The Rich Get Their Ice....

....in the summer and the poor get theirs in the winter."  --Laura Ingalls Wilder

Now we are neither rich nor are we poor.  But I finally got the walk-in deep freeze that I've been wanting.  It's called my back porch.  Yesterday it was a balmy 62 degrees but Mother Nature fixed that.  It's now set at 5 degrees Fahrenheit.  Welcome to Nebraska, world's largest walk-in deep freeze.

Size Matters

What is size, anyway?  Size is weight, girth, height.  It's a number that manufacturers put on their clothes so that we women know what to try on when we go to the store.  Size can affect a mom's self-esteem.  Size matters.

I'm not going to tell you what size I am now.  I will tell you that I am in the biggest size of jeans that I've ever worn, but it's not a huge issue for me.  I'll admit that I'm not thrilled with the size I am now, but I'm not all torn up about it, either.  I've had five kids in eight years and now I'm bigger than I was when this whole hormonal baby-bearing pregnant nursing pregnant nursing pregnant nursing ... pregnant nursing ... pregnant nursing thing started.  You know what?  I'd do it again.  As my French speaking husband would say--or at least I wish he would speak French more and whisper French nothings into my ear--C'est la vie.  (Translation: that is life.) French matters.  (this is the part where you laugh at me)

Lerin posted a link one time that really helped me get a grip on the emotions surrounding my mother-body.  It is The Shape of a Mother.  No, I have not had the guts to post pictures there, but I encourage you to make a visit because it made me feel normal. Normal matters.

Our hype.rse.xed society tells us that women look most beautiful when they're a size 0 like the cocaine driven bulimic smoking anorexic pouting supermodels who are always hungry and have cosmetic surgery and don't have babies.  For some women, small is a normal state.  Most of us find ourselves well beyond a 0 or a 2 ... especially if we've had kids.  I'm not a size 0, and I have curves, even if they are in places that I'd rather not have them in.  Curves matter.

I like having size.  As most moms do, I've got ample size, curves, and ... stretch marks and saggy skin.  Oh well.  I've got a happy face on my abdomen that says I've had five cesareans.  I've got an apron of skin on my tummy that says I had five healthy pregnancies.  I've got twenty pounds that say I'm still breastfeeding a baby.  People who lose weight while nursing can kiss.... In the last 10 years, I've gained 55 pounds, lost 40, gained 15, lost 20, gained 10, lost 20, gained 25, lost 20, gained 35, and lost 15.  That's a heck of a workout for a body!  As for size, if I was a size 2 when we got married, I was a size 6 after Morgan was born, then down to a size 0 after Noah, and now am back up to a size 6 or 8, depending on what brand of jeans I put on.  You realize that these are not true sizes, yes?  The last time I was a size 0 was NEVER ... and I've never been smaller than a real size 8.  I'm just doing the addition for you.  My tummy is pudgy, my thighs are healthy, and my rear end is a bit curvier than I wish it was.  My surgeon says my stomach muscles are shot.  He said he tried to rescue my self esteem body and sew them back together but they wouldn't cooperate.  Translation: I'll look five months pregnant for the rest of my life. But I can get pregnant easily.  Fertility matters!

My girlfriends and I talk and joke about size regularly.  Know what else?  We eat Oreos together sometimes, drink sugary sweet sweaty cold soda together, and have a latte occasionally.  We've been known to have seconds on pig-in-a-blankets and Doritos.  Some of us have even eaten a whole bag of caramel popcorn or a whole package of powdered donuts while e-mailing the other girls to complain about jeans being too tight.  It's a running joke!  The nice thing about my girlfriends is that no one blows sunshine at anyone else.  When we complain to one another, we're looking for sympathy, laughter, and understanding, not reassurance.  I don't want my friend Jane to tell me, "Oh, you look great, you're so skinny and I bet those jeans are only a size six ... you couldn't be an inch past that!"  Ugh.  I think if she said that to me, I would throw up.  Instead, I want her to say, "Oh girl, I know.  I had two helpings of Chinese food last night and it didn't make me any skinnier either."  Honesty matters.


I'm at a place where I'm okay with my body ... for now.  I realize that this childbearing things is not going to end anytime soon.  I realize that depriving myself of fats and calories is not good for me or my baby at this point in time.  I realize that I can limit my portions.  I realize that I can limit my sugar, but where's the fun in that? Okay, I do limit a little.  I don't have treats unless I'm really craving them, don't usually have dessert, and have smaller portions when I do eat.  If I'm not hungry, I don't eat.  If I feel full, I stop, even if that means wasting a little food that's left on my plate.  I eat breakfast sometimes.  I exercise and am not a couch potato.  Why?  I want to be healthy.  Health matters. 

Size matters, and so does being comfortable with my size, for now.  I don't obsess over it, and the only reason I'm writing this post today is because I'm bored out of my mind.

Do leave a thought or two for me to ponder, won't you?

Boys for Sale

I am offering two little boys for sale.  Both are adorable, have blond hair, blue eyes, are of Czech and German ancestry, were breastfed, and have all their shots.  Both are baptized Roman Catholics.  Both are named, but they don't respond to them anyway, so you could change that.

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The six year old would make a good only-child.  He does not play well with people to whom he is related.  He is good at repeating himself; would make a good son for someone who is hard of hearing.  He asks questions all day long and is in need of constant attention.  He does not like to go to the basement by himself.  He would make a good burglar alarm, for his vocal chords can emit the highest pitch of scream you desire.  He is toilet trained.  He loves babies.  He thinks the back of the bathtub is a water slide.  He likes to clean the kitchen table, but not his bedroom.  He does not like to hang up clothes and therefore would not need a closet; he could live out of a laundry basket.  He is halfway through kindergarten and will attend full time school next year.  He loves camping, fishing, and the great outdoors, especially if there are things to be burned, bones to be found, horses to feed, or insects to be caught. 

The three year old would make a good companion for someone--with or without a stool--who has trouble reaching the topmost cupboards.  He would also make a good companion for someone who cannot open a bottle or can of soda.  He is a good climber, a good jumper, a quick runner, and likes to get his way.  He is quite contrary but quickly changes his opinion if the adult agrees with his contradiction.  One must use reverse psychology to work with him, and must make everything a contest.  He enjoys finger painting with chocolate Malt-O-Meal and enjoys giving his guys baths in breakfast cereal and milk.  He will need his shoes to be superglued to his feet because he can never find them.  He is mostly toilet trained ... when he wants to be.  He tends to omit the first sound of an S word.  For example, he says kittles for Skittles, mash for smash, pider for spider, pell for smell, and tack for snack.  He laughs when he farts, and, amidst the giggles, asks, "what's that pell?"  He prefers tacks (snacks) to meals, and is able to dig sweets out of the cupboard without the help of an adult.  He prefers walking to riding in a cart, and is happiest when he is the center of attention.  He likes to be tickled and wrestled with.  He pokes babies' eyes.  He loves to take baths and does not fear water.  He loves to be outdoors.  He loves horses, Star Wars, and dogs.

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Prices are $6 for the six year old, $3 for the three year old, cash only.  All sales are final.  We cannot accept returns.  We might barter a trade for a little girl or two.

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Hurry, supplies are limited!  Order now to have them shipped to you by Christmas!

Frozen Food

I brought this box home from Sam's Club.  I'll admit that frozen cat doesn't top my list for yummy things to eat at Christmas time.  Is this a new delicacy?

Tent #2

Start with a twin size flat sheet; they're $3.50 at Wal-Mart.

The sheet comes in its own little bag; save it for a mailbox.

Measure off two squares; one in each corner on the same side of the sheet.  You'll want to measure up approximately 27-33 inches; the height of the table.  Trace the squares with a piece of chalk or washable marker.

Cut out the squares.

You should end up with a shape like this.

Drape it over a card table so you can see how it will fit, and so you can figure out which sides to sew together.

Match the corners, decide which side will be the inside of the tent, sew the seam to the inside, start at the BOTTOM of the sheet so it's all the same height. 

Drape it over the table again, figure out the next seam.

Sew, sew, sew!

You'll end up with corners that look at bit like this.  I had to shorten the tent by about four inches after I had finished.

Pin the corners as if you're wrapping a gift.

Sew down one side, then with the needle down, turn the fabric and sew along the other side.  I used what's called a stretch stitch so that it would be extra strong.

You'll end up with something that looks like this.

You could sew one of the cut-out corners on to the front as part of the door, but I prefer to choose another pretty fabric to spice it up a bit.  Sew it to the underside of the front seam, in the empty spot.

Sew the other panel on, START AT THE BOTTOM, and they'll meet in the middle with an opening.

Sew the sheet's bag onto the front, along the top (strong) seam.  I used iron-on letters for this.

I cut out a window that is not pictured, sewed ribbon around the edges of the inside and the outside to strengthen the window, then sewed a curtain (matching the funky door fabric) for it and attached it.  I also added ribbon on the orange side of the door because my goddaughter's favorite color is yellow (but there were no yellow sheets).  I also ironed her name above the doorway.  She has brothers to keep away, after all.

I ironed her name onto a bag that I made out of one of the cut-out corners.  I threaded rainbow ribbon through the top of the bag; it ties in a bow to secure the bag.

7 Quick Takes Friday

Visit Jennifer at Conversion Diary to read her Quick Takes and those of other bloggers!

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1.  I've been a busy bee, working on making Christmas gifts rather than shopping.  It is so much more rewarding!  I'm eager to give them to the recipients!  We keep Christmas gift giving simple on both sides of the family; siblings do not exchange Christmas gifts, and it is not necessary to give gifts to nieces and nephews (although a godparent to godchild gift is common among aunts & uncles).  We give three gifts to our children because Jesus received three gifts at his birth.  They each receive one photo book, a compilation of the year's memories.  We give them one Christmas ornament, and they receive one toy.  It's so easy to remember, such an easy tradition to remember.  It takes a lot of stress out of wondering what to give them.  We try not to emphasize gifts or Santa around Christmas because we want our children to remember that--brace yourself for a cliche--Jesus is the reason for the season. 

2.  I do send gifts to my goddaughters (Christmas and birthday).  I wish I were as good as my friends; they remember to have Masses offered for their godchildren, remember their feast days, baptismal dates, etc., and I haven't gotten there yet although I firmly intend to.  I do pray for them every day, but I'd like to get better about remembering other details.  Our older goddaughter Kaylee will receive first Holy Communion this year! 

3.  Speaking of goddaughters, this is my little Goddaughter (and also my youngest cousin) Genevieve.  Man, she is adorable.  She was home with her mother for a visit last week and we got to spend a little time together.  What a pleasure!

4.  There's a trend I've noticed lately.  My friend Megan had three boys and recently gave birth to twins: a boy and a GIRL ... my friend Staci has three girls and recently gave birth to a BOY ... my friend Sarah has three girls and a boy and found out that #5 (on the way) is a BOY ... my friend Jen (yep, you, Texas) has three girls and recently found out that #4 (on the way) is a BOY ... now my other friend Jen is pregnant with #6 and has four girls and a boy.  Will her boy get a brother?  We'll find out in March! 

5.  Colleen has a baby on the way!!!!!  So does Allison!  And Jennifer!  Sarah, too!  And Aimee!  And these are just blogger buddies ... I know many women now who are expecting babies and it's such a wonderful state of joy for me to share.  My daughter Morgan asked me why we haven't been to a wedding and I laughed, then replied that most people we know are married already and are having babies.  And not just first babies ... fifth and sixth babies!  Oh, for the love of life!

6.  It bothers me when people say, "I literally laughed my head off!"  Really?  How did those amazing doctors sew it back on?  How is it you're able to post on Facebook?

7.  I'm out of stuff to say.  The stuff I've got to say is not that interesting anyway.  Does anyone have any burning questions that I could answer?  Or you could make me laugh.  I love to laugh.  Leave me a comment, eh?

Hi on Wednesday

I'm still here!

Friday Laugh

My husband send this to me via e-mail.  I laughed so hard that I cried.  Enjoy!

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From the "U.S. Venison Council"

Controversy has long raged about the relative quality and taste of venison and beef as gourmet foods. Some people say venison is tough, with a strong "wild" taste, others insist venison's flavor is delicate. An independent food research group was retained by the Venison Council to conduct a taste test to determine the truth of these conflicting assertions once and for all.

First, a Grade A Choice Holstein steer was chased into a swamp a mile and a half from a road and shot several times. After some of the entrails were removed, the carcass was dragged back over rocks and logs and through mud and dust to the road. It was then thrown into the back of a pickup truck and driven through rain and snow for 100 miles before being hung out in the sun for a day.

It was then lugged into a garage where it was skinned and rolled around on the floor for a while. Strict sanitary precautions were observed throughout the test, within the limitations of the butchering environment. For instance, dogs and cats were allowed to sniff and lick the steer   carcass, but most of the time they were chased away when they attempted to bite chunks out of it.

Next, a sheet of plywood left from last year's butchering was set up in the basement on two saw horses. The pieces of dried blood, hair and fat left from last year were scraped off with a wire brush last used to clean out the grass stuck under the lawn mower.

The skinned carcass was then dragged down the steps into the basement where a half dozen inexperienced but enthusiastic and intoxicated men worked on it with meat saws, cleavers, hammers and dull knives. The result was 375 pounds of soup bones, four bushel baskets of meat scraps, and a couple of steaks that were an eighth of an inch thick on one edge and an inch and a half thick on the other edge.

The steaks were seared on a glowing red hot cast iron skillet to lock in the flavor. When the smoke cleared, rancid bacon grease was added, along with three pounds of onions, and the whole conglomeration was fried for two hours.

The meat was gently teased from the frying pan and served to three intoxicated and blindfolded taste panel volunteers. Every member of the panel thought it was venison. One volunteer even said it tasted exactly like the venison he has eaten in hunting camps for the past 27 years

The results of this scientific test conclusively show that there is no difference between the taste of beef and venison...

Table Tent

I have a beautiful little 18 month old goddaughter.  Using a suggestion from my friend Staci, I formulated my own method of making a table tent.  The idea is to use a table rather than poles (which can be used as swords).  The table is always there, and kids always want to throw a blanket (or seven) over it to make their own cave or tent.  Noah calls his the man-cave.  Hee hee.  So I practiced a couple of times using old sheets from Salvation Army, and it turned out pretty well.  Ready for a good effort, I bought a brand new twin sized sheet from Wal-Mart, some ribbon and buttons, and got busy.  This is what I came up with, by trial and error (cover the error with pretty ribbon) in one day's work:

Measuring a small card table, I cut two corners out of the sheet.

I sewed it all together, then cut out a window.  To make the window stronger (the window on our trial tent ripped the first day), I added ribbon and extra stitching.  I had a pretty curtain made for it, but I sewed it on backward, so I pulled it halfway up and sewed it in place.

I sewed green ribbons up from the base of the tent and hand sewed daisy buttons on the tops of the ribbons.

I could have made the front of the tent with orange fabric, but I thought that adding the flower fabric as one half of the door made it a little prettier.

I made it a little long, because the card table I used was smaller; I figured it would be better to have a tent that was a little too big rather than one that measured too small when my beautiful little goddaughter took it home for her own card table.

With one of the square of fabric that I cut out, I fashioned a simple bag.  I put ribbon through the neck of it so that it could be tightened.  The ribbon can be tied in a bow to fasten it.

The tent can be folded and placed in the bag with plenty of room left over for other things.  Voila!

After everything was finished, I had this much fabric left over from the twin sized sheet.  This is fabric I cut from the window and replaced with flowered fabric, so theoretically, the whole sheet could be used in the making of a table tent.  And why would I spend $30 on yards of fabric when I could spend $2.50 on a sheet at Wal-Mart that has finished edges? 

Diction 101

There is no R in the word wash.  There is no X in the word especially.  There is no X in the word espresso.

Monday

I really did send this e-mail to my dad this afternoon:

Hi, Dad
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Want to laugh?  This morning, I went down to the laundry room (Starbucks in hand) determined to make some headway.  I folded two loads, washed two, folded another one, sorted the piles that came down, and tripped over a storage tote behind me.  I had three storage totes on top of a newly-placed table in the corner, and three beneath it.  They're all full of the kids' out-of-season or outgrown clothing.  I picked up this storage tote, pushed over the pile of clothes that are sitting there waiting to be sorted, and shoved it back into the corner.  My wedding dress was hanging on the bar overhead, so I couldn't see what was back there.  All of a sudden, I heard a sound much like a waterfall.  Apparently, there's a lever back there that releases lots of water.  Can you imagine what happened?  The clothes are soaked, there's water in the totes, water all over me, water splashing everywhere, and the three year old standing behind me saying, "Mama, what's that noise?  Ooh, water!"  I am happy to announce that the sump pump sits right beneath this newfound water spout.  I turned off the water and started laughing.  What else is there to do?
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I tried to take that approach when I cleaned paint off of the stove, chair, floor, and Isaiah.  That's what I get for getting out the paint to touch up walls and leaving the lid off of the can while I put Maria down for her nap while Isaiah was finishing his lunch ... or so I thought.
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So this afternoon, in order to avoid dealing with the laundry room mess, I decided to hem curtains that needed to be shortened.  I sewed twenty feet of hem, then the bobbin ran out ... four inches away from the finish line.  So I move the empty bobbin to the top of the machine and start the thread, and stop, realizing that the bobbin isn't threading properly.  I roll that thread off the bobbin and throw it away.  I do this two more times before I plop down in my chair and wonder what on earth is wrong with my machine.  I reach for the phone to call my friend Staci to ask her what the heck is wrong with my machine, because it couldn't possibly be a human error.  It is then that I remember that she's probably napping since she has a newborn.  I stare at the machine and wonder what Staci would probably ask me.  "How's your tension?"  I shake my head and roll my eyes at myself, wind the thread around the tension screw and make a perfect bobbin.  I place the refilled bobbin, rethread the machine, start sewing, and proceed to sew the curtain to the foot of the sewing machine.  Dad, I couldn't have done this on purpose.  I started cussing when I realized that out of the three seam rippers that I own, I cannot find one.  Not one.  Not even the one I used fifteen minutes earlier to thread the bobbin when I began sewing.  *sigh*  
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Go ahead now, have a laugh.  That's what I'm doing.  I can't believe how pathetic this is!
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As I type this message, iTunes started playing Find the River so I know it'll be okay.  It makes laughing easier.
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I'm going to go back and finish those stupid curtains now.

Love,

Your #1 daughter

7 Quick Takes Friday

 

Visit Jennifer at Conversion Diary to read her Quick Takes and those of other bloggers!

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1.  Attention all dog owners: I have bought a bag of Beggin' Strips, hot dogs, and a bag of some generic doggie treats.  Every time I walk into the backyard, take out the trash, walk by a yard in the neighborhood, make a slight move on my back porch, or walk by a car with a dog in it, the dog barks to let me know that I am not welcome there.  The dog is not saying hello.  Believe me, I can tell.  Well, I'm fed up.  So when a dog barks at me, I'm going to feed it a lot of food.  I hope your dogs like exercise.

2.  Attention drivers: This is how you use a roundabout.  You enter, yielding only to the cars already in the roundabout.  Don't wave people ahead, don't hesitate, don't cut off the car already in the intersection.  As you approach your exit, you signal right, briefly.  This helps traffic flow smoothly.  Ditto the interstate--you do NOT signal when you are merging onto the interstate, you signal when you are changing lanes and when you exit.  I know, because that's the one question I missed on my written driver's test 18 years ago.

3.  Each time we have a new baby, we buy a new crib mattress.  Here are three uses for old crib mattresses: give them to your boys to slide down the basement stairs; put a plain sheet on them and let the kids lay on them in the living room for a sick day, quiet time, or family movie night; let boys use them as trampolines.

4.  When my doctor recommends Benadryl for a child, he reminds me that it'll make the child sleepy, then acts like that's a bad thing.  He had 12 kids.  He should be telling me what the maxiumum dose is and how often I can administer this magic medicine in a day. 
 ::(For those of you aren't familiar with my very dry sense of humor: ha ha ha ha ha ha I'm joking)::

5.  We've begun the Advent tradition of a Jesse Tree.  More on that later.

6.  President Obama wants to freeze the pay of all federal employees for two years.  I have a better idea: cut the golden parachutes for all members of congress, stop sending foreign aid temporarily while we get out of debt, STOP THE WAR, use the money from the sale of Iraq's oil to rebuild their country, stop showering stimulus money on everyone, don't pay for people's new houses, new cars, and energy efficient appliances, and quit building bridges to nowhere in Podunk Alaska.  Really.  Thanks a lot for the tax on federal employees.  Pull your head out of your armpit. 

7.  Jeremy and I are going out on a date tonight!  Dinner and a movie!

Two on One Time

My girlfriends and I have wondered often how, in a large family, parents can devote quality time to a single child.  It seems impossible sometimes to fit into what can be a rather hectic day-to-day routine.  How would we devote time to one child while keeping the rest busy?  Peace and quiet never lasts more than fifteen minutes here.  Someone hit someone else, someone hurt their elbow, someone needs their rear end wiped, the baby needs to be held. 

It is easier to fit in one-on-one time with a child.  Jeremy will take Noah on his hardware store errands, include him in the handyman jobs he does around the house.  A child will help me stir this or that for supper or baking, there is homework time and craft time, sometimes.  Morgan likes to help me give Maria a bath.  If I take Maddie to a doctor's appointment solo, we'll stop afterward for a treat before we come home.  But this is all while the other parent is handling the other four children.  We do spend quality time with our children, as a family.  We go to the park, we'll start a fire pit fire in the backyard and roast hot dogs, we go to Grandpa and Grandma's house.  We pray together every night, and Jeremy reads to the children after prayers.  But how do we get both parents with one child for quality time without having to find a sitter five times a month?

Aside: an argument that I often hear in favor of small families is the amount of attention the children will get.  These naysayers think that an only child (or two children) will get much more attention than a child who belongs to a bigger family (four +).  You know what?  That's a load of baloney.  A mother of twelve pointed out to our bible study that older siblings give so much to their younger siblings.  Having Maria has proved this to me.  The girl so much as whimpers, and she's got a crowd of four people around her entertaining her, helping her out of whatever pickle she got herself into, bringing her toys, picking her up, or goofing around to make her giggle.  When she wakes up in the morning, Morgan is eager to go get her out of bed which allows me another half hour to sleep!  I don't ask her to do it; she asks me if she can.  And if I go get Maria out of bed, Morgan pouts because she didn't get to do it.  After school, the kids clamor for her attention, argue over whose turn it is to talk to her, hand her a toy, chase her around the living room, or entertain her.  I do not think that this baby, #5, is lacking for attention.  Au contraire!

Our pastor answered this for another mother in our bible study during spiritual direction.  He said that it is indeed important for a child to have one on two time with his or her parents.  She asked him how to manage this (he understands large families well, being one of 9 and having many sisters with many children).  He said that once a month, a child gets to stay up past bedtime, maybe 15 minutes, maybe 30 minutes, with both parents after the other children have gone down.  Oh!

So how do we keep track of this simply?  The schedule could be complicated or easy to forget.  The solution (my idea, thanks) is that the child stays up later with us on his birthday date.  For example, Morgan's birthday falls on the 10th.  Each month, she will stay up late on the 10th.  Isaiah on the 11th, Madeleine on the 16th, Noah on the 6th, and when Maria is old enough, the 19th.  Luckily, they all have different birthday dates. 

We've talked to the children about this idea and they are eager to begin.  Last time, Morgan wanted to look through her baby book and at pictures of her when she was little.  Madeleine wanted the same.  Noah wants to do that, and his day comes up Monday (so we'll have time with him Sunday since Monday night is full).  Morgan has plans for her next anniversary; we're going to work on the chemistry crystal set that she's been asking about for a year.  Madeleine wants a back massage with my LUSH massage bar.  Noah wants to build stuff with us the time after next, although I bet we can squeeze baby pictures and building into one session.  We will talk, we'll have popcorn.  Maybe we'll watch a nature show together, maybe read a book.  Maybe we'll do a craft together, maybe we'll just sit and cuddle. 

I thought I'd share this with you parents who are wondering the same thing!