(my first!) 7 Quick Takes Friday

 


one.

I've been wanting to give 7 Quick Takes a try for a while now.  Here goes!




 two.

I told my husband recently that I'm going to call his grandma and ask her to teach me how to cook.  It's not what you're thinking.  His grandma always worked while they were raising their 9 children, and I think because of the  lack of time this created, she's famous for serving convenience foods.  Mr. Smith spent a lot of time over there growing up, and he remembers $1 frozen pizzas and salisbury steak t.v. dinners quite well.  I've set a different standard for my family and, for better or worse, now they expect it.  My exhaustedly-pregnant self told him that one of these nights I'm going to throw some tater tots on a pan, boil a package of hot dogs, and call it dinner.  He looked pretty appalled.

three.

I bought some new clothes.  This is a pretty rare occurrence around here, but I was starting to feel uncomfortable in my regular clothes.  I wasn't quite ready to break out the maternity yet, so I was trying to bridge the gap with a couple of shirts from the "regular" department that are cut a bit more generously.  I found a blouse I liked that was not like anything I have already, but I thought I could pull it off.  It's more of a trendy style, with multi-colored stripes.  I took the plunge and brought it home.  I got dressed for Mass on Sunday and put it on for the first time.  Blake (you know, 12 year old boy, wears the same jeans with a rotation of 3 t-shirts continuously, has never once noticed clothing of any kind, much less given an opinion on it) walks into the kitchen, takes one look at me, and says, "WHAT are you WEARING?!".  

Are you kidding me?  Really helpful for the self-confidence.

four.

I was able to hear this little peanut's heartbeat at a regular OB appointment this week.  It took the doc a minute to find it, but there it was!  So exciting.  I'm not repulsed by most foods anymore, and my energy is coming back slowly but surely.  Second trimester, here I come!

five.

Do you realize that January is almost over already?!  WHERE does the time go?  I can practically smell Spring.  Practically.

six.

 

 Have y'all seen this?  Hilarious.  That's exactly what I look like when I remember.
I'd love to give credit for it, but I just copied it off of facebook, no idea whose it is originally.



seven.

Speaking of ...(sigh)... facebook, I absolutely hate it.  I really do.  The minute I start to think I like it and I might start using it more, I get offended/annoyed by ten things in a row on there and I want to delete my account immediately.  I actually just kind of ruined my good mood just going on there for that picture.  The first "story" by a family member seriously hurt my feelings!  I never would have known anything about it if it weren't for facebook, and I would have been better off.  I have lots more thoughts on this, for another day.  I think me and facebook are going to part ways soon.

HAPPY FRIDAY!!


Go visit the fabulous Jennifer Fulwiler for more Quick Takes!

It's Just Nuts

One pistachio.

That's all it took to wreak complete and total havoc on Oliver's body last Thursday.

I was eating pistachios for an afternoon snack, and he asked if he could have them.  I thought about it for a second, and told him we could try it.

It's at this point in telling the story that I've seen, several times, the slight raise of an eyebrow.  So far everyone has thought better than to question my judgement out loud, but the sentiment is there.  If anyone chose to actually say something to me I'd just say, "Go ahead, judge away.  Until you've lived a day with my child, the credibility of your opinion on this subject is nil.  You try telling the boy with five healthy, typical brothers, that this thing he's interested in trying is just one more thing on the mile-long list of stuff he can't touch with a ten foot pole.  You look at those brown eyes and tell him that it's not worth trying, just in case.  You aren't there at birthday parties when he's eating a sandwich and lollipop instead of pizza, cake, and ice cream, and you weren't the one who had to finally explain to him that he's not going to be able to eat like his brothers just because he reaches a certain age, which is what he had thought all along, that he just wasn't old enough yet.  You have no idea."

So yes, he's severely allergic to peanuts, and that may seem to rule out pistachios as well.  Except that pistachios are actually a tree nut, more closely related to pecans and almonds, which we've found (by trial and error) that Oliver can tolerate.  So in my mind, it was worth a try.

He took one pistachio, ate it, looked at me and said, "I don't think I should have eaten that."  He knew that quickly.  His lips began to swell right before my eyes and he told me his throat felt hot and it was hard to swallow.  I raced for the benedryl and watched him drink two teaspoons of the liquid down as though he were trying to swallow a horse pill.  By the time we got to the emergency room he was wheezing, and his body was unrecognizable from his neck down to his knees, where the hives raged so out of control that they were blending together into one enormous, hideous patch of disfigured skin.  His cheeks were bright red, his eyes full of fear, and the first nurse to see him yelled frantically for a pulse ox machine.  An epi-shot to his stomach and an IV pump of more meds than I care to recall later, and the symptoms began to subside.  He lay on the gurney, in a tiny hospital gown that I hope to never again see one of my children wearing, and drifted off to sleep.  I was left to my thoughts as he recovered.

I recalled the exchange I had had with one of the doctors.  She was trying to establish a timeline of events and said, "Okay, so he was eating the pistachios --"  I cut her off, telling her, "He ate one pistachio."  "One pistachio?" as she looked down at my ailing son.  The absurdity of it seemed to ring with both of us, and at the same time, as his mother, the fragility of life hit me.  One silly pistachio. Without prompt and skillful medical care, it had the potential to take the life of my son.

Most mornings I can't predict where the course of the day will take me.  Some days I'm more surprised than others.

Sewing Project: Cloaks

There was a sewing machine that I had had my eye on for quite a while, and it went on a good sale sometime before Christmas.  Mr. Smith ordered it for me, and because he's terrible at keeping secrets, I got my big present well ahead of the holiday.  This worked out really well though, because I was able to use it to make several Christmas gifts for friends and family.

I learned to sew in a Home Economics class in high school.  I loved that class, and it really did give me the gift of a useful life skill in sewing.  I remember vividly (which I really can't say for much of anything else in high school) learning how to thread the machine and learning the basic rules of sewing.  The project we made that year was the ugliest sweatshirt imaginable, but it did the job, I knew how to sew. 

(It's my understanding that these classes are largely unavailable in schools now.  Perhaps it's too demeaning to expect a student to learn basic homemaking skills.  It's really a shame.)

I didn't do anything with a sewing machine again until after we were married and Mr. Smith bought me my very first one.  It was the most basic model on the market, and I loved it.  I still only had a very rudimentary knowledge of sewing, but I got by on my ability to improvise.  I never really followed patterns, just made things up as I went along.  I made Halloween costumes, curtains and pillows, and it served me well for about 10 years.  The last few times I had gotten it out however, it was in poor condition.  It sounded like a jackhammer when I ran it, and my thread kept snapping.  I knew it was time for a new machine.

I know this new one is still a very basic sewing machine, compared to what's on the market today, but to me it's the fanciest thing I could hope to own!  It's digital, with lots of automatic functions, 66 embroidery stitch options, and a quilting accessory package.  Quilting is one of my goals.  I made a quilt once, for our godson, and I absolutely loved the process.  Now I have a craft closet to keep my supplies organized, and a sewing table in our bedroom, so my machine is always accessible.  I just need the inspiration and time to try quilting again!

My last thought for now is about my projects themselves.  I have made so many things throughout the years as gifts...and sent them off to their recipients without ever taking a picture!  It's terrible, I know.  It really is my New Year's resolution to take more pictures and be more responsible about actively documenting our lives.

So, I'm starting here.  Back in the fall, Owen wanted me to make him a cloak so he could be a Ranger for Halloween:

 It's camouflage fabric and hangs to his ankles.

I used a plain black hair tie secured with a fabric loop to one side, and a button on the other side to close it at the neck.  All the cloaks have hoods, and a pocket on the inside for books and treasures.

Immediately, Blake wanted one too, and first used his for All Saints Day when he dressed up as St. Nicholas (a young Nicholas, riding through the night in his dark cloak, secretly tossing bags of gold into the homes of the needy):

I used some of my fancy embroidery stitches to embellish them.  Blake's is made from an old set of curtains.

Of course, after that Peyton and Oliver were begging for them, as the older boys took to wearing theirs around the house all the time.  By then I was planning sewing projects for Christmas gifts though, and any more cloaks got put on the back burner.  I eventually decided to make Peyton and Oliver theirs as Christmas gifts, and they were surprised to receive them Christmas morning:

I made theirs out of fleece, partly because I thought it would be warm and cozy, and partly because that way I could avoid a lot of hemming!

Finally, the older boys had been mentioning that Isaac and Sebastian needed cloaks, and I couldn't really argue with that.  I used scraps from the fleece to piece together the last two.  Neither one of the little ones really likes theirs, but it's the cutest darn thing ever when they let us put them on them!

 Isaac, especially, doesn't care for the way his feels on him, but he tries so hard to be like his older brothers.  I'm pretty sure he has only a diaper on under there.  Now you know how Isaac prefers to spend his days.

Really, I'm fairly certain I could have just posted this picture and called it a day.  I can't get enough of this little man.

So that's that!  It's been a lot of fun making something that the boys appreciate so much.  They tell me I need to make one for myself now :o).  That's not sounding like such a bad idea, what with how chilly the house has been lately.  Maybe if I find a pretty fabric...

A Step in the Right Direction

Look - A picture!

The inherited camera works!  Should do just fine to get us through until we can get one of our own.  A decent one?  Before the new baby comes?  Here's hoping...
Turns out Mr. Smith must have picked this one up and snapped a few pictures on Christmas morning.  Yay!  Of course, I have no recollection of him doing this because this was me on Christmas morning:

Yikes.  I'm slightly better off than that in the mornings now, with a couple more weeks of this pregnancy behind me.  Slightly.
Hooray for pictures!

He Just Might Be On To Something

Isaac (3 1/2 yrs.) has come a long way with his speech.   He's putting together 3-4 word sentences like a pro, and is finally using his brothers' names regularly,.  Of course, we weren't aware of it at the time, but it turns out it was kind of a cruel thing to do to give him a little brother named Sebastian.  He's never even attempted to say that one.  He's called him "Baby" all along, and I don't see him trying anything different any time soon.  Since much of my speech during the day is directed toward Isaac, I too have taken to calling Sebastian "Baby", as have most of the other people in the house.  We've commented lately on the dilemma we'll have when we have a real baby in the house again.
Oliver came up with a solution today.  Out of the blue, he said, "Why don't we just call the new baby "Sebastian", and keep calling him "Baby"?"
Makes sense to me.  It's a great name.  And if you aren't using something, it's the responsible thing to do to recycle it, right?

Checking In

Well, I can hardly call myself a blogger these days, really.  I'd like to spend more time in this space, but it always seems there are obstacles. 
A broken camera, for instance.  Blogging is just not as effective, nor as fulfilling, without being able to add pictures to my posts.  I inherited an old camera recently though, so maybe I'll try it out.
Of course the busy days that are Advent and Christmas don't leave much extra time for anything.  Throw in some long work hours for Mr. Smith, out of town visitors, and cold running through the house... it all kind of becomes a blur.
There was something else too... I can't remember... oh yes!  The fact that I've been indescribably tired and nauseous because of the baby I'm growing in my belly.  That's right, I knew there was something else.
Yup, we found out the evening of the first Sunday of Advent.  A beautiful early Christmas present, an incredible intention for our St. Andrew Novena this year, and a startling source of personal growth for this mama, all wrapped up by God Himself.
There's more, so much more.  But for tonight, my pillow is calling.  I hope to be back soon, as I have so much to share.
Blessings to all, in this glorious Christmas season, on the cusp of a bright and hopeful new year!

Quote of the Day

Peyton:  "Mama, 8 and 9 are going to be my big years."

Me:  "Oh yeah, how come?"

Peyton:  "When I'm 8:  Reconciliation and First Communion.  When I'm 9:  The next time we go to Great Wolf Lodge, I can go in the hot pools."  (hot tubs)

I'm just thankful that the sacraments are held in such high esteem to be listed right with the "hot pools" ;o).

Picture This:

An enormous breakfast table, with chairs aplenty.  Six boys, from quite big, down to pretty little.  Cereal bowls and breakfast supplies here and there and everywhere.  An advent wreath, pushed over to the side for a game of hockey with a bottle cap.  Everyone playing and laughing.  Pure joy.

Enough

I've made a decision.

I've decided that I will not spend this Advent season clicking around the internet looking for ways to enhance and enrich our experience of the season (read:  making myself crazy).

I will remember that our Advent last year was wonderful, and by simply maintaining the traditions we already have I'll be respecting the season and my family.

I will seek joy in small things, and do my best to point those around me toward the light of that Babe in the manger.

I will accept the grace that inevitably comes when He blesses my efforts. 

And it will be enough. 

Dusting Off the Keyboard

I've been thinking about getting back to this little blog of mine for awhile now, so I thought I'd ease my way back in with just a quick hello...
And a little bit of honesty -- that title isn't exactly accurate.  This keyboard never has time to gather dust, and certainly hasn't lately.  I've been a busy girl, bustling through school with the kids, gathering myself for this upcoming liturgical year, and I've got a little project I've been working on that I'm calling "Mother's Handbook".
Will be back to share soon - promise!

Quote of the Day

From the guy giving me an estimate on taking down a dead tree.
While surveying the backyard and sandbox full of kids:

"Oh cool, so you guys have... like a daycare thing going on here."

No sir, they're all mine :o).

Owenisms

While lamenting our sleepover policy:

"Dude!  Caillou is FOUR and he's going on a sleepover!"

While reading his English assignment from the Seton lesson plans:

"They seriously expect a KID to do this stuff?!"


While following me through the fabric store:

(calmly) "Is there a brick, or a wall or something around here?"  (with more gusto) "So I can BANG MY HEAD AGAINST IT?"


This kid is seriously fun to be around.