desert, and then we went home. It was the least stressful day. And someone actually asked me if my kids were all mine. This the first time it has happened. I know it annoys many of you, but I feel like I never experienced this rite of passage into the bigger families club.

The cashier looked at my four kids and said with surprise, "Are these all yours?"
"Yes, " I replied with a smile.
"Any twins?"
"Nope, they are all two years apart,"
"Wow,"
It's not really a stretch. I am 28, and I have four kids. I think next time a cashier asks me I'll say,
"Nope, I'm just borrowing these two so I don't get carded."

A tale of 2 Babkas

These are my babkas, or paskas, is what my grandmother would call them. 

My grandma grew up in communist Russia, where it was illegal to celebrate Easter. My grandma, Wiktoria Lujakyczykow, told me that only old ladies went to church. At her house they never celebrated anything, for fear they would be found out. As a result traditions were lost. My Grandma's faith was never cultivated. 

When the Germans invaded Russia they took my Grandma from her home and sent her to a work camp. I'm a little fuzzy on the details but there she met my Grandpa, a Pole,  and soon they were married and had my dad. They then went to a refugee camp in Italy, then they moved to England, and finally they came to America to join my Grandpa's cousins. 

My Grandma has a recipe for babka, that she got from a friend. I don't know where she got it from. And that recipe calls for egg yolks. I was feeling cheap and didn't want to commit that many egg yolks to a recipe. 

I was also very tired. I knew we had to have babka, so I threw the ingredients into a bread maker, and hoped for the best. Resolving, if I had time, to make it the long way also. So I made two babkas. The one on the right was made in the bread maker, the one on the left made per my grandma's instructions, but with whole eggs. 

The results, they taste the same and to me are indistinguishable from my grandmas so I call that a win.

Happy 7 year post partum

So it's been 7 years since I delivered my first born. Wow. I don't feel like my life is crazy, but that is how I describe it to people. I just finished the third birthday cake this month. I have to admit. I am proud of myself. This cake is a mix cake because i just couldn't psychology deal with one from scratch right now, and iI have yet to accomplish a good recipe. The frosting is home made buttercream.
And I sculpted the figures out of fondant. The brown bird is chocolate fondant.

Self Feeding: I didn't know there was a name for this...

My littlest girl has started solid foods. This was not at my determination. Well it was, but it wasn't. The way I grew up my mom did not use baby food. She just gave the baby little bits of whatever she was eating. I thought this was the way everyone did it. I had no idea what baby food was for.

When my first little guy was a brand new baby I asked my older, child vetted sisters, when should I start feeding him solids. They both told me around six months he would be interested in food. That's when he will start pulling it off the plate and putting it in his mouth. This is what I went with. I would often eat with him by my lap and as soon as he started grabbing food and putting it in his mouth, than I started letting him have little bits of whatever I had.

I have done this with each subsequent child. Now number four has done the same thing.  It's pretty easy. I love it. It works for my kids. It works for the way I parent. It may not be the 'scientific' way, but it is pretty natural. I believe this is how people introduced their kids to food before science got involved in child rearing. Not to say that all science is bad, I just think that when it comes to child rearing, instinct is more important than studies. We have successfully survived as a species for quite awhile, without statistics and clinical studies.

But not just that. Also the fact that science is always changing. The one day it is bad to give your kids salt. The next it is good. Then it's bad again. Then good again. Now fat is bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. But the fats like canola oil, aka rapeseed oil, which the USDA says is so good for you, turns out to be a contrived oil that is good for Canadian agriculture, not particularly good for you, http://www.naturalnews.com/034733_canola_oil_rapeseed_food_labels.html

Then the fats that were deemed evil, because they are saturated, (Boo!) like butter and Coconut oil, are actually good for you due to their high digestibility and vitamin solubility. Things that people have been eating, because they are real and not completely contrive from indigestible material, ie hydrogenated oil (http://agriculturesociety.com/politics-and-food/whats-the-truth-about-cottonseed-oil/)

My point is not that we all need to be purest to survive, or even to thrive, just that I think our ancestors knew a little bit more about raising children than science discovers. Basically it seems to me that modern 'scientists' are trying to reinvent the wheel. Rather than trying to discover new ways of feeding our kids, why don't they research why the old ways worked so well. Lets try to understand why things are the way they are not try to redefine what they are.

Steps to a Blissful Sunday

To day is Sunday. Sunday is a day of rest created by God for man. That's right God created this day of rest and worship because we need it. I know I do. The problem is as my family gets older and larger, the day has become less boring, and less restful. Now I appreciate a boring Sunday because we are now busy 2 out of four weekends a month. 

But this Sunday has the makings to be blissful. 

First I had to wake up way to early this morning, because my son received the Light of Christ medal for his cub scout uniform. The little modest ceremony took place at the 8:00 mass which meant we (husband and I go to bed at 2 am) had to get up at 6. We struggled out of bed. I struggled to get the kids ready, to go outside and warm up the car, we struggled to get there on time. We made it. We celebrated mass. We received Christ, then a blessing for our throats, and John received his award. 

Getting up early has given us the whole day to relax and reflect. We got donuts on the way home. I have dinner in a crock pot. I am simmering orange peels with cloves and cinnamon on the stove, and my house is trashed. It may never be clean again, while at least not today. 

Today I reflect on my choices and struggles. My struggle is keeping house. I stink at it, but I'd rather stink at that than at anything else. So I painfully offer my house to God today. I ask him to bless it. Bless those who dwell in it, and those who will visit it. I need today, without it my week wouldn't come close to standard. 

Catching up the over view

Thanks to my dear friend Renee, I feel inspired to blog!! But I really have been remiss in my blogging so I feel like doing a quick run down of my feelings and experiences for about the last month. We'll see where this jumbled mess of thoughts ends up.

First I have been going through some major stress, in comparison to the rest of my life. I would have to say only junior year of high school was more stressful than now, and I'm not even sure if I can really compare the two because real things, not the stress of peers and fear of being a social outcast, are what's doing me in now; however although more tangible, I guess real and tangible and not even close synonyms, more real these problems are, the more joys I have and have because of them.

I have four awesome kids that have increased the amount of love, life, and joy I experience. And these awesome people and the one in heaven, have cause me great amounts of stress, joy and sorrow. And I am pretty sure that I am a better mother now with four than I was with one. Better that I love more, I am more patient (believe it or not), and yell less (at each individual child, probably yell more on the whole). I treasure my moments with my kids more. I hope that I will be a better mother with 8 than I am with 4 and a better mother of 12 than of 8 (Shhhh don't tell anyone about the 12. I look crazy enough already).

I'm still on the stress thing... Stress caused by my weight, weight from my last baby. I just can't lose. Exercise and dieting might work, but I'd have to stick to it for more than 5 days, and I just can't.

But then I read an awesome blog by Renee, http://3acres.blogspot.com/2013/01/7-quick-takes-friday-finally.html
She talks about going paleo, well not actually paleo (which I will never!!!!! do) but giving up grains and dairy, something that I would never have considered before reading her blog. She not only gave encouragement to the person, who feels as though they would die from lack of bread and dairy (ie myself) but also tells the foods she used to cope with it. And my, my they sound good.

So now I think maybe, I should try this giving up grains and dairy thing. But then I would have to give up coffee. That sounds horrible and good at the same time. I could put coconut milk in my coffee, but my sister found out that it screws with progesterone levels. Since I have miscarried, and I could theoretically be pregnant at any time, this freaks me out a little. So to start a diet without coffee... To be suffering without both that would be a sacrifice, and forcing myself to eat meat and vegetables without cheese... Seems like a good Lenten offering.

I guess I didn't get to the overview but next time...