Around Here These Days . . .

. . . I'm wishing for more sleep. Isaac's lovely sleep performance for that one night during that first week has yet to be repeated and if history informs me correctly, I don't expect to be sleeping through the night again until sometime in 2012. A friend asked me recently if I handle sleep deprivation well. Umm. No. My brain gets all mushy. I forget things. Important things. I make mistakes. Small mistakes. Big mistakes. But baby Isaac is worth all that trouble and more.

. . . Speaking of baby Isaac, he's a smiler. Isaac means "laughter" and he's living up to his name. He smiles a lot in his sleep. All babies do this, but it seems like Isaac does it more than my other babies. And the other day when Isaac and I were taking a nap together, he woke up, looked at me and smiled. A real smile, not a gas induced or a sleepy dream smile, a real smile. Pretty neat.

. . .Matt has grown a beard. Moses would be proud. He also wrote and presented his first professional paper. Apparently it went really well. The guys asked lots of questions after Matt's presentation and that's a good sign. After all, computer data storage is not the big yawn that most people think it is.
. . .We've been trying to go to as many of our niece's basketball games as possible. We yell, "Way to go Elle!" "We love you!" and other similarly embarrassing things from the stands. Isaac sleeps soundly through the crowd's cheers, the ref's whistles and the clock's buzzers. It's not much different than being at home, really.
. . .We celebrated Lydia's sixth birthday a bit early. She's not official until tomorrow, but she's been reminding me regularly since last spring about all her birthday expectations. A pink birthday cake (with candles that she personally picked out at the dollar store about 6 months ago), a camera and a violin. She got her pink birthday cake on Friday night when Grandpa Tom and Grandma Jane came here to help us celebrate. Last night, at the big Macduff family gathering, Lydia received a play violin from Grandpa Bob and Grandma Dianne. Grandma Dianne says that if Lydia takes piano lessons and still desires to play the violin when she is in the fourth grade, the she will buy Lydia a real violin. As far as the camera goes, I think her Auntie Em might have something to do with fulfilling that wish, but I'm not tellin'.
. . . I ordered forty pounds of fresh chicken breasts in my sleep deprived state. (What was I thinking? Oh wait, I wasn't thinking.) The chicken will arrive on Tuesday and will need to be trimmed, bagged and frozen in relatively short order. Good thing I ordered the cookbook "Fix, Freeze, Feast" as a "Happy Birthday" to me present. Too bad I didn't order a new brain for myself as well. Onward and upward. Dinner awaits--not for me, but for Isaac. (Why is it that babies always want to nurse as soon as you sit down to eat?)

Home Ec Training

Grace received a blank cook book from me for her birthday this past fall. My friend Tammy gave me the idea of giving the cook book, as she did the same thing with her two older daughters. When Grace has successfully prepared a recipe, she's allowed to add it to her cookbook. By the end of her high school career, she should have quite a repertoire of cooking skills and recipes from which to draw as she begins her adult life.

I gave Grace a hands on home economics assignment a couple of weeks ago with the cook book project in mind. By "hands on," I mean that I kept my hands off. I told Grace to make dinner. The choice of menu was entirely hers. I gave her one hint--start working by 4 p.m. Grace has proven she can follow a recipe. She has surpassed me in her proficiency with yeast breads. However, getting multiple dishes on the table in a timely manner and at approximately the same time has eluded her. It's simply a matter of practice.

When I have the girls help me make dinner, I'm the one with the overall time line in my head. I'm the one directing which dishes should be started at what time and so forth. Therefore, Grace has not had much practice in this particular area, just because she hasn't had to do it. I used the fact that I was caring for a newborn as a reason to turn the reigns completely over to Grace that night.

She made the Pioneer Woman's Meatloaf--to die (I do mean, to die) for. She also made mashed potatoes, sauteed broccoli with garlic and bacon. She warmed some rolls in the oven to round out the meal. (We've also been working on making balanced menus--i.e.--just chicken and rice won't cut it--let's add a veggie and fruit as well.) Grace asked me a couple of questions during the process of cooking, but mostly, she completed the dinner all on her own. Even though we didn't eat until 6:45, the dinner made up for its late start in tastiness. It was delicious. She was considered the queen of the evening by both her dad and little brother Paul who were over the moon with all that bacony goodness.

We've been blessed to have quite a few meals from friends delivered to our home over the past couple of weeks, so even I'm out of cooking practice. As of this week, we're back on the menu planning band wagon and Grace will be getting even more time in the kitchen to hone her dinner preparation skills.

The Big 4-0

I turned forty on Saturday. When Matt and I were newly married and in our mid-twenties, we belonged to a "young couples" group at our church. The group included some forty somethings. Man, I thought they were old and I certainly didn't think they belonged in a "young" couples group. Well, here I am. Forty.

Matt wanted to have a big ta-do surprise party for me, but I objected. Just two weeks out from giving birth, I knew I wouldn't be up for it. So we decided to invite some family and have a smallish party here. My brother even made the long drive down. My parents bought take out from my favorite little Italian restaurant in town and Matt's parents bought a red velvet cake from my favorite bakery in town. Grace and Elizabeth made cupcake cake pops for the occasion. Carb on. At least I'm not on the diabetic diet anymore.
My Uncle Keith (and godfather) retold the story of my birth. "Grandma Schafer told me to go over to Seattle because Jane thought she was having the baby. She really wasn't (her due date was a month away), but as her big brother, I was told to go over to be with her. I got a few miles out of town and my car did a 360 on the icy road, but I trudged on. When I got to Tom and Jane's apartment, there was a note on the door (pre-cell phone and texting days, folks) that said, 'It's coming! We're at Swedish hospital.' "

"When I got to the hospital, Tom and I went out for dinner. When Melissa was born, the nurse held her upside down by her ankles like a chicken. I took the night shift for those first couple of nights home from the hospital. The second night, I used Great Grandma Logsdon's recipe for getting babies to sleep--I put a little bit of brandy at the bottom of the baby bottle. You slept like the proverbial baby, Melissa." My kids were tickled to hear the story retold once again. It changes a bit with each telling, but that's pretty much the gist of it--I don't believe I'm leaving any facts (or embellishments) out.
Saturday night as I ushered in my fortieth year on this earth, I was surrounded by the people I love most and that's the best gift of all. God has blessed me richly and I am so very undeserving, but ever so grateful.

A Well-Oiled Machine

The older kids have been doing a fantastic job of keeping this place humming along during my postpartum recovery. Grace and Elizabeth have been making sure that the kitchen is always clean, that the clothes washer and dryer are always running and that the little ones are fed and readied for the day.
In addition to her other duties, Grace has been keeping us supplied with whole wheat bread.
Elizabeth is my expert baby holder. The baby is mostly with me out of necessity, but when he's not, Elizabeth is first in line to volunteer for babysitting duty. Isaac seems to be very comfortable in her arms.
In order to keep the household running smoothly, Paul has also been pulling a little extra weight around here. In addition to helping his Dad and sisters, he is still taking good care of his chickens (and their eggs). His egg selling business is going quite well. He's always got plenty of egg orders to fill.
Paul has used every spare minute he's had lately in the building of a dogsled. Yesterday a couple from church dropped off dinner and stayed a little while to chat. Paul was all ears when Mr. L began to describe how he once made a dogsled by steaming elm saplings and bending them into the proper shape. After the couple left, Paul immediately went out to the shed to continue working on his dogsled. Never mind that we don't have a dog. I guess that's just a minor detail that will somehow work itself out. Snow is in the forecast, so Paul is pushing himself hard to finish up his project very quickly.

She's Twelve

We celebrated Elizabeth's birthday on Saturday. Grandpa Tom, Grandma Jane, Auntie Em and Raphaella joined us for the birthday festivities. Grandpa Tom offered to buy take out for dinner, but Elizabeth wanted home cooked food, so that's what we had. Elizabeth chose chuck roast, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, carrots and rolls for the menu. It goes without saying that dessert was "Elizabeth's birthday cake"--yellow cake with orange butter cream icing. Right before dinner, Daddy took Grace and Elizabeth to the mall. Elizabeth got her ears pierced, compliments of her big sister. She looks like quite the young lady now. My little baby with the chubby chubby cheeks is all grown up.

Happy Epiphany

We had our annual Epiphany celebration today. The word "celebration" might be a bit much. We dialed things down a lot this year, due to my lower energy levels. However, the wise men from our nativity did get moved from the fireplace mantel to their proper place by the baby Jesus. We also ate our usual Epiphany dinner, which included Mediterranean Chicken and Butternut Squash Stew with citrus couscous. Daddy read the story of the wise men from the Bible at the dinner table. I gave the kids a Christmas ornament featuring the three wise men, which is another one of our Epiphany traditions.
"When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh." Matt. 2:10-11

Lydia's Favorite

My Uncle Keith has been spoiling Lydia lately. He's been indulging her biggest gastronomic yearning, which is shrimp. Anyone who knows Lydia knows that the girl LOVES shrimp (how weird is that for a five year old?).

Uncle Keith brought Lydia a shrimp platter from Costco last week when he and Aunt Leanna were here waiting for baby Isaac to come into the world. Lydia was in heaven. I told her to stop eating after she consumed half the tray, not because I thought she would get sick (she's already proven her stomach knows no limits when it comes to shrimp), but because I wanted other folks to have a chance to eat some, too. When I told her to stop eating, Lydia proceeded to suck on the tails of the shrimp she had already consumed.

Today, while Uncle Keith was in town, he stopped by Costco and bought Lydia another shrimp platter. Tisk. Tisk. (Insert finger wagging here). She's one spoiled little girl--and she's loving every bite of it.Daddy was discussing the concept of "loving your neighbor" with the kids at the dinner table this evening. After dinner, he pulled the shrimp platter from the fridge and told Lydia that somebody really loved her. She started jumping up and down, saying, "Uncle Keith! Uncle Keith!"

One for the Record Books

Last night was probably the most enjoyable night I've ever spent with a newborn--ever. For years I've endured all the stories [taunts?] from other moms who say, "I got home from the hospital and the baby slept through the night," or "My baby is seven weeks old and sleeps from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. every night." Oh barf. We've NEVER had a baby who slept through the night. Matt and I feel blessed if our "baby" starts sleeping through the night at somewhere around eighteen months of age.

But last night, last night was different. I fed Isaac at about 10:45 p.m and instead of waking every 1 1/2 to 2 hours during the night to feed my baby boy, I only awakened twice to feed him. When I woke up at 7:30 a.m., I tried to feed him, but--get this--he was too sleepy to eat. So--get this--I got my shower AND ate my breakfast. Only then was my little guy finally hungry enough to stay awake and nurse. Such a gentleman.Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not naive enough to think that last night will be a lasting pattern, but maybe because Isaac is my seventh child, God thought I deserved just a wee taste of life on the other side--the non-sleep deprived side. Ahh, paradise--at least for one night.

We're Home

We arrived home yesterday from the hospital to half a dozen very excited kids. Needless to say, we're sure Isaac will not lack for affection around here. I always expect a rough first 24 hours after I come home from the hospital. Everyone has to jockey for position, finding his or her new place in the family structure and inevitably, the newborn who rested so peacefully in the hospital decides to stay up all night long. That's pretty much how it turned out. We had quite a few little squabbles that we had to break up and some tears, too. Suddenly, Daddy became the go-to person for cuddles since I was otherwise occupied. I think Matt had four kids on his lap last night while we tried to watch "Michael Palin's Europe"--exciting New Year's viewing.
We all headed to bed early. I was sooo happy to get in my own bed and know that I wouldn't be bothered by nurses all night long--just a newborn and a still-adjusting-to-not-being-the-baby two year old. When our neighbors set off fireworks at midnight, I was holding and rocking baby Isaac, who was looking very intently into my eyes. Last year at that same moment, I was crying tears of grief. This year, I was crying tears of joy. What a beautiful baby. What a beautiful God.
Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow. James 1:17


P.S.--Thanks to Uncle Keith, Aunt Leanna, Mom & Dad Macduff for taking care of our kiddos while we were away. Thanks to Mom & Dad Hilliard for the abundance of baby clothes, blankets, flowers and love. Thanks to Tammy and girls for providing a wonderful first-night-at-home meal. To Julie for little gifts for ALL the kids (much to their delight) and MORE goodies. Thanks also to Sande for the pumpkin dessert and to Rena for taking Lydia on a play date and for all the well wishes and visits from loved ones and friends. And I'm sure I've forgotten somebody or something, but grace for this tired Momma would be appreciated. I know my memory will only get worse over the next couple of months. As my sister-in-law, mother of eight says, "My heart is big, but my brain is small."