Help! My Hair is Falling Out!

The third child in and I am no longer afraid that I am going to go bald postpartum.  I can't say the same for my postpartum with the older two.  We hear that hormones play a part in obtaining thick and long hair during pregnancy, but that it will all fall out come postpartum.  Hair (and nails) are considered fast-generating cells, but hair is not exactly fast-growing/fast-generating in pregnancy if you consider that its growth and generation is through cycles.  If you want to read of these cycles, you can do so by clicking here.  The hair is thicker because it is not being shed.  So, in fact, its growth cycle is not generating fast because parts of the cycle are missing.  This is not to confuse each individual's rate of strand growth -- some people have hair that grows faster than others, which is controlled by certain hormones not exclusive to maintaining pregnancy.  The hormones that are needed in pregnancy also have a job in the fast-generating cycle of hair.  Hair doesn't normally grow through a follicle that is already taken up.  If hair doesn't leave the follicle (like in pregnancy) it won't cycle new hair growth.  The fast-turning for fast-growing cycle is missing parts for other temporary, and more important, reasons controlled by hormones.  In pregnancy, the body naturally and charitably trades the balance of hormones needed for self's fast-generating cells into a balance to fast-grow a baby.  When that process is complete, as true to the laws of weights and balance tuning with homeostasis, the body requires all that was borrowed to be repayed.  Hence, the postpartum shedding of your hair is the extremity of the fast-growing cycle of these cells, as the body's hormones teeter to the other end and finally balance.  What you see is hair that goes through the cycle faster than normal, to make up for the lack of cycle it had in pregnancy.  Of course this means fast shedding, as shedding is part of the cycle.

With the first two, I tried many things to slow the cycle down a bit.  This time around I've kept it simple.  I take solace in the fact that for every strand that falls out of the follicle, there should be a new hair in its place.  You are not going to go bald.  It's just that more hair strands than normal are going through the cycle faster than normal because scarcely any strands went through the cycle in the months prior.  A couple of things to remember:

Don't get a perm.  I thought it would make my hair look thicker.  However, common sense tells anyone that chemicals only aid in killing.  

No need for Nioxin.  I tried this with the first two.  It does aim to manipulate the growth a bit, but it is still filled with chemicals.  You can use other topicals that are cheaper.  

Do keep the follicles clean.  This means actually cleaning your hair.  I know, I know -- handling it in water makes you nervous because of all the strands that fall out.  Raw apple cider vinegar scalp rubs also will do the trick to clean clogged follicles.  

Do brush your hair.  This alone needs a balance.  You don't want to tug unnecessarily, which will agitate hair loss.  At the same time, you don't want dreadlocks.  I brush once a day with a bristle brush.  The bristles will help transfer the natural oil that sits on the scalp down to the strands for protection against the elements.  These brushses will also help remove points of breakage and split ends.  

Do promote scalp circulation.  One method of Nioxin's formula is to promote circulation, which promotes fast growth.  Without the cost and chemicals, you can achieve this effect through some essential oils.  Good ones are peppermint and rosemary.  Lavendar is great for relaxation -- it has had reports of being a good hair oil, possibly urging the fast cycle's shedding to relax a bit.  I also use coconut oil once a week for general hair health.

Don't strip the hair.  I did this with getting highlights soon after Amira -- bleach will strip, as we know.  This is more often accomplished in our daily shampooing, and also with the type of shampoo we use. Though you want to keep the follicles clean of build-up, you do need the oils for protection of the strands.  Again, there must be a balance.  I let water touch my hair every other day, sometimes a day extra.  I also don't use a sulfate shampoo, unless it is a coconut sulfate.  Simply put, sulfate is a degreaser.  It's that stuff that makes Dawn dishsoap a miracle worker on your pots and pans; but Dawn also makes your hands need lotion.  Sulfates strip...a little too well.

As with all things we aim to fix, the best fights are internal.  The B-vitamins in your prenatals are almost all of the help your body is going to allow.  This is because this isn't a fight.  Postpartum isn't chemo.  It is simply just the body's way of balance and cycles.  

Winter Meals: Cutting the Cost

It feels like our family is continuously in a process of change -- the most recent was the step-parent adoption of my husband to my elder 2 children.  This, on top of a new baby, on top of the winter months that result in a heating expense, meant I had to cut the cost of some things.  Last month I was so shocked at how much we were able to cut our food bill down, without cutting down our standards.  Our family was fed for $500 in groceries.  The month prior we were pushing $700.  The savings came by simple switches and willingness to labor over meals -- no more Trader Joe's frozen meals.  I didn't use coupons.  Though as much as I would like to coupon-cut, I don't see myself having the time or memory over what coupons I have vs. what to buy.  I also found that when I did briefly attempt to use coupons, I would purchase things that I wouldn't otherwise buy just because of the deal that came with the coupon.  It didn't work in my favor.  Here are some of the simple ways you can save on your grocery bill without coupons, while still purchasing real food.

Organic produce -- Does it matter?  Yes!  Then again I weighed out what could be purchased conventional or even frozen organic rather than fresh organic before just going all organic.  If it grows within the ground, is porous, is leafy, or the outside gets consumed, I purchase it organic.  If it has a peel that is not eaten, I will go non-organic only if the price is a major difference.  In some cases, I switched to frozen organic fruits and vegetables to save on costs on the items out of season -- this beats paying $6 a pint of blueberries.  I also switched what we were buying.  For instance, bell peppers are expensive, carrots are cheap.  I go with recipes that use carrots more than bell peppers.  

Bread.  Between challah, bowls, and rolls, I did a lot of making my own breads.  Unfortunately, the cost and handling of gluten-free meant that I had to switch to an all-purpose flour; however, you can choose an unbromated/non-brominated all-purpose flour, which is still lower in cost and better for you.  I still must purchase loaves of bread to make Brant's sandwiches for work.  You can get plenty of day (or so) old loaves from the local grocer's bakery at a huge discount.  I check the ingredients, because bakery fresh does not equal higher quality most of the time.  I actually go for the Country Oven loaves from Fred Meyer when they are 3 or so days away from expiration.  They sell for $.79/loaf near expiration, and are really decent ingredients. I'll get multiple loaves and freeze them.

Protein.  It's a must, but know that a proper balanced diet is not a high-protein diet.  That being said, I'll add a protein to each meal, but greatly saved on grocery costs by having that predominately be a plant protein.  I don't mean soy neither -- I can't have soy because of my daughter's allergies to it.  For instance, we used to purchase Greek yogurt for our morning smoothies, but have now taken out the yogurt ($5 a large container that serves 4) and replaced it with hemp protein ($11 a tub with significantly more servings).  Beans were a major part of our diet already, and average $1 a can of organic stuff.  I went a step further in savings by buying dry beans from the bulk section (quite a bit are organic) and throwing them into the crock pot instead.  Canned salmon (as opposed to canned tuna) is also budget-friendly, without the added unnecessary ingredients nor higher mercury.  You'd be surprised at how many canned fish recipes you can find.

Snacks.  I have kids, a laboring husband, and I'm a nursing mother.  Our family needs snacks.  I already knew it is more cost efficient to mix your own trail mix -- trail mix being a healthy balanced snack of carbs, fats, and proteins.  Yet, I don't mix my own anymore, because Trader Joe's has trail mixes for as low as $3.99 a bag that will generously give Brant a snack for 4 days.  Other snack switches we made:  baking our own cookies (and other baked goods) from scratch, Costco's organic animal crackers, sunflower seeds, frozen fruit smoothies, tortilla chips with homemade hummus (garbanzo beans were bought dry and home cooked for cost, of course), old fashioned popcorn popped in a pot.

Carbs.  I switched from yellow and red potatoes to russet and sweet -- still organic, since they are ground vegetables.  They are cheaper for the amount you get.  These winter months mean that I can make plenty of soups and chowders with the potatoes.  Then you have mashed potatoes, scalloped potatoes, roasted potatoes, baked potatoes, etc.  It doesn't have to be boring.  Rice remained the same at a brown organic rice.  I get mine from Costco, or even the grocer's bulk section would have better prices with the option for organic.  Rice is not bad for you.  You just have to know what you are getting.  White calrose rice, or glutinous rice (the bulk bags in Asian writing) are bad for you.  Risottos make a budget-friendly lunch and/or dinner.

Dairy.  You should already know that the block is cheaper than a bag.  Most of your popular block cheeses are the same cost, but the softer cheeses spread more when melted (like in quesadillas or grilled cheese).  This means you can use less.  So we go with a softer cheese, like mozarella or monterey jack.  

Pastas.  Most people throw extra spices into their spaghetti sauce anyway, so you might as well try to save on the sauce cost by watering down tomato paste instead, and season from there.  For other non-spaghetti pastas, vinegar and oil go a long way. 

The biggest savings came when we switched the type of meals we ate.  If you make separate courses in one meal it will be more expensive.  If you look for ways to combine the courses into one dish, you will save.  Our dinners were in the form of a baked casserole, a stovetop risotto or pasta, or a crockpot soup or chowder.  Try it!  It's the perfect time of the year for these types of meals and the massive savings.    

Vegan Sweet Potato Latkes

This season is the first time I tried vegan latkes since adopting a vegan diet in 2006.  I have just heard too many failed recipes with the egg substitutes in latkes, and have learned myself that substituting egg on a stovetop dish mostly results in a flop.  You can manipulate the binding and rising really well in the oven, but that immediate bond is needed for the stovetop.  I looked at 2 different recipes to see how they were coming up with this bond and mixed what worked well for me, and realized the flour used helps a great deal in the bonding.  In mine, I used oat flour -- I think of mushy and sticky oatmeal -- because it is what I had in the house.  However, I am sure that brown rice flour would work equally well.  I would be leery on all-purpose or any other flour from a non-sticky grain, unless you want to use the recipe with eggs instead.  Here is what I came up with:

• 3 small to medium sweet potatoes
• 1 lengthy carrot
• 3 bundles green onions
• 1/2 cup oat flour (or brown rice)
• 2 flax egg substitute (2 tbsps flax, 1 tsp baking soda, 6 tbsps water)
• Grated ginger to taste
• Salt and pepper to taste

Mix the flax egg substitute first, then set aside.  Shred sweet potatoes and carrots.  Remove water by taking handfuls of shreds with a good hand squeezing before tossing into a mixing bowl.  Chop green onions and add into mixing bowl.  Add flour and egg substitute.  Grate ginger to taste.  If you want these ingredients to stick together you have be willing to get your hands dirty.  I don't even own a mixer -- I always mix by hand, but this recipe especially needs the flour to imprint into the shreds.  A simple mechanical mixing will not do.  You will have to do a hand tossing and squeezing to ensure the flour and egg has bonded tightly to the potato and carrot shreds.  

Heat vegetable oil in a skillet over medium to medium-high heat.  I used coconut oil instead, which really complimented the flavors.  Potatoes need time to cook, hence a typical fry (quick high heat) won't be sufficient.  I turn it on medium to cook the potatoes properly, and at the final minutes put the heat higher for the crispiness of a fried food.  Cook until browned on each side.  Dash salt and pepper to taste in serving.  These latkes are very flavorful and can be eaten without a topping.  Happy Chanukah!

Eggless (Water) Chamorro Challah

I have eaten predominately vegan for over 8 years now.  More recently the only time I will venture outside of veganism is for the occasional fatty fish.  I started as a temporary fix for health concerns, but then loved it and stuck with it ever since.  I truly do not enjoy the feel of flesh between my teeth, not to mention how much it weighs me down.  I already have sensitives to lactose, never did like milk even in my youth, and now my nursing daughter cannot have any dairy, so dairy-free dieting is not a challenge neither.  I cannot stand the smell of eggs, and can even smell and taste it in baked goods.  Oh but I love a good bread, and so after tweeking other recipes I have tried, I've come up with a good water challah recipe that meets the sweet Hawaiian bread of my culture.  I call it my Chamorro Challah.

• 1 packet dry yeast
• 1 cup sink-hot water
• 1/4 cup coconut sugar
• 4 cups flour (I like to mix all-purpose and oat flour, oat flour will do more of a 'sweet' bread)
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 3 tablespoons flax meal
• 3 additional tablespoons water
• 2 tablespoons softened or melted coconut oil
• pinch of salt

Mix first three ingredients into a bowl and set aside.  Mix remainder dry ingredients (flours, baking powder, flax meal, salt) into a large bowl.  Add additional water and oil to mix.  Add yeast mix last.  The yeast mixture should be fizzy by the time you add it.  FYI, the flax meal and additional water cannot be cheated out of this recipe, these and the baking powder are an egg replacer.  If you omit, you must use another egg replacer (like oil/water mix)

I mix and roll the dough with my own hands until the bowl is clean of flour and residues.  Rub coconut oil throughout the mixing bowl, and roll the ball of dough around the bowl (to spread and transfer the coconut oil).  This is to prevent excessive sticking to the bowl and excessively stickly dough.

Let rise for up to 3 hours, depending on where you let it sit.  The dough should expand to the perimeter of your mixing bowl and raise at least double its size before you form it.

When dough has risen, divide into at least 3 parts, depending on how you want to braid the challah.  Roll each part to lengthen and braid, pinching the ends.  I make 2 braided challah loaves with the recipe above.  Let rise for another 30-60 minutes.

Bake for 20 minutes at 350 degrees Fahrenhet, and then remove to brush a layer of coconut oil on top of loaves for the nice golden gloss of Hawaiian bread.  Bake for another 2-5 minutes.  Enjoy and Shabbat Shalom!

All-Purpose Coconut Oil

Elisha's dairy and soy allergies make me very mindful of what I put into and on my body, and I'm too thrifty to replace soy-based body and meal oils with multiple products.  I scoped out the price of Earth Balance's coconut (soy and dairy free) oil buttery spread and figured I'd better get used to just plain coconut oil as my butter alternative.  This only adds to other ways I've replaced many other items of my care for coconut oil.  My tested uses are as follows:

1.  Make up remover.  I cannot justify spending money on makeup remover itself, and so I have just been using soap and water.  This makes my oil-based eye primer look more like it has smeared rather than came off of my face.  Gone are the raccoon eyes when you use oil to remove makeup.

2.  Teeth-brushing.  Since I dont' have the patience for a 20 minute oil-pull swish, I wanted to test if a simple coconut-oil brushing before my baking soda brushing would do.  I have a pit in between 2 of my molars, one molar of which has a root canal.  Sometimes when food gets stuck in here, with no help from floss, the inflamation can lasts days.  Coconut oil brushing has not only helped pull the food, but has eased the inflammation, and protected from possible gum infection.

3.  Deep conditioner.  I only let water touch my hair every 2-3 days, and that is while using the baking soda and ACV cleansing method.  The only time I actually use shampoo (and a sulfate-free one at that) is to wash out the coconut oil from my hair after it's been sitting in it all day for a conditioning.  The difference between having the appearance of bald spots after the births of my older two and the healthy hair I still have after Elisha has been prayer over my coconut-oil anointed head!

4.  Moisturizer.  Washington is rainy, but despite this seeming moisture, it gets quite dry here in the Winter.  Cracked skin and cracked lips, meet coconut oil.

5.  Blister prevention, including salve for nursing mothers.  I came across this by pure logical thinking.  First, in my pregnancy my husband gave me daily massages.  I wore a pair of shoes in the summer that gave so much friction on the soles of my feet that it felt like they were blistering.  That night he massaged my feet, I felt the blister-feeling depart.  I have since used it when I feel a blister coming.  With that in mind, when Elisha came I knew lanolin would be needed to prevent nursing blisters or cracking -- or would it?  I tried the coconut oil and it worked like a charm.

6.  Deodorant.  When out of the shower, as I am already moisturizing with coconut-oil, I will rub a small amount of coconut oil into my hands with just enough baking soda to absorb it, and swipe it all on the armpits.  I have a very efficient system, having to put on deodorant (I don't use anti-perspirant) at least every hour, at $5-6 a bottle, and now my coconut-oil concoction is a twice a day application.

7.  Diaper rash and yeast rash cream.  Coconut oil is anti-bacterial, anti-fungal, anti-viral, anti-microbial.  Enough said.

8.  Body cleanser.  I do not do this anymore, but did it for over a year.  I used to be soap-free, and used the oil-cleansing method on not just my face, but my whole body.  To do this properly you must completely cover yourself in coconut oil before any water touches you and then wipe it off in the shower with a washrag.  I can more than attest to it working.  I did this method for a full year during a time when I was a marathon runner in constant training.  No skin patches of fungus for me.

9.  Leather cleaner and protector.  This was another experiment when I didn't have shoe cleaner nor protector and was going to wear new leather boots in a down pour.  If coconut oil can moisturize my dry skin, why not a dead animal's dry skin?  I found coconut oil did the job way longer than the products I used to by for shoe care and protection.

10.  Butter alternative.  It is a different flavor, but I tell you what it makes my challah taste like Hawaiian rolls -- two of the best bread in one!

11.  Coffee flavoring.  This is especially great for those who take a morning dose of coconut oil medicinally.  It makes for a nice mock hazelnut flavor.

12.  Skin infection cream.  As said above, the oil is anti-bacterial, anti-fungal, anti-viral, anti-microbial.  Whether it is ring worm or an infected scrape, I give coconut oil a try in my mixtures.

13.  Raw food setter.  What I like about raw food recipes is the amount of nutrients you can consume.  Heat will kill a good deal of nutrition out of meal.  We're talking the difference between a chocolate cake being healthy or not.  I like to try raw desserts, it makes me feel okay about having dessert.  I have seen the trick to keeping the proper consistency in desserts, from cake to icing, brownie to fudge, is coconut oil.  Can you imagine throwing some raw cocoa, cold-pressed coconut oil, and agave syrup into your blender (maybe also some raw nuts or beerries) and then spreading it out on wax paper in the refridgerator and having your very own natural and raw choocolate bar?  Do you know how much you would save?  I just looked at a natural chocolate bar yesterday for almost $5...

14.  Carrier oil.  Coconut oil works well to carry and spread your essential oils (which are dry).  The good news as well is that most of the ailments for which you would use essential oil coconut oil can also be used.  Talk about double whammy on those aillments.

The list goes on.  It seems like every time I am stumped on how to fix, remove, or enhance something, and I try coconut oil for it, it doesn't disappoint.  This is especially true medicinally  -- I've heard of people using it to help balance hormones and neurotransmission in mental disorders, assist in cancer-fighting, tremors.  You know how some people use NyQuil or Robitussin for their cure all?  Mine is coconut oil.  If you have any other uses, please do share.

The Week and its Sweets

Today my Little is 11 weeks old.  I made it a memorable one by trying her in her Moses basket for the first time last night.  Brant didn't think she would stay in there.  Even fast asleep, that girl will wake up 15 minutes into sleeping alone.  She needs a body next to her to remain asleep.  When lights are out it is a little different though.  I was more concerned that I would be the hindrance to her staying in there.  The last I remember I was reassuring myself, through asking Brant to confirm to me, she -- ahem, I -- was going to be okay.  Next thing I know..."Whaaaaa."  I checked the clock.  It was 1 a.m., her normal mid-evening feeding time. Wow, that went fast and we survived.  Now that I knew we could survive, I lighted the Little out of her basket and snuggled her into bed with me.  In the morning I rejoiced that we did it, and Brant just had to remind me that I didn't put her back in after her 1 a.m. feeding.  Baby steps.  Baby steps.

Sunday was my birthday.  Thirty-one years old.  The years are just going to keep getting higher, aren't they?  I quite enjoy saying I am in my thirties, it's that more stable decade in-between sloppy adult and young grandma.  Geez, I can't even think about that.  Five more years and Amira will be eighteen.  I am constantly telling her that she will live at home until she is married, even through college if she chooses that route.  I am not even kidding when I say I am imprinting in her mind that we three led by God will even choose that husband.  I am praying even now God open our eyes to the young man whoever he may be, whenever he comes around.  Yesterday as I was driving home from dropping Brant off to work I was even planning out which lines from "Sunrise, Sunset" I would sing at her wedding.

Back to my birthday.  It was a typical adult mom birthday -- you know, the kind of birthday where you make your own cake and fancy dinner.  It isn't so much that you want a cake on your birthday, but from the moment the kids woke up they were desiring that cake on behalf of your birthday.  You almost say it is their cake to you, except it is for them.  I cannot go out to eat because of Elisha's food allergies.  I don't want to make it sound like I begrudged my birthday though.  All of this is fine.  I thoroughly enjoyed my birthday and I made the cake I wanted.  It was a raw food carrot cake, a recipe share courtesy of my bestie Michelle.  Click here for recipe.  If you have not tried raw cakes before, let me tell you that they are small recipes.  The cake will not come out as big as the link's picture.  However, the flavors are very rich and will more than suffice one family.  Both this cake and the raw chocolate one I made before were eaten in 2 sittings each -- that is how rich raw cakes are.

Brant actually ordered my gift a month ago.  To be honest, I picked it out.  Why do we women do that?  I think we have our gifts picked out for every special occasion for the rest of our lives and then get upset when the men ask what we want thinking they should already know.  I'll stick it to myself and say men are as good at reading minds as women are at submitting.  Especially in the gift giving we find it hard to refrain from leading.  Next year.  There's always trying to submit to a real surprise gift next year.    

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving -- the pilgrim-established attempt to reinstate Sukkot.  It is a day which has been changed a couple of times throughout our history, most recent for economical benefit through consumerism.  It drifted further away from being in line with Sukkot, and closer to the world's purchasing holiday of Christmas.  It cracks me up when I see comments of how it is ridiculous that now Black Friday has moved right into Thanksgiving when today's date for Thanksgiving was set for consumerism.  It doesn't mean don't be thankful, but the switch did little to honor the memory and pure attempt (a reconstitution) of Thanksgiving's original establishers.  Outside of Thanksgiving, no other cultural holiday originated from pure attempts, which is why my family still celebraties it; however, those who want the thankful-for-the-harvest spirit of Sukkot that enveloped the pilgrims can only really find that in Sukkot.

It's all about the pie.  Pecan used to be my absolute favorite, but in all these 9 years of practical veganism I have yet to come across a decent vegan alternative.  I have since done pumpkin pie with soy, but am attempting a soy-free alternative tomorrow.  It won't be gluten-free though.  After my gluten-free bread bowls last week, which turned into hurling stones, I have given up on all-purpose gluten free flour.  I will still make my own crust of course.  Click here for my filling choice.  If you have a vegan pecan pie recipe, tested and tried, I would appreciate you likewise share the love.  Happy Thanksgiving.

Me, Myself, and Mine

I'm not doing a very good job keeping up with this blog site.  It isn't that there is a lack of things worth recording, but that there are so many things to record.  I am so focused on living my memories instead of trying to log them.  My family is so humorous -- each of us in our own way -- and the Little's personality along with our impersonations of her to make things a little more light-hearted in light of having a demanding newborn, makes for such a fun family.

Nevertheless I realize that even in living instead of logging, I am still sharing my family memories...with myself.  I know I am not the only Mom who often refers to herself in the 3rd person.  It has happened with each baby and lasts until that baby makes it to at least Bam's age -- I still do it with Bam.  Why is that?  It is like a universal truth.  Moms refer to themselves as "Mommy" not "I" nor "me."  "Mommy doesn't like that."  "Go get ---- for Mommy."  It's like we imply there are two of us.  What I also notice is that it is universally true that moms act like the age of their child with their baby talk.  Sometimes moms will even impersonate the child to the child and themselves.  For instance, while the baby is crying I have found myself looking at her and saying, "Milk, Mommy?" in question form to take the place of me in the first person asking her in the second person if she wants milk.  I think the thought is that we are teaching them exactly how to say it, word for word, but while doing so this is what it sounds like:  I am impersonating the child saying she wants milk to me, while the question form of it also means I am myself asking her if she wants milk.  Yup, moms have split AND multiple personalities.

Then there is the 3 different age groups of my children that contribute.  I act as both kindergarten and 7th grade teacher at the same hours.  Lately in order to get my workouts in, I added it to my multi-tasked mornings.  So while I am working out with the baby as my weight system, Amira's reading out loud from her textbook and I'm overlooking Bam doing his writing assignments.  I am whiplashed from baby talk, to memorization rhymes, to intelligent-speaking.  Have you seen that ecard that says moms on the phone sounds like they have tourettes -- "Yes, I'd like to have lunch --don't lick that! -- Where would you like to go?"  With my kids at different stages of their lives, and the call upon a mom to be a chameleon to their children's development, my Mommy-tourettes is amongst my own children.  I like it said better that way -- no multiple personalites, just a chameleon one.  Although this still doesnt explain how we talk to ourselves.  The only thing I can say is that moms also live such insanely busy lives, frequently in such precious and hilarious moments, that their nearest girlfriend to share it with is themselves.

My daughter turned 13 this past month.  I am not sure if my mother ever really knew me as a child, especially my struggles.  I was molested from ages 7 to 11 and kept it in.  It marred my view on acceptance amongst others and my view on love.  I know that by the time I was my daughter's age, I could assuredly say that she far from knew me.  I don't want that to be Amira and me.  I want to know her struggles, and I also want her time lest the world takes it up.  I am troubled on how much of the real world I should tell her about, and how much would only taint her mind.  When I come to the realization of things within the real world, it taints my own mind.  Even evil deeds of not just ISIS and the government, but others close to me -- the replay in my head keeps me in a constant melancholy of this world.  I don't want her to be that way.  I quite enjoy the light-hearted girl I spend my days with.

However, I also can't leave her blind, loving though deceived.  Years ago my family had an intervention for my youngest brother in his oxycontin addiction.  I flew in from Germany, my mother from Georgia.  I kids you not, everybody except for my grandma and one of my friends, that I saw and that was even a part of this intervention, had been exposed in my eyes as a substance abuser.  My brother said, "Everybody has their poision."  My reply was, "No.  Not the people I know."  I looked at them as if they were strangers to me, because they were.  I guess in reflection of true-character revelation of people I thought I knew, I would rather continue talking to myself for company than the alternative.

That's what we release our children to -- to a world of deceivers, abusers, hypocrities, liars, stealers, drunkards, murderers.  Considering all this, I happily live my nonsocial busy life as a stay at home Mom and teacher.  It is the dire need of my conscience to be saturated in their lives, their teacher of all things spiritual and intellectual, that they would be unspotted from the ways of the world and keep themselves from being hurt by it.

Stuff'N Things

My sister-in-law sent me an article about why newborns are only satisfied in your arms and how much money will go into doing the exact opposite of that need -- swings, playpens, bouncers, playmats, bassinets, rockers.  Did you notice how much space goes into denying that desire of the baby's as well?  Now I can't say I spent any money really on Mommy-arm substitutes, because both of my brothers had little girls last year, but I did notice what the demand for space from having almost double of everything meant to my small house.  I am not a closet stuffer.  I will turn into one of those moms that beligerently (and with much speed I might add) will throw a whole closet outside of the closet if I notice any type of stuffing.  I just don't, I can't, allow for stuffing things.  Now my daughter has taken up quite a bit of room, her stuff is found in 3 rooms.  I understand I had to give up some space for the child, but I am more convinced now having read the article that it is perfectly okay if her stuff isn't found in every room and its closet.

Despite the money that goes into putting the baby down, contrary to what we are fed by consumerism, and the marketers of $20 onsies, babies don't even need all that many clothes.  They grow so fast, I've heard of many who didn't have their child wearing the same thing twice the first couple of months.  Let me tell you when it came to stuffing things in the 2 closets that she has practically taken over, I was not about to give up my no stuffing rule.  My husband was content to throw the box of diapers in the closet and I, on the other hand, will mostly gladly get rid of my own clothes to make room lest I find myself stuffing things.  The house just has to be tidy and orderly.  I am a big promoter of order and demander of it as well -- it is one of the reasons why I love the Law of the Lord.

I understand that kids are kids and they need to be kids.  However, maybe it was just the way I grew up because I just can't have a playhouse of a house, if you know what I'm saying.  The house still needs to look like it's my job to take care of it and manage it, and it still needs to look like I am good at my job.  It also needs to look like I am active in my job of raising little girls to be ladies, wives, and mothers, and little boys to clean up after themselves for their wife's sake.

The children are taught that their world revolves around the authoritarian in their lives, and that that authoritarian loves them.  As of right now, that person is mainly me.  Sure, this benefits me greatly -- my house will pretty much stay clean and I am always being thought of and I am known.  What I mean is this -- my mind's ability to focus on more than one thing has become a bit rusty.  "Whatchamacallits" have not made it into my vocabulary, but "stuff" and "things" have.  "Amira can you get me my stuff, it's next to the thing."  "Have you seen my thing?"  "Where did I put that stuff?" "I need that thing."  I have the stuff-and-thing complex, and it happens when my mind is on the thing while the conversation or physical reality is on some other stuff.  The amazing part is...my family knows what stuff and thing I am talking about.  This is what I mean by I am known.  This is what happens when their world has revolved around me.

Now hear me out -- of course no one would argue that my newborn's world revolves around me, but I may be called selfish for allowing such (and even practically promoting it) with the others.  The truth is...their lives should always revolve around an authoritarian -- they learn this relationship with me, and one day it should, for their own good, transfer to the ultimate authority:  the Lord.  I want these children's world to revolve around Him.  I want them to serve Him, truly.  I want them to keep themselves clean for His sake, thinking it is His house not theirs.  Most importantly, I want them to know Him -- like how they know me so well that they know what stuff and thing I am referring to.

I am so encouraged by the way of this relationship with my children.  Just this afternoon the girls and I (Elisha strapped to me) were practicing our dances for Saturday, while I was trying to teach Bam how to worship with us by percussion, making him hit a bowl when he sees us step on the right foot and a box when we step on the left.  It was so beautiful I almost cried.  My children and I just worshipping the Lord -- I want them to know Him and serve Him.  Then Amira topped it off with voluntarily going outside afterwards and trimming the bushes without being asked, but because she knows I don't like them to be overgrown.

So, this past week Brant decided that he would wake up and deal with Bam in the middle of the night because it was just too hard on me to wake up to Little's grunts to go potty myself, then wake up Bam to go, spending time to get him out of the sleep walking stage, to change Elisha and then feed her.  By the time I got Bam coherently able to sit on the potty, Elisha was already past the 'hey, beloved Mother, wake up' grunts and well into the 'woman, feed me now!' screams.  On top of this I captured him in a classic moment yesterday, coming off of work, push-reel mowing the yard with the baby in the carrier.  What a guy.  Even last night after he got up Bam to go potty in the wee hours, I heard him laboring over splitting wood outside -- yes in the middle of the night!  What a good example of a head -- serving his family in keeping us warm.  He also knows his wife is very cranky in the cold, so what a good example of Messiah who labors for His Bride.  Now my man has walked into the door after his day's labor, so I will be saying toodles for family time.  The laborer is worthy of his reward.

Lullaby

A baby's deep sleep breath -- it's like a lullaby to the parent.  Not much outside of my children's absolute peace and contentment, like they have in sleep, can be such a good lullaby to me.  Little is sleeping and her tiny sounds are a lulling white noise in the form of an eraser, removing the list of to-do's on mind.  That is my lullaby right now, putting me into an afternoon nap.  It is amazing how many things are no longer important when a nap is offered.

If it's not for your own nap's sake, there's the baby's nap to consider.  Even things of importance are deeply challenged when it means a high chance of waking the baby.  Just earlier the kids were knocking on the door to be let in, but the tiny one had just fallen asleep on my arm.  Even though I heard a thunder clap, I mean there was a split second where the decision to get up and wake the child was a real struggle as I knew it would be a struggle to get her back to sleep.

That reminds me of this past Sunday when we went fishing with my brother Donavan.  The baby was in a sleep struggle and Donavan busted out his cell phone's playlist with a lullaby.  Wow, I don't even have lullabies at my fingertips.  He is going through some changes and without formally making it a plan, it was just natural for Brant and me to take him on family outings with us.  It was quite genius that the family outing ended up being fishing, because I had yet to get an anniversary gift for Brant and since he needed a fishing license and since the first anniversary gift is paper, his license ended up being the perfect gift.  The trip didn't last long because there was a game Donavan needed to watch and because I ran out of wipes.  During the one diaper-changing session while we were out, I happened to go through 3 diapers and all of my traveler baby wipes...and still get pooped on.  Nevertheless, she was so happy wriggling in the mess of poop that was on my lap, and screaming to be cleaned of it.  It's like the way I clean spilled milk from her neck rolls.  She throws an infant hissy fit as if she was saving that for later.

I didn't get a fishing license for myself.  It would have defeated its purpose as a gift for Brant, and it was more enjoyable to watch the males interact.  It was good for Bam to have his day golfing on Thursday, bowling Saturday night, and then fishing on Sunday.

It started worrying me that my son was getting a bit of middle-child syndrome from me.  I realize that we are often occupied with Amira's fast growth into teenage-hood and all that comes with it.  Just this past Saturday Brant was telling me how a teenage boy's dad was making nice conversation with him.  When I asked what about, he replied, "The betrothal."  He was totally joking, but I don't know which one people would think is worse -- that I believed him or that I am open to such a discussion.  That's one of the things that occupies us:  the thought of her getting older and preparing for the path God has for her.  It is serious business.  Everything I do now, the way I raise the kids, care for my husband, get out of bed and manage the house, the way I teach Bible study, the way I react, my attitude...is all with this constantly in my thoughts:  she's learning from this.  Amira often occupies me mentally and Elisha occupies me physically.  My poor boy sort of gets lost in the middle, as he gets responses from me that are not much above "uh huh," "that's cool," "shhh the baby is sleeping," "not right now," "later."  I feel so badly.  This morning he happened to arise and fancy into my room at an opportune moment of Little being fast asleep, but not opportune because I was deeply into Bible reading.  I put it down and spent a few minutes alone with the boy -- no big sister who often out-bosses him, and no little sister who can out voice him.  I mean, you have to live the Scriptures too.  The time with my little boy, who I once thought was going to be my last child, was very soothing to me.

However, more soothing than my time with him is observing Brant's time put into him.  I am happy to sit back and watch that relationship grow.  He teaches him badminton and golf; talks to him past his fears of the water, spiders, and the dark; will hold conversations with him about Minecraft and Legos; watches movies with him; gives him tasks...  Even the other night I was trying to put the baby to bed and Brant was in the other room spending time with Bam.  The last of it I heard was Brant reprimanding Bam for his disobedience, but even then it put me to sleep just listening to them.  It wasn't that it was boring, but everything about that boy's relationship with his "Dad" is so soothing.  In play, talk, or discipline, there's a peace about him when he is with Brant, a peace that that night was my lullaby.

Baby Blues

When Brant told me yesterday that his alarm would be going off at 5am, I thought that was quite early. However, to my darling newborn child, that was sleeping in this morning.  The Elisha-alarm went off at 4am, after a night of fussiness.  This alarm wasn't the cute grunts in the middle of the night to let me know she's hungry.  This was the flat out screaming that didn't end until 5:30.  When Brant quit his roofing job, I thought my days of waking up at the 4am hour were gone.  I am not eager about it reprising for heartburn and gas, and certainly not going to sit around and wait for it to turn her colicky.

Last night was the first I started feeling a bit like I had some postpartum blues.  Hey, I know it's normal, especially when hormones that drive your body are whiplashing as they come back to a balance.  I was so whacked out that last month of pregnancy that I wholly expected my postpartum to actual slap me back into normalcy...and it did for the most part.  I made it to 5 weeks postpartum without my hair falling out, my eyes puffy from crying, nor feeling like an inadequate mother, and I thought I was in the gold.  Yet, a screaming baby that refuses to be consoled will change all of that.

Elisha is having some gastrointestinal issues.  It started out last Monday with bloody stools that quickly were seen in every diaper change (every 2-3 hours).  I went on the Top 8 elimination diet, eliminating all 8 at once to add one at a time back in at weekly intervals after 2 weeks.  That greatly upped my fiber intake with the fruits, vegetables, and beans.  I can understand why she has had bouts of screaming from gas and/or heartburn since Friday.  During those moments she'll nurse only a few minutes and then start screaming, pull away, milk squirts everywhere...  Yesterday I literally was crying over the spilled milk -- not because I was frustrated with the baby, but because of the child's pain as it related to my milk.  Babies are meant to have their mother's milk.  It is supposed to be the best thing for them, not the source of ailments and discomfort.  Nevertheless, she seems to still be thriving greatly on the milk, at least that's what her weight gain tells us.

Now, I think it is wholly unfair for Brant to deal with the children's nighttime needs when he deals with the very real, physical needs of the whole family by working.  This means he must get enough sleep to provide for the family.  However, last night I was so exhausted with her fussiness I had to ask him to take Bam potty.  Yes friends, when I wake up in the middle of any given night, I have to answer to three bladders:  mine, my son's, and my newborn's...more than once a night.  Nights are quite demanding.

Brant is still ever-helpful and considerate.  He rolled over at that 4am scream and, while I was boo-hooing, started reading me Scripture out loud.  Then he prayed over us before he left at 5:30 when she was calm enough for me to go back to bed.  I drifted off saying how absolutely tired I am, getting to go back to sleep while his day has just started.  It's a tough job being a Mom, and many say that it is the job that goes unnoticed, but I often wonder if a Dad's job is more unnoticed within his own family.  I once watched a husband, who works, clean and prepare meals for his whole family, including his homemaking wife who lay in bed watching TV for days on end.

My thoughts land greatly on the job of my dear husband to keep me comfortable enough to do my job and provide for me that I can.  Brant massaged my shoulders one of the three times I awoke last night, while I was sitting up trying to massage baby's tummy.  He keeps my bedside water filled.  In fact, when we walk in the door, the first thing he does is poor me water.  He brushes my hair when he sees I clearly haven't had the time to do anything with it that day.  He washes my makeup brushes if they are still sitting on the dresser by the time he gets home.  And no, it isn't because the man is obsessed with cleanliness; it is because I am obsessed with cleanliness and he wants to fix whatever prevents me from the comfort of cleanliness, even if that is redeeming the lack of time by offering himself before and after he goes out and works for a living.  Even after all these, I, whose job is the house, refuse to do 2 jobs of this house:  the yard and the garbage.  Of course this leaves Brant to pick up those house jobs automatically, if not Amira.  Wow, my man has a tough job.

Since the scream fest, I've been working my way through natural approaches.  I am taking in raw apple cider vinegar at least once a day.  I know it cures heartburn almost immediately when directly ingested, and I am hoping it will work the same through breast milk.  I also started taking inulin pills (prebiotic) just this morning.  In addition, I've applied lavender and peppermint (one drop each with coconut oil) onto the Little's tummy, back, and soles of her feet.  I've noticed an improvement with the essential oils when they are blended together.  The peppermint alone (though good as a digestive aid often in tea form) just wasn't cutting it.  Maybe they need that lavender to calm their little stressed out system.  I know doTerra and Young Living both have their own digestive aid blends that are quite excellent, but their prices are not so.  I will try others first.

Regardless, I am encouraged that though this postnatal term has proven more challenging than my others, I have not entirely caved to postpartum blues because it ain't about me.  My milk to Little's touchy system may hurt my feelings, but the baby is the one going through the real pain; and though my job may be hard and hormone fluctuation play a huge part on postpartum mentality, I am scarcely down when I think of all that my husband does as my support system and he never complains about it.  I have a past I can compare that with; and if anything I am thankful for that past because, with it, I can see how good I have it now...which helps so much in relieving any blues that may sneak in.  It is hard to make my postpartum all about me when "me" is already properly taken care of.  It reminds me of how we are free in Messiah to love (charity) because we are loved freely.  I am free from the care of me, free to do my job because he does his job in taking such good care of me.  That really makes all the difference.

Ninjama

If I were living Groundhog Day, the repetitive thing I'd wake up to daily would be the day's theme, and Ninja would be that theme.  Whether its the way I move swiftly during grocery shopping and other errands during the 2 hour break before Elisha decides she hates the car seat, the grace of my movements while vacuuming and carrying a sleeping infant, the steadiness my hand to eat while the baby is feeding, the power in my spankings, busting out the switch like a Ninja and their sword, the fierce look I give to my children in public if they are disobedient, the quickness of my quick diaper changes in the still of the nights, the silence of my slipping away once baby is napping, and the strength to tackle the day's tasks while having such broken sleep.  If that's not enough, today I had my breakfast, courtesy of the Ninja; got into a wardrobe war with Bam so he could wear his Ninjaqo shirt; and because Elisha was freshly back asleep, I slipped away like a Ninja myself and took a stealth-like shower.

It was during that shower, as I was battling today's tasks in my head -- well, this week's tasks, in all honesty -- that I thought of adding a snip to my bangs in the schedule.  It would only be for Brant, who greatly desires I would.  I battled this in my head, telling him (as if he could hear me) how much I just like my simple hair that goes along with my simple choices in my wardrobe, which is full of simple colors like black (true to my Ninja theme) and the simple shoes I almost bought on Sunday that would secure the banner on my forehead that says, "Yep, I'm a Mom."

I didn't realize what coming to that third child would do to me.  I was still getting my hair dyed and my nails done being pregnant with Amira, and rocking 4 inch stilettos throughout my pregnancy with Bam.  When I was pregnant with Elisha I traded my fancy shoes for Vibram Five Fingers; and, well, my hair never did get a single trim.  I went from no-way on the mini-van with Amira, to submitting to one in time with Bam, to downright not even considering another option but the mini-van with Elisha.

I did try on some other shoes on Sunday.  They were Mary Jane brown Earth Sole shoes from Walmart, with a walking-shoe/day-hiking sole.  They were totally 'Mom' shoes, and I loved them.  My husband came walking by, saying, "Please don't."  I can't believe he had to ask me to not wear something.  Normally I am more particular about the way I look than he is about the way I look.  So now you see why I debate chopping the bangs, because a man needs his wife.

I was thinking of a feminine (hence, Mary Jane) walking shoe because of my method of travel these days.  Yes friends, I have traded my minivan for another set of wheels:  my stroller.  I know this child has changed me when I would eyeball people walking along the sidewalks to get a glimpse of their stroller.  I scope the angles, the pivot, the bulk, the gadgets, the recline, the suspension, the alignment, the size -- just to name a few.  You should have seen me Sunday morning refreshing Craigslist ads on strollers, like a cyber stalker.  The truth is, having just bought that stroller right before the Walmart trip, I wanted some shoes to go with them.  I wanted shoes to ensure I would have just as much comfort walking the child in that stroller as she would have being in that cushioned goodness.  Now the way I described my window - ahem, sidewalk - shopping of strollers, you'd think I got one of those top of the line strollers.  Well friends, I got one that was designed to hold my car seat on Craigslist, because not only do I scope out the stroller, but I scope out the price.  It is a great stroller none the less, but I did pass up the Bob for one with what I could easily transfer my baby without taking her out of the car seat.  You know you are a sleep-deprived Mom when you'd almost choose death than to wake up the baby unnecessarily.  

I was so into this stroller that even Brant could see it.  You should have seen him in the store, practically the stroller's bodyguard for my sake, sternly and repetitively telling Bam, "Back off the stroller.  That's Mommy's new toy."  As a matter of fact, after I tested it out in Walmart we went to the zoo.  Now I can say we did it for the kids, which we did; but I also did have it in my heart to push that stroller.  The next morning as we woke up, one of the first things Brant said to me was, "You get to test out your new stroller today."  I had an appointment about a mile away from home and he knew I was eager to put that stroller to the asphalt.  He was right -- when I awoke I did so with excitement over using the stroller.  He knows me well.

Now I had quite a few things I wanted to accomplish when I took the new set of wheels out.  Before the appointment, the library run, and the grocery store, I had to first play the Ninja and, in a thief-in-the-night move, get rid of some trash overflow in the sidewalk trashcan.  It wasn't that I thought I was illegally dumping.  We live in a nice small city and they happen to have trashcans every few blocks along one of the main roads, which happens to be at the end of our street.  I figure that the public trashcan for our city is open the city residents.  Nevertheless, it is a bit embarrassing to be spotted walking with some trash overflow.  (Hey, I have a newborn -- an outrageous amount of diapers and boxes came our way the past 2 weeks.)  So it was during this pre-outing mission that one of the neighbors came out of her bushes like a Ninja herself and eagerly made mention of the babe I was stroller-ing with one hand, while the other was holding my garbage.  She had yet to meet the baby and was very excited to take this opportunity.  As she approached, she said, "Is that your trash?"  Fail!  Of course I couldn't lie, so I answered that it was and she happily offered her trashcan for my convenience.  Brant says that's what neighbors do.  I don't know what neighborhood he grew up in, but in the one I grew up in, people did not offer us their trashcan.  However, most ashamedly I admit that that did not stop us from using our neighbors' trashcans.  

Going back to my to-do list I was thinking up in the shower, today's outings included a doctor's appointment for Little and shopping for Amira's birthday.  Tomorrow she will be 13 and I am a bit overwhelmed with that fact.  She said she didn't even want a cake, certainly not a party.  She wants a Vans gift certificate, new headphones, and to eat pho.  Easy child, huh?  Though she is quickly coming out of her childhood.  Tomorrow she is a teenager.

I cannot believe it has been 13 years since I had her.  She changed my life, and though I strongly dislike people saying their children saved them (to be a savior is a strong demand to put on a child), I can say I don't know where I would be if she hadn't entered my life so soon.  I have seen my brothers become by-products of our generations' past, and I know that I myself am not above all I have seen.  At the time, I was so young, selfish, and even ignorant.  I watched the Lord cover my ignorance, make my selfish heart of stone a heart of flesh to care for a child and desire more, and grow me to be a real parent.  We are a family of five today but Amira knew me when we were a family of just her and me.  Much contributed to her growth and much she forgave.  She's ever had a heart of meekness and consideration -- the other day she used her last dollar to buy her brother a cookie.  The Lord has blessed.

It is actually a grand day of celebration for us.  It will start with Amira's birthday and then at sunset we will ring in the birthday of our Lord on Sukkot, and in turn I celebrate the anniversary of Brant's proposal which came on Sukkot (though this was Sept last year, we had 2 months of Adar this past Biblical calendar year).  This Ninjama has much to celebrate.

  

Keeping Up With the Krakens

I am not sure Bam will be sufficed until I start playing Minecraft.  He will spend hours enthusiastically talking to anyone with an ear about his current passion, and I mean anyone.  One time, being the master builder than he is, he built an airplane-submarine-car-in-one with is legos and talked to every passing person while in Trader Joe's.  I think the most hilarious was how he was trying to sell his own enthusiasm to an elderly couple there.  Or there was the time I was trying on shoes at Nordstrom -- he talked Minecraft to the salesman, and even followed him around to other customers to upkeep the [practically one person] conversation.  Now you know those guys work on a commission and I felt so terrible; but, confession:  I also felt relieved.

The trend lately has stuck to Minecraft.  He must really like it because the passions otherwise switch quite often.  Since it has stayed on Minecraft, sometimes my days feel like the movie Groundhog Day.  It's the same ole cooking and cleaning and changing diapers, and now let's add the same amount of hours of the same ole discussion topic.  Sometimes the only thing that changes in one day is Elisha's clothes and my clothes, because Amira (being the skater she is) and Bam (being a 6 year old boy) will even remain in the same clothes day to day if I let them.  Now I talk about many standards for myself as a woman that seem to no longer be as I gain more children and my children gain more age, but let it never be that my standards about my daily changing of clothes be diminished!  Oh someone come babysit these kids if ever.

Back to Minecraft.  He will follow me around and talk about krakens and wither skulls, and I'm thinking, "What is a kraken?"  Here comes little-boy-busy, in all excitement, replying, "I can show you!"  Huh.  Well, after watching a 16 minute You Tube Minecraft video just for him to show me what a wither skull was, I wasn't eager to dive in for another sixteen for the kraken.  Just 2 seconds on Google and this Mommy can move right along with lending the ear for the kraken obsession, which in turn saves me 16 more minutes from my busy schedule.

Apparently there is a legend of a giant sea monster, looking like an octopus, dwelling in the Greenland/Norway coasts.  This is the kraken, although from what I gathered in Bam's sales pitch it sounds like Minecraft's version is more like a squid.  Someone please tell me I heard the boy correctly.

I was just thinking, which I spend much time doing during these hours-long chat, that I would be a better listener if I applied the speech to my reality.  It is even better if I can apply it to my reality at that moment.  I mean, we already do this with sermons right?  Give it a try with me.  For example, I can share the enthusiasm and give real excited replies when, in the midst of his talking and my cleaning, I think about what I could do with a kraken.  How cool it must be to have so many arms to do so much.  I would train my kraken.  Hey, if you can train a dragon, why not a kraken?  With 4 times the arms as me, could folding laundry get 4 times faster?  How about extending the vacuum hose up to get cobwebs -- how awesome are the long arms of a kraken and the tentacles on those long arms for easy suctioning?  I could say goodbye to my vacuum if I only had a kraken.  I especially think of my time spent this morning scrubbing mini blinds.  Oh awesome kraken, where were you then?  I needed a plumbing snake recently -- could have called the kraken.    

I'm 'kraken' myself up over here, having fell for a 6-year old's sales pitch on a legendary animal.  I've spent enough time talking about imaginary help, I should get to the real help.  Amira is such a help.  I was showered and halfway through my Shabbat prepping by the 10 o'clock hour because she cuddled the babe, who will sleep hours if she is swaddled and cuddled.  She helped with the other half of prepping as I was limited to what I could do while nursing the baby in the pack carrier.  She even ran the late movie back up to the library this morning.  I feel better utilizing her help when I tell myself it is training in responsibility, courtesy, and raising a family.

As far as the boy, well I need a kraken just to keep with all his messy doings and undoings, let alone get some sort of physical help from him.  I ask him to go do something and on the way to do it he gets distracted.  There could be nothing but a white padded cell between him and the task I put before him and he would be the one to find something entertaining about a white padded cell.  He did wipe off the tops of the heaters this morning, but other than that it is an accomplishment alone if he cleans up his messes.  Since he is a walking tornado (and I mean that -- he even often gives the motions of one, twirling and spinning in circles everywhere he goes), cleaning up after himself is an all-day event.  You know that B.O.R.E.D. list of options you give your kids when they say they are bored?  With Bam it doesn't have to be so.  I have often found myself saying, whenever I see him idle, "Go clean up your mess," and it seems to be a safe thing to say to him.  Not having seen a mess, I know there is one; and he confirms me by saying, "Okay."  There is always a Bam mess to clean, and a Bam to keep up with.

Obviously having spent almost a whole blog article on his current obsession, I have proof that I kept up with the krakens; but alas, some new sounds coming from Bam have made it to my ears:  thumping and chopping in the living room.  Oh no, please don't tell me it's "keeping up with the karate kid" time.  

Terribly Good Twos

I am not sure what is happening here but I hope it stays this way.  I was showered and dressed before noon, 2 mile walk with the kids this afternoon to an appointment (where I showed up 10 mins early -- wow), schoolwork for both of the kids is done, dinner crock-potted, my husband's lunches are made for the rest of the week, Bible studies, my house is clean, and I even wrote an article on my other blog site this morning.  This makes 2 blog articles today.  I feel...like myself.

I even spent some time with Brant this morning before he went to work.  He gave his job a two-week notice after the birth of our daughter, which ended up in an early quit because of weather.  Since he is in the middle of going back to an old career, I was so upset he up and quit before anything was sure.  I wholly expected him to return back to the job until he had a sure thing set up or was certified to go back to his old career, though I realized I too would often make mention of the hours due to weather, the long commute, and getting up earlier as the time went by.  I was upset...that is until he said, "I didn't mind the commute.  It was my devotion time, but I hated the job for you.  I hated what it did to you, that you had to get up so early."  He has a good heart, I don't deserve him.  He started a new job 2 days ago, much closer to home.  It was so nice to get up before the alarm went off and chit chat over warm beverages, rather than waking up in the 4am hour just to rush out of the door.  It is these past 2 days with this new job that I feel like I got my groove back.  I especially feel like I have my groove back when I get his compliments and when he calls to say he's coming home with dinner.  I sound so trendy.  I'll continue by saying this is my swag:  being his wife, their mother, a Bible and school teacher, and a housekeeper all at once.  I mean, to be all those things in one day without compromising any one of those positions for the other is good swag to me.

I can't seem to be able to add socializer to my swag list just yet.  My phone rang off the hook this morning and it did nothing but frustrate me at the time.  I don't have time to comment much on anything on Facebook anymore, and sometimes something beckons me before I have the chance to even hit the like button.  I tried to type "Happy Birthday" to my cousin today and the app (which just updated yesterday) seems to have another bug that needs fixing.  It kept asking me if I wanted to delete the post every 2 letters I typed out.  More frustration.  I am trying though; I did attempt to return some of those phone calls along our walk; and with a bluetooth and my girl Siri to do some of my typing (that faithful sidekick) for those buggin' out apps, I may be able to add socializer in no time.

Two days of 2-mile walks with the kids and you know it was coming -- they were going to ask me for a snack at our turning point (Trader Joe's).  I am happy to report that although the kids first grabbed candy bars, they didn't walk out with them.  I walked out of the store with my kids eating nutrition bars and apples.  Their choice.  Amira's choice was also to walk alongside me and talk rather than skateboard, offering to hold my diaper and shopping bag.  This means so much since she's hitting that age where many children find their parents are wardens.  Good job Mom.  Getting kids to make good decisions, talk to you, and help you -- now that is some good swag.

Case of a Newborn's Sterile Fluids

I recently saw one of those ecard funny comics on Facebook that said something to the likeness of how normal it is to throw a towel over your peed on bed (from your children) and go back to sleep.  I am embarrassed to come to realize how many times I have let urine, spit up milk, and yes even a bit of newborn poop come onto my blanket and I just give it a good spot cleaning.  Brant says urine is sterile -- makes me feel better about applying the 5-second rule to cleaning it up:  If I spot clean it in 5 seconds, it hasn't had the time to penetrate into the inner cloth layers to make a full washing required for cleaning.  So I take this and couple it with knowing that her spit up is breast milk, and breast milk has wonderful antibacterial agents, and I make it okay to wait a few on washing the blanket.  Oh the lies we tell ourselves!  If she wouldn't project her wastes then it wouldn't show up on my blanket.  I think she was a week old when I proceeded to change her diaper while nursing and she gave a little squirt on my arm.  I went about cleaning up my arm and she clearly was not done as she gave an even bigger squirt and literally projected a perfect flow directly into my glass of water on my nightstand.  TMI?  I was traumatized.  The very next day as I was determined to wear my bright maxi skirt that showed off that my tummy was already flat 1 week postpartum (the results of pilates core work while pregnant), she drizzled just a tad on my skirt while doing my change-while-nursing routine.  As I spot cleaned that tiny drizzle, out came the water works and the skirt was unwearable.  Note to self --  change-while-nursing, though showing great skill, is not the best idea.  Just now, Little gave my blanket another dose of her sterile fluids, which that, on top of being bored without my guys today, left me with an itch to post.

By "Little" I mean Elisha, our newest addition.  I knew a nickname was inevitable, though I assumed it would simply be Ellie or Ella.  Nope.  With my other two having nicknames like "Moo" and "Bam," another weird nickname was bound to tie itself to this child.  Little gets her nickname because she was my tiniest baby at birth and because my husband and I both thought she was my mini-me.

I mentioned I was without my guys today.  I normally would not be without my husband.  I require a lot of his attention and we tend to go everywhere together.  However, this past week I seemed to be content and encouraging for him to go golfing and the ballgame without me.  Today was the ballgame, and he went with Bam.  This meant I had to get them out of the house and to the bus stop by noon sharp.  Of course this also meant random stuff was out of order in my house getting us out on time.  On such a time limit as this, I was so occupied with this thought:  I can't wait to get home and clean up.  I found that thought became a mantra, as I was perfectly fine to say goodbye to B & B for the afternoon.  Although it didn't take me much more than 30 minutes to miss them terribly.  I found myself stalking the Mariners score as if I actually liked baseball, in anticipation of the final tally which would bring them on a bus back home.  Sure enough, as soon as I saw "Final" I get a ring from Brant.  You should have heard me play it off as if I wasn't a game stalker and already knew that they were on the way home.  Smooth.

Getting them to the station at noon, we managed to make it out of the house at 11:30 and -- drumroll -- my makeup was on my face, my coffee was warm, and my Little wasn't screaming getting put into her car seat.  She was out cold from her shower.  This morning we took her into the actual shower for the first time.  She completely dozed in my arms, even as the water trickled on her face.  I never saw a baby at such peace like that.  It gave me such a peace.  I know most of her tranquility in that water is because it reminded her of her cozy womb-home, and there was something so thoroughly satisfying to know that.

...Then the water went off and she immediately snapped out of it with a scream, and of course!.... she peed on me.  Oy!

Behind the Title

 Sometime in the past 17 days since I had Elisha, there was a increment of days when I noticed a trend -- my coffee would hit the microwave 2-3 times before I had a chance to consume it.  I read this article about how microwaving changes molecular structure of liquids.  If that's true, then by the time I get to my coffee, I wonder if I'm even drinking coffee anymore.  Yesterday I noticed in the middle of the afternoon that my coffee was still sitting in the microwave from that morning.  My husband tells me that maybe I should get used to drinking lukewarm.  I think I was in the middle of a Bible lesson when I said, "I spue out lukewarm."

I already said I would not give up painting my nails as a mother -- something needs to keep me feeling like a woman, and nails just happen to be my barrier between hot mama and mama who's hot because her wardrobe standards have degraded to sweats.  I reminded myself of that 2 days ago as I looked at my 15 days postpartum, UNPAINTED nails.  I quickly slapped some of my preteen daughter's white nail polish on them.  I thank the inventor of '50 seconds till dry' nail polish.  Too bad 50 seconds also doesn't include hardener; it seems we can only get one or the other.  Drat.  That nail polish chipped the very next day while I was preparing my kitchen for the Shabbat with all the cleaning.  Getting back to why I started talking about nails, just so you don't think I totally had a 'squirrel' moment -- I realize I just may have to give up the nails temporarily, but don't ask me to give up the warm beverage.

I had thought of naming it "Cold Coffee & Dead Battery" because at least one of my communicating devices are ever on a dying battery.  I do apologize to those whose phone calls I do not answer -- I'm either running on no battery or no time.  Then again I say "no time" when I will reply to a text message.  Maybe I should say I'm running on no ear.  Mine have reached their chaotic threshold.

With the exception to this past week (because my in-laws were visiting), we still managed to get our school work, house work, Bible studies, dance practices, and meals made each day.  I may not be able to accept lukewarm, but in order to get my daily schedule done I'm willing to accept that change of molecular structure.