Life and Death and Baking

I had a satisfying, incredibly productive day yesterday.

 

Back home, I had friends who attended three different funerals. A twenty-two year old, Cameron, whose funeral was held in a performing arts center and had 1,300 people attend – standing room only. A forty-something year old woman, Robin, leaving behind a husband and two young daughters. Someone I vaguely remember whose death did not touch me in quite the same way, but affected many of my friends and family members. And a grandmother, Pixie, someone who I knew years ago, whose kids we hung out with when I wasn’t yet a teenager.

 

All three taken quite suddenly from this Earth, leaving behind family and friends to grieve and ask why.

 

I was reflecting on how different my day would have been yesterday had I been back home, and as much as I wish I could have been there, particularly for Cameron’s funeral, I am glad I was here, in my home. I spent time with my kids, baked scones and cookies and bread, made a big pot of hearty lentil soup to greet Mike when he came home from a twelve-hour day.

 

There have been many weeks like this last one in my life – death seems to come in threes and I’ve seen it happen time and again. This week on Facebook has been full of photos and memories of all three people, some memories I am able to share and others that I can only imagine. My family and friends have been deeply affected by the sudden deaths of three people, the youngest of these perhaps leaving the loudest legacy and most vibrant memories.

 

We all question the death of young people from time to time. At times their deaths are brought on quite obviously by their chosen lifestyles – drugs, alcohol, etc. In the case of Cameron, he was driving. His seatbelt was on, he hadn’t been drinking. He was a good kid, a senior in university looking at the possibility of pro-baseball in his future. The captain of his university baseball team. He was kind – a report from a local news source said that he was a Big Brother to a young boy with a brain tumour, that he gave of himself so easily.

These are the deaths we question. But in the end, there is usually nothing we could have done to prevent them.

 

And the truth is that life goes on. Children are born who never knew those who went before them. I think back to my Aunt Fran – my Grandpa Orcutt’s sister – who died nearly ten years ago and never met my husband or my kids. To my Grandma Orcutt, who never got to meet Ben and never will meet the baby I’m carrying, at least not on this Earth. To Mike’s grandpa, who I never even got to meet. I think about my dad’s dad, who is dying of cancer and not expected to live much longer. But life goes on, whether we want it to or not.

 

And so I’ll go on baking and living and having my babies. Trying to keep the house clean, planning for the future, budgeting and grocery shopping. And others will go as well. That is perhaps the scariest part about going on living – never knowing when someone you love just won’t be there anymore. But all we can do is live our lives to the fullest, and hopefully share God’s love with those around us. Tell people we love them while we have a chance to. Teach our kids about those who went before them and what they did for their loved ones.

 

Those who go will not be forgotten, at least not in our lifetimes, but eventually we will all be part of history, and all we can do is attempt to leave the right things behind us - love and hope and faith.

April 19th, 2012

Estimated arrival date of baby number five.

My House

Today, for the first time in a long time, I feel like writing. I always know it’s time when I start doing it in my head.

When Mike and I bought this house six years ago, we looked around at the laminate flooring, the big kitchen with lots of cupboards, the open space, bare walls and thought, “This is going to be wonderful.” It was so much bigger than our apartment (actually, it may possibly be smaller than the apartment, as the apartment building we were in only has two bedrooms in the 800 sq ft range and up) and we imagined having a kid or two more here and being very comfortable.

Well, here we are, three kids later, six of us in this house. And I still love it. I’m just ready to move on. I have various cupboards, rolling plastic drawers, file cabinets, shelves, etc. holding up all our stuff. This house would be perfect for a single person, an older couple without any kids at home, or a couple who have not had children yet. It was perfect for us with just Jenny, and if we had only ever had her, it may have been enough for us for a long time. But three little boys thrown into the mix and it’s getting to be time to move.

Trouble is, there’s just so much left to be done. There is work on the outside of the house, work on the inside of the house, painting, cleaning, organizing, and eventually packing – which I particularly dread. But I know it has to be done, all of it. We bought this house for next to nothing, really, and if we fix a few simple things, we should make around $100,000 on it. That’s a good chunk of change to put into a new house. But if we don’t fix things up, we’ll be looking at a good deal less. Putting less than $5,000 into the house to make around $20,000 (that’s just my estimate) seems worth it to me.

Anyway, in the middle of all the work that needs to be done, there are still dishes and laundry and sweeping up to do. And four little kids to take care of. And in another month, two of those kids to homeschool. So, right now, I’m praying for motivation, strength and patience. Motivation to keep up on my everyday chores, strength to make it through the next few months, which I’m sure will be tough, and patience with my kids, who will be caught in the middle of all this busyness and quite possibly will not like it one bit.

Has it been too long?

What can I say? It’s summer time. Mind you, we’ve spent half our summer so far dealing with record rainfall, but still. There have been many trips to the park, a visit from my dad, Canada Day celebrations and lots of days playing in the backyard on the trampoline.

And now I’m going to get busier for the next two weeks with VBS. We are doing a pioneer theme and I’m running the memory verse room for the younger kids (4-6 years old or so). I get to set it up like a pioneer schoolroom, something I first saw as very challenging but now am having a good deal of fun with.

Anyway, I’m not making any promises regarding new material in the next few weeks. Maybe when things slow down at the end of the month.

I hope you’re all having a fantastic summer!

For the record

Chocolate chip cookies made with part butter, part peanut butter are, in a word, fantastic.

Like, really, really good.

Mike said he doesn’t like them that much more than regular chocolate chip cookies, but I’m a big peanut butter fan, so for me, they were awesome. I will make them again. And again.

Here’s my recipe, in case you’re hunting for a good one. The best trick I know is to NOT overbake these. Pull them out when they are just barely brown on the bottom. They will actually be just undercooked inside, but not to the point of being doughy.

Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies (or, if you like, Perfect Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies)

3/4 cup softened butter (or for the peanut butter variety, use 1/2 cup butter and 1/4 cup peanut butter)

1/4 cup white sugar, 1 cup brown sugar

Blend butter and sugars with hand mixer until fluffy.

Add 1 egg and 2 tsp vanilla extract. Mix well.

In a separate bowl, mix 2 cups flour (I use unbleached all purpose), 2 tsp cornstarch, 1 tsp baking soda and 1/2 tsp salt (if you used salted butter or peanut butter, use 1/4 tsp salt). Mix dry ingredients into wet.

Fold in chocolate chips. I never measure them, but just make sure there is a decent amount mixed through the dough. I’ve also used peanut butter chips and they turn out double-yummy. Did I mention that I like peanut butter?

Round on spoon and drop onto cookie sheets. Bake for eight minutes (that’s how long they take in my oven, hey may take longer in yours). Allow cookies to sit on pan for one minute before removing to wire rack to cool.

I have adapted this recipe from one a dear friend gave me years ago. Thanks, Marcy!

Birthday Season

Would someone please tell my womb that May/June is off limits next time? Thanks.

May 21st was Ben’s first birthday (apparently I wrote my post on his birthday so late in the day that it registered as the 22nd. Oops). June 1st was Jenny’s sixth birthday and today is Erik’s third birthday. After this one we get a three month break until Elias’s fifth birthday. Phew. Busy, busy.

Erik got up this morning looking pretty sleepy. I wished him a happy birthday and he said, “Where my cake?” Because to a three year old, the birthday is apparently all about the cake. I think Jenny’s question on her birthday was, “Where are my presents?” Erik will get there.

Anyway, it’s busy, so posts are few and far between. It’s not just because of birthdays, but also because of of the Stanley Cup Finals (Mike is a HUGE Canucks fan) and this last weekend, our church family camp. Family camp was a blast. I wore myself out going out on a canoe twice, a kayak twice, and back and forth all over camp because I kept forgetting things in my cabin. Thanks, brain, for helping me get all that exercise!

At least hockey will be over after tonight. The big question is whether this game will leave my husband, sister-in-law, brother-in-law, father-in-law and countless other fans, elated for the rest of the summer or depressed. I’m going to watch the game but I’m a bit nervous….the mood is not going to be great if they don’t pull this one off.

Enough of that.

I made The Pioneer Woman’s iced coffee overnight and had some this morning. Cold brewing really does make a smoother cup of coffee. Who knew? Today I’m thinking about tweaking my standard (and wonderful) chocolate chip cookie recipe to include a portion of peanut butter in place of the butter. Here’s hoping it works!

And that, ladies and gentleman, is all she wrote.

Poem for an afternoon in June

One in his bed, one in the bath,

Two on the trampoline, having a laugh.

Laundry is done, waiting to fold.

Kids are all happy, no one to scold.

This is a good afternoon for a mother,

I’m so very glad I’m not any other.

Tidbits

Jenny is turning six tomorrow. I am having a hard time believing it. She is talking constantly about the presents she’s going to get, the friends that will come to her party, and her pink, pink, PINK cake. I’m strategizing for the party and all that pink. White cake turned pink, pink raspberry filling (and maybe some pink cream cheese icing as filling, too?), pink icing and pink flowers. Did I mention that pink is Jenny’s favourite colour. Yeah.

We have a cold. Erik got this cold, started coughing, and went from sort of sick, to sick with pneumonia, overnight in the ICU sick. This is the third time he’s had pneumonia that we know of. I am ready for this to end, for him to be healthy. Which leads me to my third tidbit…

I have been completely absorbed in the book A More Excellent Way by Henry Wright. My in-laws went to his course in Georgia last year and to another one last month. Their lives have been changed. This book and the Be In Health ministry throws a wrench into everything you thought you knew about illness and health. What if you repented and renounced bitterness, fear, jealousy, etc. and were healed? Thousands of people have done just that. Healed of cancers, healed of allergies, chronic, inherited illnesses, etc. I was skeptical until I started reading the medical science behind it and the testimonies of so many people who have gone through this. Mike and I were already planning to go to the For My Life course in Georgia in the future, but now it feels even more important that we go, just to get a handle on where some of these issues are coming from. I am a broken, damaged person probably holding on to things I don’t even recognize. The idea that my physical issues (difficulty losing weight, low immune function, fatigue, allergies, etc) could be tied to my spiritual health has never occured to me before.  The possibility that I have passed some of this to my children already is disturbing. I want to be healthy and whole and I want my husband and children to have the same.

Ben is sleeping until four or five in the morning now. We spent a week sleeping on our hide-a-bed in the living room, letting him cry. I wore earplugs. It worked. I’m pretty happy with where he’s at now and won’t mind if he keeps that early morning feeding for awhile longer. He’s still nursing once after that around eight and at two before naptime and also at bedtime. Four feedings in a twenty-four hour period for a one year old is still a lot compared to some kids, but compared to before, when he was probably having as many as eight feedings a day, it’s good.

I’m getting a tetanus shot on Friday. Jenny and Elias are getting boosters for diptheria, pertussis, tetanus and polio. I told them I would go first. That doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to it.

I haven’t done anything very creative for quite awhile. I’m looking forward to making Jenny’s cake for that very reason. Yes, it’s just going to be eaten, but it is something I really enjoy.

That’s it. I figured I owed the blog at least a little bit of updating.

Multi-tasking

First off, today was Ben’s first birthday. I made him a cake (which ended up tasting like baking soda…but at least the icing was good), we made a big meal for family and he seemed to enjoy his day.

I decided a while back that I was going to cut Ben’s hair today. It’s part of my obsessive perfectionist issues. I cut his hair at exactly eight months, I cut it again at exactly ten months…you get the picture. I imagine one day I’ll get over it.

So he needed a bath rather desperately after digging into that awful cake. The last few baths he’s had he screamed his way through, so I decided to get in with him. I cut his hair a bit before I ran the water in the tub and figured that would be all I could do because of how wiggly he was being. So we got in the tub, he didn’t freak out (much) and I gave him a good scrub. Then I decided that I may as well try to cut his hair a bit while he was in the tub and his hair was wet. It was ridiculously long before, but I don’t feel quite ready to buzz him yet. So I got the scissors and a comb and started randomly grabbing chunks of hair and snipping away. All the while I’m thinking, “This is probably a bad idea. It’s going to look terrible…I don’t even know what I’m doing!”

So he sat for a few minutes and a few snips and then squirmed and splashed so much that I decided to give up. But then the perfectionist in me reminded me of how uneven the whole thing was going to look. Okay, fine. So I did the only thing I could to get him to settle down. I nursed him. In the bath. While cutting his hair. It worked.

And not only did it work, it worked well. I got it done and it looks great. The parts that don’t look so good are those that I did before the bath, trying to be more precise. The rest of his hair was just combed up straight and then about half an inch or so cut off. I grabbed pieces as I could and tried to get each part of his head. In the end, we were covered in hair and had to shower off, but at least it got it done. Now I can get used to him looking like a little boy instead of a baby before I buzz him with the rest of the boys in the family.

Here’s a few pictures.

Before

After

Exhaustion Disease

Back in the early months of my marriage, I made up an illness. It’s called “exhaustion disease”. Sometimes it’s clearly my own fault – when Mike and I were first married we often stayed up into the wee hours of the morning talking and laughing, playing games and watching movies. There was one time after Jenny was born when we were so tired that we made up this whole story about people with pepper addictions, and how all of society in this fictional world was dealing with pepper addicts. There were different types of peppers, standard black, white, or exotic rainbow pepper. Sneezing would be considered the ultimate high, hence the pepper. Anyway, we found it so hilarious that we wrote up a whole page of ideas in a notebook (yes, we are geeks, thanks for asking!). We must have been up until at least two in the morning laughing hysterically at our oh-so-clever idea. And then, in the morning, when we tried to relive that by reading our notebook page of thoughts, it just wasn’t funny anymore. The only thing left over then was this terrible exhaustion.

Of course, having small children means that all too often the exhaustion is not really my fault at all. They have needs and desires and demands and Mama gets to take care of most of them.

After painting the living room on Monday and rearranging the furniture yesterday, I figured on today being a restful day. My mastitis is clearly not gone and my muscles ache and protest at nearly any amount of movement. I’m sure that getting a good night sleep would have helped this to some degree, but I was up past midnight anyway. Ben woke up just as I was going to bed after finishing a movie (Temple Grandin – if you haven’t seen it yet, watch it). He stayed in our bed all night and fed too many times to count. And then, before Mike had left for work, I got this strange feeling lying there in bed. I opened my eyes and there was Elias, sitting on our bed watching me sleep. It would have been creepy if he had not had a sweet smile on his face. But still, it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet! (I’m not a morning person…)

So today, I am suffering from exhaustion disease. I fell asleep sitting up in my rocking chair this morning. I had been holding Ben and then put him down and when I next paid any attention to what was going on, Erik was on my lap instead. Talk about confusion. So I moved to the couch and stayed there until after Mike went back to work after lunch. Eventually I managed to haul myself off of the couch to make lunch, but let me tell you, it was not easy.

I’d like to crawl into my bed, put some earplugs in my ears and a sleep mask on my eyes and sleep for at least twenty-four hours. I think that might just be the cure.