Springtime Sunday Sewing

Oh some wild and crazy weather we've been having!  Dark skies and thunder one moment, sunshine and warmth the next!  Yes, it's Springtime in Michigan, with all that implies.

Last Sunday I found myself with a little bit of spare time to do some leisurely Sunday sewing.  I dug through my sewing mess cupboard, and surfaced with some leftover fabric from a dress I made F a long time ago (which now finally fits her!), a bit of stretchy jersey and an idea.  I loosely followed this tutorial for sewing the stretch jersey to the skirt.

These skirts are so easy to make.  As soon as I get a bit more time, I'll be heading to the fabric store to stock up on supplies.  I followed this tutorial.  In under an hour from start to finish, I can make a small stack of them for the girls in my life - myself included!.

Easy peasy.  Adorable.  Functional.  Perfect for Spring.

What are you working on these days?

In Threes

From the oldest, with his love of baseball, biking and learning to the youngest, cutting teeth and trying to take those first few steps and of course that strong and sensitive, loud and crazy one in the middle, I'm so enjoying being a Mama to three - boys, that is.

A nearly nine year old who comes to me with his serious questions and wonderings and still comes in for a kiss goodnight.  A three year old who never does anything small scale, who never walks when he could run, never talks when he could shout and never smiles when he could toss back his head and laugh.  A baby who just might be the most sweet-natured little person I've ever met.

I'm reminded of a comment a dear friend, Mama to many little girls, made when asked if she was going to have "another girl."  She said "oh no, not another one; a different one."

Yes, these three are really something. At each different stage, in every shape, size and temperament, it's a joy to be called "Mom" by such wonderful people.

Whole Family Thanksgiving

“A life contemplating the blessings of Christ becomes a life acting the love of Christ.” 

― Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are

It was a day during Lent.  My little ones watched me take down the crayon box and select a sheet of paper.  "What is Mommy doing?  Mama, are you making a picture?"  They crowded around the table, Mommy taking the time to color something they just had to see.  After a few moments, I held it up - a single white sheet of paper,  simple words.

"It needs a flower, Mom."  Dinah urged, and I relented - flowers are a grace, so I drew one right alongside.   She was satisfied, despite my lack of artistic talent.

"What does it say?" Jonah wanted to know.  I taped it to the wall in the small space between two doorposts - the gateway between the kitchen and dining room.  They pressed close around me to see.

"Gratitude Wall.  In everything, give thanks."  Ben read aloud.  "What's a gratitude wall?"

"Here, I'll show you."  From the drawer in the kitchen, I took out a small stack of miniature post-its and a pencil.  I wrote on it "my sweet kids and husband. ~Lydia."  I pressed it onto the wall just below the sign and smoothed out the paper under my palm.

I've been writing down the blessings in a private journal for years.   Years of babies and birthdays and beauty all around.  Years of hard days and hot tears and crying out for direction.  And we go around the table most meals, each one contributing their blessing of the day.  But I wanted something more.  A visual reminder.  

Each child wrote down their blessings.  Some wanted to do more, but with a finite amount of post its and an infinite amount of blessings, I restricted them to one per day until I had a chance to buy more.  "Can we fill the whole wall up, Mom?"  Fiona asked excitedly.  They went off to play that day, brimming with happiness.

What happened next was more than I had banked on.

"Put a blessing on our gratitude wall!" they all shouted when my sisters stopped in for a visit.  Grandpa left one too, and Uncle Noah and Aunt Amanda.  The kids read each one.

I pass through that doorway a hundred times or more each and every day, and those little post its of gratitude are like flags of goodwill urging me on.   This life is pure gift, and even the hard things are holy.

I still need to go buy more post its.  But gratitude cannot be held back by lack of paper.  It's fast becoming a family trait around here, and I'm discovering that the more we count the gifts, the more we see them.  And the more we see His love all around, the more we can share.

How do you create an atmosphere of gratitude?  Hint: try the wall.  It's contagious!

A Bit Of Crowning Glory

Knitting has been a bit on the back burner here recently.  I simply seemed to have lost the will to knit.  Alarming as this was, I scoured Ravelry for an idea to get my passion back.  Something small and quick.  Something rewarding.

I came across this crown in my favorites folder and immediately set to work, using some of the purewool that had recently arrived from a co op.  This pattern is extremely easy and would be a great beginner project.  I knit the recommended size for a child in just one evening and set about to felting it.

It came out a bit small, at least for the noggins of my little ones.  Peter was the only who who it fit.  Still, I think it is absolutely adorable.  It also came out a bit flared, which I wonder could be avoided if I used a size up of needles on the bottom.  I will definitely make this pattern again, with the following mods:  use yarn held double for extra sturdiness and knit one more peak, making it big enough for the rest of the family.

All in all, a perfect crown for the dress up basket.  Or for just every day.  Peter seems to think it works just fine.

What are you working on these days?


{Psst! Are you on ravelry?  Let's be friends!  Find me here}

Home Apprenticeship

"I could never homeschool.  That's awesome that you do, though."

We're in the waiting room at ballet, watching our pint-sized ballerinas through the window.  I reluctantly lift my eyes from Dinah's porte de bras to meet her gaze.

"Oh I'm sure you could.  It's not much different than regular parenting, really."

She's not readily convinced, shakes her head and gestures.

"No, no, no.  With the kid's home all day?  I could never get anything done."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's Sunday and I'm washing up the last of the dishes.  Cake baking in the oven, bread dough tucked snugly into pans, vegetables and macaroni and cheese waiting in the fridge for their turn to be cooked for our weekly family meal.

Outside, the hum of the mower and I see my 8 year old walk past the window, throwing the bulk of his thin 8 year old frame against the weight of it.  Behind him walks his Dad, my husband, just a few steps.  Close enough to step in to correct and instruct, far enough to let his son learn on his own.

My toddler comes running in from outside and I set him up with a dishcloth to dry the pots and pans for me. He's quiet and content on his little stool, occasionally looking up and asking me if he's doing a good job.  I apply praise liberally and his face is all light and smiles.

It gets me thinking of that conversation last week at the studio.  How does one get anything done with five kids in the home all day every day?  To be sure, some things can be quite a mess.  But the basics?  They get done.  Laundry, groceries, meals, schooling, bathing...it all happens just fine.  Maybe a bit more hectic than if they weren't here, but I wonder if that's a bad thing.

In the past 200 or so years, it seems we've forgotten how to "get anything done" with children around.  Certainly some people still have it figured out.  Drive out in Amish country and you'll see a Father plowing his field - with 2 or 3 youngsters tagging along and helping.  Regular families used to be able to do that, too - incorporate their children into the daily running of their homes and lives.  Children learned by watching and working alongside their parents - important skills.  Parents didn't view their children's presence as being burdensome or exasperating, but rather another aspect of the job - training the next generation to work.

These days, it's easier to turn on a video for the kids while you are making dinner, or do all the chores yourself because it's more efficient and orderly that way.  But perhaps this is robbing our children of something very important?  

Homeschooled or schooled, it doesn't matter.  Incorporating children into real life begins with the home life and how we allow them to apprentice along side us, yes, even if it means a bit of a mess in the kitchen, or laundry not folded exactly right.  Perhaps his mowing isn't in perfect straight lines, but it certainly never will be if he isn't given the opportunity to try.  We also need to get away from viewing "work" as a dirty word and something to save our children from.  Teach little ones to love work by allowing them to help when they are little and still want to - and raise up a crop of hardworking adults who get the job done.

It's a lesson I'm still learning when I'd rather just buzz through these 3 loads a day and not be bothered teaching the 5 year old how to fold Daddy's shirts.  Or when I really just want to get these loaves in the oven and not let him help me knead.  But I know it's all a part of the job - a very important part.  Perhaps the most important part.

Lazy people want much but get little, but those who work hard will prosper (Proverbs 13:4 NLT).

How are you apprenticing your kids?

This Moment

This moment, there's a roast in the oven, warm laundry folded in a basket, swept floors and wiped counters. In this moment, there are 4 kids playing out in the sunshine after a morning of school and chores. This morning there's afternoon coffee and a book waiting on my kindle after I finish making up the beds. This moment there is a baby sleeping (sleeping!) in my backpack. 

There are lots of moments around here. Moments where I procrastinate on dinner, or let the laundry pile up, or ignore the mess.  There are moments when the kids fight and the baby cries and I just want one quiet moment alone and can't seem to find it. God is so good, to sprinkle the good moments in with the not so good ones. The hard days with happy. Grace! 

 There are hymns playing softly in the background and I'm lighting a candle and inhaling the lilacs my son brought in from the tree out back.

No matter what comes next, thankful for just this moment.

(Hey there! I've got some new posts queued up, just waiting on a new card reader to show up in the mail. More goodness to come soon!)

 

Healing for the Hard Days

He's got the pencil in his right hand, squeezes it so hard the lead snaps clean off.

And those ears of his bloom bright red and he's all brimming and frustration rumbles from deep inside.

It's after he's stomped up those 100 year old stairs and slammed his bedroom door with a sob that I close my eyes tight and sigh.

10 years ago when I sat in an office building and felt that baby kick for the first time, I didn't realize how many hard days there would be.

Days when we both yell.  Days when I struggle to speak peace with a relentless tongue that won't quit.  Days when I'm sweet and gentle and his eyes are still all defiance.  I know my soul is a mess and I tap quietly on his door, whisper an apology to the silence on the other side.

Someone once told me I was too young to be a mother.  He was a baby then, balanced on my hip while I looked for all the world like the babysitter, not the mom.  I had burned in anger at the comment, dramatic youth determined to prove myself.  I had this.

Do I still?  Some days I'm not so sure.  I head into my own room where the breeze is nudging those curtains and the baby is sleeping still, tiny chest lifting soundlessly.

The babies get easier.  The pregnancies quicker.  But it's always the first child that throws you for a complete loop.  Each Mother has to re-invent the wheel of parenting.  We can read all the books and listen to all the advice, but when you are tossed into parenting for the very first time, it's all trial and error.

He comes into my room while I'm staring out the window, praying my heart.  He slips his boy arms around my waist and buries his head in my hip.  We stand together for a moment or two, and I think of how a boy loves his Mom and how a Mom loves her boy and aren't we just so fortunate, so blessed, so incredibly privileged to have grace cover it all?  The foibles and the failings, on both sides of the parenting equation.

 I hand him his pencil, sharpened to a point, and he smiles as he takes it.  There will be hard days.  Lots of them.  The miracle is the healing when we brush ourselves off, claim grace, offer forgiveness, and begin again.

Sewing On a Button

I'm reading a book.  No, more like devouring a book.  And today I'm popping in to tell you, you should be reading this book, too.  I'm not even finished yet, but I am confidently recommending that each and every one of you get your hands on this book and read it.

"Kisses from Katie" is one teen girl's journey to Uganda where she loses her life of comfort to a life lived for God's purposes, including adopting 14 little girls and starting a ministry that feeds thousands.  Throughout the book she tells the stories of so many of the wonderful people that she meets, helps, and points right back to the One who makes it all possible.  She challenges complacency and gives the reader a front row seat to what one person is able to do to help, if one is only open.

So, I've sewn on a button.  Right there in the sidebar of my blog, a button to click through and find the site for Katie's nonprofit, Amazima.  I don't post buttons, but I felt compelled to put this one up.  Click it.  Read her story.  See the beautiful pictures.  Donate.  Become a part of something bigger than yourself.






And for heaven's sake, read the book.

Today, In My Home

"I love your blog so much.  It really encourages me and makes me excited to be a mother."

My sister, Esther, is leaning on the counter top while I unload the dishwasher.

"...but then I come over here and it's really overwhelming and not always so pretty and I can see how hard it is."


Anyone who blogs will tell you that there are things left unmentioned.  I started this blog trying to see the good and filter all of life through a lens of grace.  That means that I look beyond the things that are hard.  Some of the daily struggles I choose not to dwell on in this space.


Anyone who takes photographs will tell you some things are cropped.  Or that you clear a small space to take a nice picture, even while a mountain of laundry sits just out of frame.  All those photos on pinterest? Real, but fake.  All a matter of perspective.

Writing is an art form.  There is no right or wrong way to do it, to express a thought or feeling.  Some bloggers prefer the brutally honest, tell-it-like-it-is format.  Others ignore real life completely.  I like a balance of both.  I hope that I can write hopeful, happy posts without giving out the assumption that all is perfect.  Occasionally I feel the need to let everyone who reads this know that things around here are a big mess.

So, how's about a sneak peek into my home today?

Today, in my home, my kids are eating tortilla chips for breakfast.  It's after 10 am and I'm sipping cold coffee in a pair of my husband's pajama pants.  My oldest is still asleep, my baby down for the first nap of the day in my messy bedroom.  I really need to clean the bathrooms today.  My daughter stepped on a rusty nail last night in the garden and is laid up on the couch, watching Thumbelina.  My toddler is refusing to wear pants today and I'm refusing to argue.

Today I have a knitting custom to finish, just an inch or so left, but it's sitting under a stack of paperwork I need to get to and (most likely) won't.  I have made plans to run away to a friend's house this afternoon, preferring talking the afternoon away to facing reality today.

There are dishes in the sink from last night's dinner and the floors are a mess of crumbs.  I have a new book on my kindle and would like nothing better than to curl up with it and ignore everything else.  I have 2 writing deadlines staring me down.

Fiona is bouncing on the trampoline in the living room.  Jonah just smeared his filthy fingers down the dining room window.  These pajama pants are really just too comfortable for me to care.  Just 5 more minutes before I get moving, please?

Some days, you just have to tell it and live it like it is.  Imperfect, messy and possibly even cringe-worthy.  Ah, life.  It's beautiful, no?

F.A.Q.

First of all, thank you so much  to all who sent in questions!


I received quite a few, both on my facebook page and in my inbox. You'll notice that some have been edited or added to if I received similar questions.  Hopefully everything you want to know gets answered!

This is going to be a long post, so let's get started!


Q: How did you get started blogging?


I began blogging my senior year of high school, 10 years ago, when a friend introduced me to the Xanga blogging community.  I've been blogging somewhere about something ever since.  I love to write and connect with the great friends I've made via blogging.  So blessed to know you all!

Q: Where do you order your yarn and what is your favorite weight/fiber to use?

I order my yarn from knitpicks.com, mryarn.com and often participate in yarn co ops to get quality yarns for a lower price.  I prefer wool to pretty much anything else and like a light worsted/dk weight that combines great yardage without being so small that projects take forever.  Some of my current favorites are 100purewool, madelinetosh dk and swish worsted.

Q: If you could design the perfect house, what would it look like?

Living in a small house for the past 5 years has definitely opened up my eyes to what I would like in a house.  My preferred house would be a brick or stone farmhouse with a wraparound porch, approx. 2500 square feet.  I'd like a really big, sun-filled kitchen out back with space for a large amish table, a family room/library and a formal livig room.  Wide plank wood floors throughout, big farm sink, etc.  I'd want 3 big bathrooms and a full sized basement.  I'd want a mud room to keep all the grime out of my kitchen.  4 bedrooms would be ideal - a boy's room and a girl's room, a parent room and a guest room for my husband's parents to stay in when they visit.  I'd also like 5-10 acres and a barn.

That's my dream house.  Reality will probably be very different!

Q: How many children do you think you'll have?

I got this one from quite a few people.  My sisters tell me that people even ask them!  I know no one like the real answer, but it is what it is:  I don't know.  Children and babies are, to me, God's best gifts here on earth.  I am not one who will say they are ready to stop changing diapers, or long to go on a grown up vacation or back to work.  I'm living my life goal right now, so that makes it a very different question for me.  When I think on my family 10, 20 years down the road, I see kind of what I grew up with: a large group of close knit siblings and hopefully lots and lots of gorgeous grandbabies gathered around.  The specific number is not one that has been revealed to me.  I suppose the answer is that I am subject to God's leading in this matter and ultimately the decision of a specific number will be on that God, my husband and I come to together.  Also, there is nothing new to report on that front.  Peter is still the baby!

Q:  How do you define the simple life and how can one make that happen?

I must say, this question stuck in my mind for days as I thought out my answer.  The one word that kept coming t0 my mind was freedom.  I define the simple life with the word freedom.  In choosing to live in a simple manner - one income, no debt, one car, renting a small home, eschewing pricey vacations and new furniture - we are able to live in abundant freedom in other areas.  We're free to have another baby without trying to scrape together funds for daycare due to having 2 working parents.  We're free to give our kids

private education through homeschooling.  We're free to pick and choose very intentionally what activities the kids participate in so that the majority of our evenings are spent at home together.  There is a sacrifice element there, but I definitely feel that the things we sacrifice are worth the freedom we attain by living this way.  This freedom extends to the letting go of previously held ideals.  The last 100 years has brought a great change to how people (especially Americans) view needs vs. wants.  We have become confused as to what is really necessary to live a good, rich life. Somehow we all got conned into thinking that unless you can take the kids to Disney or throw big birthday parties or pay for college or them a car for their sweet 16, you're not living a good life.  We reject that, and instead embrace faith, family and frugality and find that, in many ways, the very best things in life are free.  You just have to stop getting in your own way, break unhealthy financial habits, get rid of excess constraints on your time and enjoy the things that make you happy and that bring you closer to your family and your faith.  That's the simple life, to me.

Q: How do you manage Homeschooling with a baby in the house?

I'm a pretty relaxed homeschooler.  There are things that I require to get done each day, but our daily schedule varies greatly, and usually the baby at the time has a great deal to do with that.  I try to get the one on one schooling done while the baby is sleeping - things like read alouds and having the kids read to me, etc.  Subjects that the kids are more self sufficient in such as math and spelling can be done when the baby is awake as they don't need quite as much from me.  A baby carrier is a must have for homeschooling when the baby is awake!  It is is a tremendous help to remember that the time a baby is in the house is such a short season!

Q: How do you budget/live on one income?

This is something that is currently in flux as we do a budget re-vamp.  Basically we live very simple with very few extras.  We do not use credit cards and are moving toward using a cash system with regular bills being pulled out of our checking account automatically.  I cook almost entirely from scratch so that saves us quite a bit.  Any extra purchases or trips require saving up or being creative with making a little bit of extra money.  My favorite ways is to do a bit of extra knitting over at my side project,  ThisBusyMamaKnits.

Q: What curriculum do you use for homeschool?

I use a hodge podge of different curricula that I string together.  Currently we use A Beka for 
science/history/readers, Horizons and Teaching Textbooks for Math, Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons and Explode the Code for phonics, Sequential Spelling for spelling, A Reason For Handwriting for handwriting.  I usually go by the book lists on amblesideonline for literature.

Q: What is your testimony of Faith?

This could very easily get quite long, so I'll make it quick (and hopefully come back to it later on!).  I was raised in a lovely Christian home with wonderful moral parents.  I was baptized, made my first communion and was confirmed in the Lutheran church as a child.  During my teen years I fell prey to some typical teenage rebellion, lost my way a bit,  but I gained new ownership of my faith once I was married and had my son.  My journey is far from over and, as I explore it further and further every day, never ceases to amaze me.  God has been so good to me.

What a wonderful way to ring in a new year!  Thank you all for your lovely questions.  It was so fun answering them all!

Mama Blessings (5 Tips for Making Meals for Friends)

"My friend Christine brought us dinner!"  I texted my husband.  Like an angel with 3 children in tow, she drove a half hour, stepped through the kitchen door and handed me four courses.  Just like that.

"What? Why?  Why would she do that?"  My husband all confused.  And I know why.

*********

I became a mother at a time when everyone I knew was off doing other things.

I became a mama when the only mothers I knew were my aunts, my Mom, the moms of friends.

I brought a baby home to a dark one bedroom apartment and a vase of flowers Mom had set next to the kitchen sink.  She made us dinner that night, and, a few nights later, my Aunt down the street followed suit.

After that, I was on my own.

Some friends dropped by to visit, on a break from college or passing through.  They'd come by and we'd watch movies and pretend there wasn't a baby asleep in the next room.  Occasionally I'd get a babysitter and try to go out and connect with people my age but in very different stages of life.

Not surprisingly, after a while, those relationships faded into the background.  I joined a MOPS group and, slowly but surely, began to embrace my new role.  Bolstered by the encouragement of the new friends I made on similar paths, I was able to bloom.  Not only has my confidence and enjoyment of motherhood increased, but the quality of my relationships with other women.

Women who bring each other meals when babies are sick, or husband's lose jobs, or friends have babies.  Women who bring meals when friends have miscarriages, or lose parents or other loved ones.  When they see someone struggling, they roll up their sleeves and get cooking.

I've been on the blessed side of this more times than I can count. When I was in a hospital with my baby hooked up to oxygen, a friend brought us dinner.  When I was so sick in early pregnancy, a friend committed to sending a meal a week home.  Always cheerful, sliding covered casseroles into the fridge, a quick hug and then back to the tasks of daily life.

This life is hard work.  Sharing the yoke is a way, from her very own kitchen surrounded by her very own work, one Mom can minister to another.  In a language all her own, she communicates: I'm sharing your burden. I know, I'm sorry, I love you.  Hush, Mama, Hush. 

Keep your chin up, all's well, and look, you don't have to worry about dinner tonight. 

It's something the well meaning men in our lives don't always get.  How something so small and seemingly minute can communicate so much.  Any woman who has dinner staring her down every day at 5 pm knows that it's sometimes the small things that can break you down.  How support is communicated when a burden is lifted, if only for a day.   


It's why good, strong friendships matter so very much.


5 Tips for Making Meals:


1) Don't Ask.  Most women will say "oh no, you don't need to do that!" if you offer to bring them a meal.  Instead of asking "Can I bring you dinner?" say "What day works for me to drop off dinner?"

2) Double It.  You are making your own family dinner anyway.  Make it easy on yourself by simply doubling whatever you are making.

3) Don't Assign a Job.  Send the food in disposable containers so that the Mom is not burdened with remembering to return your dishes.  If you do send dishes you want returned, label them!

4) Make What You Know.  Do not worry if your food is not gourmet, organic perfection.  Anything you do will be a blessing.  Other than steering clear of known allergens, just relax and cook what is easy and natural to you.  Even if all you are able to give is a main course, it is still a big help!

5) Expand The Blessing.  If a family is in a particularly long season of hardship, consider setting up a meal registry such as mealbaby.com or takethemameal.com.  Send out an email to mutual friends inviting them to take part in the blessing.

A Must-Have

 

 

 

I don't remember where it came from, the little tin tucked away on a top shelf that contains the past 10 years in recipes.  I know I didn't buy it, it simply appeared.  My first memory of tucking a scrawled recipe into the tin ocurred in my old apartment - the two bedroom.  In that bright kitchen with the sunshine streaming in, I copied the first few years worth of my  recipes onto 3x5's that had previously resided on scraps of paper tucked between the pages of my well loved Betty Crocker cookbook.  In chocolate smeared disorganization, all my "Must Have's" are all still there.

The best chocolate cake in the world - gleaned from the wisdom of my cousin Mariah.

Mom's chili - and meatloaf, and cheese sauce, and many more besides.

A truly excellent banana bread.


Perfect pancakes

The basic Artisan bread recipes.

The "Jentzen brownies" my sisters and I baked in highschool to lure cute boys over for a visit.

Basic brunch recipes, subject to endless customization.


Many are committed to memory, although I may pull them out to double check an amount (was that 2 cups of flour or 2 1/2?).  Some are rarely used, but always a hit.

Last weekend, as my older brother was visiting, we had a family brunch.  I was given the task of coming up with a coffee cake - one I was glad to take on as baking is my very favorite type of cooking!

I looked around a bit as some fancier recipes, but kept returning to this one from  that dog-eared copy of  Betty Crocker's cookbook of mine.  It's basic, customizable, and absolutely delicious.

So maybe jot this one down on a 3x5 and stick it in your own little recipe tin of must-haves.  I did.

Sour Cream Coffee Cake

3 C all purpose or wheat flour

1 1/2 t baking powder

1 1/2 t baking soda

3/4 t salt

1 1/2 C sugar

3/4 C butter

1 1/2 t vanilla

3 large eggs

1 1/2 C sour cream

Brown Sugar Filling

1/2 C brown sugar

1 1/2 t cinnamon

1/2 C chopped nuts (optional, I left them out)

1.  Heat oven to 350 degrees and grease pan.  I use a 9x13, but an bundt pan would be nice too!

2. Make brown sugar filling, set aside.  Mix flour, baking powder, soda and salt; set aside.

3. Beat sugar, butter, vanilla and eggs with an electric mixer on medium speed 2 minutes.  Mix about 1/4th of the flour mixture and sour cream at a time alternately into sugar mixture on low speed until blended.

4.  For 9x13 pan, spread half the batter into the 9x13, then sprinkle with half the brown sugar filling.  Spread the remaining half over that and sprinkle the top with the remaining filling.  For a bundt pan, spread one third the batter, then one third the filling and repeat twice.

5.  Bake bundt about 1 hour, 9x13 for about 45 minutes or until toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Remove from pan and allow to cool 20 minutes.

There is a glaze that accompanies this recipe to drizzle over top.  I've never made it, but perhaps you might want to?  Here it is:

Vanilla Glaze


1/2 C powdered sugar

1/4 t vanilla

2 to 3 tsp milk

Mix all ingredients until smooth and thin enough to drizzle.


Enjoy!

Soon

"Mama?  Has the stone rolled away yet?"

"No, not yet.  Soon."

"And it's really too big for a man to move, right?  Only God could roll it away?"

"That's right."

"I just can't wait 'til it's rolled away.  Then we can sing Hallelujah!"

"Me too."

40 long days have passed.  We're here, waiting breathlessly for everything to crack wide open, meditating on the mysteries of unfathomable love.


Soon.

{Connected}

"Can I ask you something?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Well, ok.  Why do you bathe the baby in the kitchen sink?  It seems kind of...gross to me."

I could say it's easier on my back.  Or that I'm sure to clean the sink both before and after baby's bath time.  But neither of those things really answer the question.

It's the same with cloth diapering.  Or wearing a baby on my back while hanging clothes up on the line.  It's the same with keeping baby close all night long.

I was bathed in a kitchen sink.  I was carried in a sling and kept close all night.  I'd venture to say that my Mom was too, and probably her Mama before her, in a big farm sink somewhere in the farm country of Michigan.  It's the way my people do it.

When I throw that baby on my back and knead bread, I feel it - that connection with people of the past and future.  I feel very small in a world full of mothers, slinging babies and singing them to sleep, yet I feel important - united with a great web of women from the beginning of time all the way til now, of all nations and faiths and tongues.  Women who grow round with babies inside and respond when someone cries out "Mama!"  Women who work all day long with a little one tugging on their hair and blowing raspberries.  Women who hold the weight of this world firmly on their shoulders, yet can come undone in the quiet moments when a tiny new soul looks up into their eyes and smiles from deep within.

Women who nurture, women who care, women who work, hard, all day long.  Women who love with such a deep and abiding love that the whole world marvels at the sight.  I think about them as the day drags on and he snores gentle from back there in the carrier, completely contented, completely warm, completely loved.  Complete.

There is no one way to mother.  Breast vs bottle, crib vs co sleep, these things don't matter in the grand scheme of things.  Not a bit.  We're all connected, no matter where you bathe your baby.  Some Mamas plunk their babies right down in a watering trough, or at the edge of a muddy stream.  Some women let their babies roam naked and sling them right up on their backs with a bit of brightly colored cloth.  I happen to prefer a sink and an Ergo.  Everyone parents the way that feels natural and normal to them.  Any woman who holds the light of child's soul in her heart is a Mother.

He slaps the water and yelps when it splashes in his eyes.  "Mamamamamama!!!" he exclaims, loudly, all smiles and drool and gooey baby goodness.  I wrap him up in a soft white towel and fluff his wet curls.

We're connected.  Us, who are doing the shaping?  Who pour love on thick so that these little sprouts grow up strong and confident?  What we do matters.  

"It's not what we do, but how much love we put in the doing..."  

~Mother Teresa

I bathe my babies in the kitchen sink because, when I do, I feel a part of this living, breathing organism that is the human race.  Tiny on this big blue and green ball hanging just so in this galaxy.  When I hold him close afterward, swaying and humming him off to dreamland, I know I'm touching the future - his, his children, their children.  On and on.

I pat his back and his eyelids flicker shut, stretched out on the bed.  Slowly I turn toward the door and walk away.  This world is a whirling dervish and if I blink twice, he'll be grown - walking away from me.  But I'll have left my mark.

Hoping to make it one of pure Mother-love.