zach n kali

Somehow November disappeared.  As I look at our beautiful Christmas tree and the rain falling outside (our California version of snow) I don't know when we got here.  Where did the month of Thanksgiving go?  In light of the fact that I dropped of the radar for a month, I would like to post the top 3 things I am most thankful for. 1.  The daily saving grace given to me by my Heavenly Father Being a mom is hard.  Having fibromyalgia is hard.  Being human is hard!  But thankfully I'm not going through my day alone, and I have someone fighting in my corner, giving me strength when I need it, peace amidst turmoil, and wisdom when I lack it.  I have a tendency to worry about the future, but thankfully I often hear my very wise mother's voice in my head: "One day at a time".  We are given exactly what we need for the moment;  why try to make things harder by adding the burdens of tomorrow?  God's mercies are new every morning (Lam. 3:22-23). 2.  My family I l

Luke 12: 48 (NIV) From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked. We have recently moved!  Our small space living has expanded to a sweet little house in Bellflower.  What an incredible gift this has been!  We have loved decorating, painting, and unpacking the boxes and boxes of books that have become a fixture in our home.  It has been so much fun setting up a real nursery and taking advantage of our backyard.  One of the things that we were hoping to be able to do with more space was to continue providing a safe home for children in need.  But it's easy to get comfortable!  It's easy to say, "when we're more settled", or "when we know more about M's future" or "when I'm healthier".  The great thing about asking God to lead you is that he will - even when you're "not ready".  Our hearts have wanted to do more, but our action

I love baby dedications; I think I cry every single time.  We were incredible blessed yesterday to dedicate our sweet Baby M to God before our church family.  Our family joined us at church and we were more than excited.  But in the true spirit of unpredictability, M decided that he didn't like being on stage, and he screamed the entire time.  Who would have thought that my sweet mellow child would be the one to absolutely freak out during his dedication?  Not me.  I was flustered, embarrassed, and pretty upset.  You have an idea of how something will go and you want to remember the day a certain way, and it's upsetting when things don't go as you imagine. After the service, our pastor came up to us and said the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth.  I was waiting for the inevitable, "Well... that was something else..."  But instead, with a huge smile on his face, he said "That was cool".  I'm sorry, what?  Cool?  He screamed the whole ti

For all you new and future parents out there who thought that you would feel more rested after the baby sleeps through the night, I have great news for you: I have never been so tired in my life!  Once these sweet darlings discover how to walk and stand, you have to stay four steps ahead of them.  It's 1:30pm, and just this morning M has unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper, emptied the trashcan into the bathtub, eaten (and immediately spit out!) candle wax, spilled milk on the floor, emptied a box that I'm trying to pack three times, hidden my cell phone, sprayed himself with Cherry Blossom body spray, smeared you-know-what all over the changing table, and since it's quiet right now, I can only assume he's into something else.  And all that with a nap in the middle.  Some of you might be picturing my son as an out-of-control-undisciplined little maniac, but the truth is that he's a very well-behaved baby.  But he has discovered the freedom that comes with walkin

The cupboards are looking pretty empty!  But with the addition of bell peppers, heavy cream, and zucchini, we were able to pull together some tasty meals last week.  Using peanut butter and peanuts pulled out of some trail mix (in my opinion, there are always too many peanuts in relation to everything else) we enjoyed chicken satay with peanut sauce.  The next night we had coconut flour pancakes, using peanut oil for the canola, and homemade vanilla-rum syrup.  I made brown-rice pasta with vodka cream sauce, thanks to the canned tomatoes and garlic in my pantry, and on Thursday I used our plain yogurt with spices to marinate chicken skewers that we ate with con tortillas.  On Friday we adventured out to Dang Crabs! for some good ol' cajun food.  What I love about Groupon is that they often encourage you to try things that you normally never would. For me, this was a crab boil.  Thankfully the owner of the restaurant came over and gave us an awesome tutorial on how to properly attac

Before you have even opened your eyes, you just know that it's going to be "one of those" days.  You're still tired, but the baby's crying and the yard service started half and hour ago.  The weather forecast says it's going to be over 100 degrees today. You go into the kitchen and before the cheerios even have a chance to hit the tray, they are on the floor along with some pasta that you missed during last night's cleanup.  You just want to go back to bed.  It's definitely going to be one of those days. But this is where you have a choice.  It's easy to let the morning rule the rest of the day.  It's easy to assume that a bad morning will lead to a bad day.  Or you can stop and consider each minute a chance to start over.  Mine changed with a hug after breakfast.  It continued with a decision to be productive and get something done that I would feel good about.  It changed when I sat down with a cup of good coffee to return calls and emails.

Things are getting a bit more interesting.  Today it was rainy and cold - a rarity here in southern California, so I decided to make soup for dinner.  I forget that leftovers are not a common occurrence in a house with growing boys, so I had to revamp my dinner plan.  Raiding the fridge and cupboards I found just what I needed.  That's right, dinner tonight was made out of chicken broth, an onion, dried thyme, mozzarella cheese, and a tortilla.  I call it "Pretend French Onion Soup".  Thank goodness for a Crock-Pot.  Since I don't eat beef and I can't eat french bread, tonight provided the perfect opportunity to try out a classic.  I used chicken broth instead of beef stock and baked a tortilla brushed with olive oil until it was nice and crispy.  I can't tell you what real French Onion Soup tastes like, but this seemed like a decent imitation.  For tomorrow I have some tomatillos that are begging to be made into salsa verde, so tacos are on the menu.

Last night I didn't really feel like cooking dinner.  But since I'm always in the mood to bake, I decided we would have strawberry bread (I didn't have any over-ripe bananas on hand) and I would cook up some bacon that my brother had left in our freezer for my boys.  I'm thankful for a husband who doesn't always expect a meat-and-potatoes dinner and for a steady supply of spaghetti-os for my little one. But tonight I need to cook.  Last week I finally hit my limit for eating oatmeal in the morning, and I asked Zach to pick up a box of Chex cereal for me.  He came home with three, telling me that it would be much more interesting to mix and match them instead of being stuck with straight rice or corn Chex.  And then for fun he added a box of honey corn Chex.  That one I polished off quickly, but I am now stuck with two family size boxes of Chex.  Thankfully I have a recipe for a rice and chicken tetrizini that calls for rice-cereal crumbs on top!  So the chicken

And so it begins.  Last week's meals were all planned out and shopped for.  Now is where it gets interesting.  Dinner tonight was grilled chicken sausage (leftover from pizza) with potato salad.  I love potato salad because I always seem to have potatoes and I can usually find substitutes for any of the required ingredients.  My no-fail Bobby Flay recipe calls for white wine vinegar and jalapenos, but I used red wine vinegar and red bell peppers.  I have also used pickle relish and celery in the past.  My main problem was that I didn't have any mayonnaise, but I wasn't going to break my challenge and go out and buy something I would never use.  So I decided to make my own!  Eggs, olive oil, canola oil, lemon juice, mustard, salt, pepper, voila!  I have kept my word and dinner was a success.  The rest of the week may be interesting, but thankfully there are plenty of eggs in the fridge for my other no-fail option: the omelet!

As I mentioned yesterday, we are moving soon. With this I have given myself a challenge: to use up all or at least most of the edible items in the house. Why am I doing this? Mainly because I hate packing, and well, I have been watching too much Chopped lately. But here is the goal: over the next three weeks to only shop for perishables such as milk and fruits and vegetables and to clean out my cupboards. This began last night with using a bag of quinoa that has been sitting in the back of my cupboard since I was diagnosed with Celiac disease. It has never looked nor sounded appetizing, but tonight it made a lovely base for my chicken cacciatore. Will I buy it again? Probably not. But now I don't have to pack it and allow it to take up space in my new cupboard for the next four to six years. Tonight we will be having quessadillas using the leftover meat from Monday's fajitas and the 100 pack of corn tortillas that you are forced to buy. I will use my blog to keep m

There are many "firsts" that we will probably remember forever - first day of college, first kiss, the first time you conquered a fear... Over the past few weeks I have had a blast enjoying many of Baby M's firsts that he will more than likely not remember, but will hopefully all contribute to a deeply rooted sense that he is loved. On September 10th we celebrated his first birthday with friends and family in a Monsters Inc. themed party. I cannot express to you how blessed I was to share this day with loved ones who were equally sharing it with us. Zach's brother showed up as Mike Wazowski and was a great sport as three of the kids chased him around the yard. It meant so much to me as family jumped in to help without us even asking and even though M probably didn't have a clue what was going on, he was loved. Then a few days later M and I took his first airplane trip to Colorado! It was definitely a new experience flying with a little one, and don't t

Last night Zach and I went to a training at Olive Crest in order to maintain our foster care license. The theme of the night was a documentary called From Place to Place followed by a discussion. The movie followed three children who had been placed in group homes as teenagers and what happened to them when they aged out of the system. The statistics were shocking. 40% of these youths will end up homeless. Over 70% of the girls will end up pregnant and over 70% of the boys will end up in prison. How can we as a society and especially as a church be ok with this? These children enter the system angry and troubled and are often "too difficult" for foster parents to handle. Instead of sticking with the children through the issues and loving them unconditionally - through the self-sabotage, through the anger, through the tough times - these children are passed from home to home and will eventually end up as a number in a group home. There they may be overmedicated and d

It's not that I didn't before the other night. But I have now had a first-hand experience with them. My brother was flying out to China for three months, so I was taking him to LAX to catch his 1am flight. I have major anxiety about missing flights, so even though I knew I needed to get gas, I figured I could make it to the airport. The drop-off was successful, Toby made his flight and is now in Beijing. My gas gauge was way below the E at this point, but anyone who know the area around LAX knows that Watts, Compton, and Inglewood are probably not the best places for a girl to get gas by herself at 11:30 at night. So I said a prayer and hoped that I would make it to the end of the freeway where I knew I'd be safe and there were gas stations. Well... the prayer was answered. Literally seconds after I got off the freeway my car sputtered and slowly began to die. The gas station was probably a hundred yards away and I was loping along on borrowed time. The left turn

Working with a government organization definitely teaches you patience. Either that or it will drive you absolutely batty. This self-proclaimed control freak is stuck somewhere in the middle. It's 9:45 and I'm sitting here waiting for my 9:00 appointment with the Department of Child and Family Services. I have two options: 1)seethe internally until the social worker gets here, at which point I will put on a smile and assure here that no, of course it was no problem at all that she was 45 minutes late and didn't call! Or, I can take a deep breath, realize that her being late is not affecting my schedule at all - I don't have anywhere else to be and this would be the perfect time to tackle those dishes! I can be grateful that I have a flexible schedule and have the opportunity to be a full-time foster mom. Not everyone has this luxury, and if I can make the social worker's job a little bit easier by being flexible, then that should be reason enough. I know which atti

I love feeding people, especially those who are "fun to feed". The type who take a bite and close their eyes, who say, "Oh my gosh!", who go back for seconds and thirds. The type who keep eating even after they're full because it's just so good. I'm married to one of these, and M is becoming one too. After each bite of food he has recently been saying, "mmmm" and he claps his hands in between bites. Ok, so maybe I'm reading in to it, but it makes mealtime more fun. This is one reason that I have been trying to discover and create gluten-free recipes that are delicious - I want to continue to feed family and friends and have them love to eat, but without having to make two separate dishes. My first steps into the gluten-free world were not particularly pleasant. The diagnosis of Celiac Disease was a major bummer. But over time, I'm learning the tricks of the trade and I love it when people say in astonishment, "This is glut

Most of the time I find myself so thankful to be where I'm at. I love being a stay-at-home foster mom and feel so blessed that God has called us to minister in this way. I catch myself watching my little boy when I'm supposed to be doing something else and finding myself so deeply in love. He's not doing anything particularly amazing or meeting any new milestones. He may be looking at his books or lying on his back talking to himself. But I cannot believe how much I love him and how blessed I am to have him in my life. And then there are days like today when I am very aware of how my life turned down this road. Days when I feel trapped in my own home because I lack to strength to go down a flight of stairs. Days when I pray that Baby M won't drop his bottle because bending over hurts so much. Days when I wonder why in the world God decided to use the pain of fibromyalgia to turn my face towards him. His ways are not our ways, that's for sure! Lord, coul

I have met my mortal enemy. Did you know that cheerios have the ability to multiply by 5 as soon as they hit the ground? And they will hit the ground! Based on my recent research, and by that I mean breakfast, 2% of all cheerios on the highchair tray actually reach M's mouth and the rest... well, hopefully we'll find them all when we move. These things bounce like rubber balls and end up everywhere from the kitchen floor to Baby M's pajamas. When I lift him out of his chair it's like a meteor shower of cheerios beneath him. And they crunch! You know the feeling you get when you realize you've stepped on a snail? That's how I feel when I hear the crunch of a cheerio beneath my foot. If any of my former college classmates could see me now, crawling around on the floor in my pajamas, they would definitely think, “Wow! She's gone far!” Ok, well maybe I haven't “gone far”. But I'm right where I want to be, cheerios and all. It's 8:30 in

I love having people over for dinner. I love the conversation, the warm feeling of being with friends, the laughter, and of course, the food! But I of all people know that there are many of us out there with food issues, and it can be intimidating to cook for us. Fortunately, it's not as hard as it sounds! Last night Zach and I were invited for a lovely dinner with family friends. Everything was delicious and gluten free! I was very impressed and so appreciated the time and effort that Carolyn put in to making a gluten-free dinner for me. I thought I would share some of the things she did to help you feel a little more at ease inviting over those with food issues, specifically the gluten-free ones. She served two wonderful salads - one with green beans, chickpeas, and onions, the other with mixed greens, cranberries, nuts, and what I think was feta. On the table she had several different salad dressing to provide options as well as to make sure that one at least was glut

Being gluten-free can sometimes get you into a dinner rut. Being gluten-free, meat-free, and fish-free can REALLY get you into a dinner rut (doesn't that make you want to invite me over for dinner!). In our house, the turkey burger wrapped in lettuce has become a staple. A very boring one. So I am constantly experimenting in order to bring some life to this rather dull dish. Tonight's attempt was a steamed turkey burger with colby jack cheese, mango chutney, and carmelized onions on a bed of spinach. In the past I have had a love-hate relationship with mangoes. I love the flavor, but have never successfully cut one. Even after Zach's aunt gave me an awesome demonstration, I had forgotten it by the time I needed to cut one. My favorite mango story is that when I bought one for the first time, I had never cut one. I've eaten them off of buffet trays and in fruit salads, but have never prepared one myself. So I asked my husband, who knows everything, if he kne

After years of talking about it, Zach and I finally got to go to Zion National Park last weekend! Anyone who has ever been camping before knows how much planning is involved, and for those of us with a chronic pain disorder, this includes planning as to how you are going to pace yourself and keep your pain levels from increasing. Unfortunately, this did not make my to-do list. We had a fabulous time eating, camping, and hiking with our good friends. But 12 hours in a car, sleeping on the ground, and hours and hours of hiking takes a toll on your body, and for me this resulted in several days of excruciating pain. The hard part is that sometimes the effects aren't immediate and while you think you're fine, you may be in a world of hurt later. After the first day home of sucking it up and letting my pride and can-do attitude stand in the way of asking for help, my wonderful family came around me and gave me a day of rest. Just as important as the actual day of rest, how

The concept of mindfulness is the idea that wherever you are, you are there one hundred percent. It doesn't matter if you are catching up with a friend or if you are sitting and quietly having your devotions or commuting on the freeway. Sometimes it's easier than others - who doesn't have 18 things on their minds at one time? But what I'm finding is that when I take the time to focus my energy completely 100% on where I'm at, I find myself in a place of pure contentment. When you are completely involved in the task at hand, you can't think about how you wish things were different or how much work you have to do. I focus on how soft Baby M's hair is. I listen to his laugh. I realize how lucky I am to be sitting on the floor with him reading a book. And suddenly I find that I don't want to be anywhere else in the world. I realize that I have few precious hours with him and see that they go by so fast! My baby is turning into a little boy right befo

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have just had a near death experience. If you think that it was from a toxic spit-up burn or from falling down the stairs while carrying a baby and the other 65lbs of things they require, then you would be wrong. I just had an encounter with the Ghost of Diapers Past. Those of you who do not have children may think that changing a diaper is the grossest thing ever. You would also be wrong. There is a smell so bad that I feel it could literally kill you. Your eyes water, your lungs shut down, and your stomach turns. That is the smell that comes out of the diaper pail when it is filled to the brim, and you leave it open a second too long. I, like Ebenezer Scrooge, am taking my encounter with the Ghost of Diapers Past and using it for the greater good. I am sharing my experience so that you do not experience a similar fate. Empty it before it's too late. Always put the diapers in with lightning speed. And remember that once you have experienced so

Last weekend I had an absolute blast hosting a girls' night here in our home. Everyone contributed to our awesome tostada bar, and my contribution to the night was the mojitos. But as everyone who has ever made a mojito from scratch knows, it does not take a full bottle of club soda or rum, and I definitely overbought on the limes and the mint. So what's a girl to do? Cupcakes. Every single ingredient that goes into a mojito went into these cupcakes. I made a basic white cucpcake with gluten free flour, the usual array of baking powder, salt, etc., egg whites, rum, and club soda. The egg whites and club soda gave the cupcake an airiness that added perfectly to the drink's summer essence. I added some finely chopped mint and some grated lime zest as well. Once they were baked, I poured a butter rum glaze over them, then let them cool completely. The frosting was a basic butter cream, but instead of vanilla, I added lime juice. After frosting each cupcake, I gen

Ever since we got married, Zach and I have lived in a one-bedroom apartment. Less to clean, less expensive, and more than enough room for both of us. Now that there are three of us, we've had to be creative with our use of space. The first thing we had to do was decide what words we wanted to describe our home. For me, those were welcoming, peaceful, cozy, and serene. Here are some other ways that we've made our small space work for us: - Constantly get rid of clutter! Clutter is the bane of my existence. Since storage space is limited, I am constantly going through bookcases and closets to see what we no longer use/like/fit in/etc. It's very freeing to be able to sort through your shirts without having to use brute force! Granted, this philosophy has created a bit of tension between Zach and myself as he is more of a pack-rat and I am more of an exterminator. But sometimes the place just has to be fumigated if you're going to thrive in a small space. - E

I have recently discovered a new way to determine the value of things that I own. Last Friday I went to the beach with some friends and instinctively took off my wedding ring to put suncreen on Baby M. As I was doing this I turned to say something to a friend and when I looked back, M was twisting something around in his fingers. Panic set in as I realized that my rings were no longer where I had placed them and with a mad intensity I grabbed one out of his fingers. My friends heard a crazed "Open your mouth! Please don't swallow that! No!" and thought to themselves, "Geez, it's just sand!" But when I pulled my other ring out of his mouth we all shared a good laugh as my blood pressure returned to normal. All I could think was, "I really don't want to sift through your diapers for this!" And then I would always look at my beautiful ring as "The Poop Ring". Of course this is not the first time Baby M has put something in hi

For those of you who don't know me and for the of you who have always wondered how tall I actually am, I am 5'10". Growing up I used to have these horrible aches in my legs and my mom always told me they were "just growing pains". Well, they were "just excruciating". The good thing was that that they never lasted for too long and eventually the pain went away. Lately I have been experiencing a lot of emotional growing pains and they too can be excruciating. As a stay-at-home-mom, I am blessed beyond belief to be living in my sweet spot, that place where my God-given passions and gifts meet my successes. But I am also grieving the loss of what I thought was my sweet spot; I am grieving my "Five Year Plan for a Successful Life". When I decided to write this blog, I decided that I would write with complete candor and transparency. Today I am feeling more heartache than laughter. I am missing "what could have been". A year ago I

It's time for an update from the recovering-control-freak. I just spent the last 30 minutes cleaning baby food off of the baby, the high chair, the floor, the walls, the table, and oh, that's right, me. Why? Because I couldn't let go. I'm having one of those "must be productive" days where I have 8 errands to run in a tiny amount of time. My day is budgeted into specific slots for each activity - lunch, driving, errands, driving, nap time, cooking, etc. Lunch was running into "getting ready" time, so I thought it best to keep spooning food into the baby's mouth, winding my way through flying baby arms and a head that kept swinging from side to side. It was like being on Star Tours. Normally I feel much more relaxed about lunch and enjoy watching Baby M try to maneuver the spoon into his ear. But time was of the essence today! Why? Because I was in Productivity Mode! Baby M, however, was in I'm-Big-Enough-To-Feed-Myself-Thank-You-V

Zach and I were given the wonderful opportunity to go away together for a few days this weekend. My wonderful in-laws watched Baby M, and Zach and I packed ourselves up in a miraculous 30 minutes and headed off to sunny San Diego. We spent the day at Sea World, staring in pity at the poor parents who had to deal with stroller parking and sit through the Elmo show. We enjoyed Cirque de la Mare and the Blue Horizons show and stared at Beluga whales and turtles. After checking into our hotel we headed for an awesome dinner at Bandu, a Persian restaurant in the Gaslamp district. My meal could have fed a family of four! The portions were huge and the food was awesome! We enjoyed chicken and ground beef kebabs with rice and grilled tomatoes. There was not a splotch of pureed squash to be found! Around nine o' clock we headed back to our car, watching the city wake up around us; clubs were filling, restaurants were in full swing. The night was young and the town was ours for the

Dear Baby Boy, I love you to the moon and back. But more importantly, I love you so much that when you spit up on me I don't gag and throw up on you. I love you so much that I don't mind not sleeping in. I love you so much that I'm willing to watch a movie in 30 minute chunks. I love you so much that I don't get mad when you pull everything out of the dishwasher. I love you so much that when you won't stop crying, I'm not thinking about my ears, but what I can do to make you feel better. I love you so much that I am willing to spend more time at Target (ok, so that's not hard, but still!) I love you so much that Belle quickly became “just a cat”. I love you so much that errands can take me all day and it's ok. I love you so much that I will sit with you for half an hour while you figure out whether or not you like chicken. I love you so much I can lose track of time just watching you sleep. I love you so much that my vocabulary sometim

A guy's weekend for Zach used to mean a wonderful relaxed weekend for me - movies with friends, ice cream for dinner, Netflix deliveries that were all chick-flick and no boom, sleeping in, shopping, and reading with no interruptions. Of course I missed him and was always ready for him to come home, but it was a nice change of pace and we both felt like we'd had a little vacation. This weekend Zach's gone fishing and I am home with Baby M. It's definitely been a different weekend! When I walked into the kitchen the other day and found both M and Belle surrounded by dozens and dozens of grocery bags, all I could do was shake my head and laugh. The work doesn't end - the dishes, the diapers, the laundry, the baths - and I've had to remember to laugh instead of cry, pick my battles, say a prayer of thanks for my wonderful husband who usually does the early morning diaper change, and be very creative. When I feel like all my energy is gone, I have to lean on t

I love summer! And with summer come some of my favorite beverages – strawberry daiquiris, mojitos, bahama mamas, and more. To me, a hot day calls for light fruity flavors. So I raided my pantry and found I had everything I needed to make a strawberry daiquiri cupcake! Using coconut flour, I created a basic vanilla cupcake. I added chopped fresh strawberries to the batter along with a few drops of red food coloring. After baking and cooling, I hollowed the centers and filled them with a strawberry-lime-rum puree. I topped them with a light fluffy meringue white frosting laced with lime juice and white rum. For a little flair I topped each cupcake with a few slices of fresh strawberries. These are definitely adult cupcakes, but the rum flavor is not overwhelming. Cupcakes are all the rage right now, so why should those of who can't eat gluten miss out?

I used to be a control freak. Some of you who know me are probably scoffing and saying, “used to?”, but seriously, I am evolving. If there was ever a case for evolution, I would make a good study. Having a baby around definitely makes you rethink your priorities. I have been noticing it in the little things, and I thought I'd share a few examples: Control Freak Me: I have to take a shower! I'm going to check the mail – people will see me! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me: I have to take a shower... sometime... Control Freak Me: You're not going to eat that right, it was on the floor! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me: At least pick the cat hair off. Control Freak Me: We must eat three healthy square meals every day! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me: I think I forgot about lunch... and possibly breakfast. Control Freak Me: Saturday is cleaning day! Top to bottom! Less-of-a-Control-Freak Me : We have guests coming over! Get the vacuum! Control Freak Me: Why w

On lazy afternoons one of my favorite things to do is bake. And in keeping with my latest trend, I took another one of my favorite desserts - chocolate chip cookies - and turned it into a cupcake. I have to admit that while I was baking, I was crafting this blog in my head. It was all about how some desserts are best left alone and should be enjoyed in their purest form. That you really shouldn't mess with the chocolate chip cookie unless you're under-baking it and adding vanilla ice cream. But I was pleasantly surprised! They were pretty awesome. For the cake I took the ingredients that make up a cookie - most importantly the brown sugar, vanilla, and chocolate chips - and made them into a light moist cake. For the frosting I made an eggless cookie dough, substituting powdered sugar for the granulated. The result was a rich, decadent chocolate chip cookie dough frosting that balanced the lightness of the cake itself. While I still think that some things are better le

Funny story for the night. Or maybe it was just funny because I was holding a glass of wine and Zach was the one holding Baby M. Either way here it is: Baby M has has a nasty diaper rash for a few days now. Doing what any good mother would do, I googled diaper rash and came up with a treatment plan (it's kind of a miracle that any of us who were born pre-internet days turned out ok). The best advice seemed to be "don't worry, use diaper ointment, and let your baby be naked for a while". Simple enough. So after completing steps one and two, Zach tentatively asks if we should do the third. I was doing the dishes, so I figured letting him crawl around naked on the linoleum floor would be fine. The words "bare-butt time" were no sooner out of Zach's mouth when Baby M let it loose all down the side of Zach's clothes. There is just something about getting peed on that sticks with you. Why is it that often when we try to do what's best for o

When Zach and I first decided to bring a baby into our home, I had this idea that I would be Martha Stewart in the nursery. I would cook my own baby food in interesting and stimulating flavors and I would knit him adorable sweaters. We would go for walks in our beautiful neighborhood park and he would coo and smile at me from his stroller (though Martha would probably use a vintage pram). I would bake and decorate adorable little cakes to celebrate his milestone which would also be beautifully commemorated in shadowboxes and scrapbooks. Well folks, the baby is here and Martha Stewart I am not. In order to make her own baby food, Martha must have 48 hour days. I find I am lucky if I provided Baby M with baby food that is more interesting than "Squash" or "Green Beans" (Thankfully Gerber makes "Fruit Smoothies" and "Apple Cinnamon"!). I tried knitting a hat once and it might fit an elf. I'm not sure where I went wrong, but clearly knit

When I was in college, I used to blow bubbles when I was stressed. Try it - take a few minutes, lean back, take a deep breath, and simply watch the pretty bubbles float away. Don't create a cheesy metaphor or learning objective; just watch them and take a few deep breaths. I hope you come away more relaxed and less stressed than you were a minute ago. Tonight I am sitting in the living room listening to my husband give Baby M a bath. They are splashing around and blowing bubbles in the water. I am finding that if I lean back, take a deep breath, and simply listen to the sweet sounds of laughter and bubbles, I can sit up a little less stressed. Too often we focus too hard on our tasks and tune out the noises, smells, and sights around us. Sometimes this is good and necessary, but sometimes we miss out on the best parts of the day. Some of my fondest childhood memories are associated with the smell of fresh bread, the feel of rolling down a green hill, and the sound of my

Dear Lord, Is this it? Poopy diapers? A laundry basket that seems as though it comes from the Harry Potter stories - I empty it and then look again and it's full? And the spit up, it just keeps coming! He's so unhappy right now, and I just don't know how to fix it! Really Lord? Did he have to stick his hand in the dirty diaper? Oh Lord, this isn't what I had planned! I have a college degree! I was going to have letters after my name! I got to wear heels and clack down the hall importantly! I had "work clothes"! Now I just have clothes... sometimes four outfits a day! And do you know how much energy it takes to get the stroller in and out of the car!? My friends don't want to hear my stories about poop and spit up, but they're the only stories I have! Lord, is this really it? Oh Lord, he's smiling! He's reaching for me. Oh Lord that little contented sigh is so sweet! Oh Lord, is this really it? Do I really get to be the

My cousin and her husband have spent the last year teaching in Thailand. I've been following their blog, and their stories are amazing - the food, the traveling, the adventures! As I read their last post, I thought to myself, "I have adventures, right? I'm fun, right?" You better believe it! Let me tell you about my latest adventure: I am an introvert. I value my alone time very much and am a better person for it. When you have a little one, the idea of alone time needs to be modified. So for me, it has meant my time in the bathroom. In our small home, Zach and I have a closed-bathroom-door policy. We (really it's me) just can't do the comfortable open-door-share-the-bathroom-shower-and-use-the-toilet thing that many people can. I have been told that I have issues. But it is the one place in the house that is not over-run with baby stuff. It's quiet. The fan makes a nice white noise. And no one judges you for going in there. But then it

I've been meaning to write about this for a while now, but somehow time just flies by! About a month ago I got the call to take Baby M to our agency for his first visit with his bio mom. My stomach dropped. He had been with us for two weeks at that point and we were completely in love with him. But the reality remained that he still had biological parents out there who were hopefully working on getting their lives together so that they could be reunited. It was a gut check reminder that Baby M was not going to be with us forever. I spent the rest of the morning feeling anxious and even a little hurt. I wanted to protect M, and these were the people who couldn't take care of him like we could. Why couldn't life just stay the way it was? I checked the mail when I got home and I found a letter from our agency. In addition to the monthly newsletter there was an insert with a letter from a mother who had been reunited with her children after completing the court requ

It's been an “extra-grace-required” sort of day. I'm tired. Baby M is tired. I don't feel well. M doesn't feel well. I'm cranky... you get the idea. It's on these days that I really have to stop and go back to basics. I have to get up and do something I love, which today means baking. I'm not the creative type, but I love taking other people's ideas and transforming them. Starbucks has a new amazing Cononut Mocha and I decided to try to make a cupcake out of it. With a little one crawling around, I won't type out the whole recipe, but I'll tell you what I did and if you would like the recipe, let me know and I would be more than happy to give it to you. I started by making a coconut flour chocolate cupcake. I then added instant coffee and shredded coconut. I then made a chocolate-coffee glaze. I cooled the cupcakes then dipped them top-down into the glaze, twirling them a little to keep the glaze from going everywhere. From there

Seeing someone play with a child is incredibly therapeutic. Seeing a grandpa play with his foster grandson with absolute adoration and abandon, with no reference to "foster", that's the kind of love that makes you tear up. Yesterday I was incredibly blessed to see love freely given. My father-in-law is an incredible example of what it means to love like this. He showered M with hugs, kisses, "I love yous", and smiles. He is giving this little boy something he desperately needs - love and a strong loving male role-model. My sister-in-law put it into words well: she said, "It's amazing how I can just love him so much, yet I didn't even know about him a month ago!" Many people have said to me that they don't know how we are able to do this; they would get too attached. In a way, they're right; attachment is hard. To be perfectly honest, I cannot picture giving my sweet baby back to his family. I become physically ill when I pict

Dear Baby Boy, I cannot believe you've been with us for over a month. I am amazed at the things I have seen: you sit up on your own for the first time, your smile that lights up the room, the laugh that can lift the world off my shoulders in an instant, your developing attachment to blondes, your introduction to solid foods, your dislike of peas, the way you babble as if it makes perfect sense, the way you've begun to crawl... Oh baby boy, I may not hear your first words, or take you to your first day of school, or see you make the football team, or walk across the stage during graduation, but I am seeing today. I am seeing you bounce around, scoot across the floor, and give face-planting wet kisses. I get to read you bedtime stories and go with you down the slide. It has been my privilege to witness these precious moments, and I will treasure them forever. Thank you for lighting up my world. I love you. Love, Mom

I hate laundry. To me, it is the most depressing chore. You spend hours sorting, pretreating, lugging, washing, drying, folding, and putting clothes away only to have the hamper full again. It's like dark magic. And with a baby, the amount of laundry has doubled. Maybe tripled. So it's little wonder that one of the new cries in the house is, “Save the onesie!” as we carry a stinky or spitting up baby to the changing table or bathroom. While it rarely works, I'm sure it's very entertaining to see one of us spring from our seats, baby held out like a bomb, running into another room, trying to somehow keep whatever is coming out from getting all over Baby M's outfit. If we fail, but only mildly, out comes an arsenal of cleaning products – water, shout, oxiclean, washcloths – to try to remove the offending material. If we fail colossally, then into the hamper it goes and a new outfit comes out, only to repeat the cycle an hour later. Sigh.

I have decided that we have been groomed over the past two years to raise a child. Ever since we brought Belle home, we have been learning valuable lessons about child-rearing and I thought I would share some things that Belle has taught us about children: - if it's important, they want to put it in their mouth - books on the shelf are meant to be pulled off - water glasses are for knocking over - they become very persistent (or in Belle's case, obnoxious) when they are hungry - they love waking you up in the early hours of the morning before the alarm goes off - they think all visitors are there to see them - grown up people food is much more interesting than their food - they do not like to be dirty and they like it when you clean up after them - if you do not clean them, your home will smell - you cannot control their behavior - they look at you like you're the crazy one - they both like to have staring contests - they both adore books, though not for the

A few months ago, Zach and I took a spontaneous trip to Vegas. I mean, we just grabbed our bags and went, arriving at about 1am. It was incredible. We had the most fun and we loved that there was no planning, no schedule, and no responsibilities. Fast forward to the present... traveling is, well... different. It's all about planning and scheduling, and responsibility. Last weekend we joined Zach's family in Cayucos for a beach vacation. There was nothing get-up-and-go about it. There were lists and text messages and grocery trips and online searches about traveling with an infant. And there was definitely a lot that we forgot. Fortunately none of it concerned the baby, but neither or us remembered to grab our own jackets or socks. We have decided that between the two of us, we have about three braincells left, so we must choose how to use them wisely. On our way to Vegas we stopped for In-N-Out. On this trip we stopped to change a diaper and feed Baby M. Not n

Dear Baby Boy, Yesterday I took you to the doctor. You were so brave. When it was time for your shots, I didn't want to set you down. I was afraid for you. I smiled and cooed and tried to take your attention away from the pain. When you grabbed my fingers as the needle went in, my heart broke. I hated to see you in pain. But I was honored to be there, to hold you, to let you know that I am here to protect you, to love you, to kiss away your hurts, and hold you when nothing else seems to help. You fussed and cried that afternoon, but in my arms you were at peace. Oh baby boy, that means the world to me. I can't always protect you from pain. Unfortunately pain is a part of life. But when it hurts, I am here. When you cry, I am here. When you laugh, my world lights up. When you sneezed sweet potatoes all over me and gave me the biggest smile, everything somehow seemed right. And when you cry, I want to do everything in my power to make it right. You all ready set

I'm addicted to Baby M's laugh. As Zach put it – it's like a drug. You do something to make him laugh and he rewards you with the deepest belly laugh and biggest grin. You then receive a rush of endorphins. So you try it again. But wait – all you get is a blank stare! So then you try something even sillier and you get the laugh you wanted. But this cycle continues until you realize that you are in the middle of Target singing “Billy Jean” in the voice of Donald Duck. So yes, you get the laugh... but it's not necessarily from the baby. I love the things that make him laugh – the other day is was the theme song to Jaws and a few hours later he thought my kissy faces were standup material. As ridiculous as I look, it's so worth it to see Baby M light up. These moments are precious and I'll trade a few moments of insanity for a baby's laugh.

I'm finding myself in quite a new predicament: way too many of my conversations are about poop. As someone who has a difficult time even saying the word “poop”, this is a bit distressing. When a baby is born, he doesn't ask you to talk to him about his poop; and yet we do. My husband doesn't come home from work asking about poop; but I tell him anyway. What is with the poop? Why is it suddenly such a fascinating topic? Why don't I talk to my baby about the book I'm reading (haha – what book?) or the latest episode of Modern Family (oh wait, it's still in my hulu queue waiting to be watched). I need grownups in my life. Not only to remind me that poop is not appropriate dinner conversation, but to remind me that I am still me. I still have my own thoughts, my own opinions, and my own questions. Thanks to technology, I can get news updates quickly and still be informed about what's going on in the world. I don't have to check out because I'

It's been 4 days since we brought Baby M home. As I sit here in the quiet morning, I hear him stir in his crib, and I am so overwhelmed at being able to be a part of his life. It's been 4 days, and everything has changed. My home literally looks like a tornado went through it. Chores are half done everywhere. The floor smells like formula. The couch smells like formula. I smell like formula. Belle somehow has become the best smelling thing in the house. I have rediscovered 2am. I see books lying around, begging to be read. My once cherry-blossom-themed bathroom now has a duck motif. It's been 4 days, and I have gained the world. I cannot even express to you the feelings that well up when I look at sweet Baby M. In God's grace he has made our first placement an absolute joy. Our boy is healthy and energetic, sleeps and eats relatively well, and smiles and laughs so deeply that your heart melts. The knowledge that God is allowing you to work side by side

Cooking and baking are two of my favorite things. They take me back to my childhood and all the wonderful things my mom would make. When I was growing up, she made the most amazing Tiramisu. Tiramisu is an amazing blend of coffee, creamy custard, cocoa, and silky cake. Gluten free lady fingers are a little difficult to find, so I thought I would try to convert them into a cupcake. There is a definite Tiramisu essence in them along with a fun twist. This time I cheated a little and used a boxed cake mix. But they still received an "OMG" and an A+ from the tasting crew. Coffee Cupcakes: 1 box Betty Crocker Gluten Free Yellow Cake Mix ½ cup butter, softened 2/3 cup water 3 eggs 2 tsp. Vanilla 1 tbsp. Instant coffee Following the directions on the box, mix all ingredients. Bake at 325 for 18-23 minutes. Cool completely. Tiramisu Filling: 8 oz. Mascarpone 3 egg yolks ¼ cup sugar Beat egg yolks with sugar until foamy. Fold in mascarpone. Spoon mixture

I experienced the most amazing blessing today – everyone at the pain management center celebrated with me as I told them about our new arrival coming later this week (we are bringing home our first foster baby on Thursday!). This is a day we've been waiting for – and I say we, because it truly is "we". Zach and I, along with my physical therapist, occupational therapist, psychologist, biofeedback specialist, and others have been getting me ready to care for this baby. Without the encouragement, advice, strategies, and support of these people, this adventure would be much more daunting. While many of the exercises seemed silly (practicing making the bed, unloading the dishwasher... vacuuming), they have all been crucial steps in me learning the appropriate body mechanics and pacing so that I can do things without increasing my pain. Today there was a spirit of celebration in the center; I could sense their excitement for me. They were a huge part of the preparation –

At 11:30 this morning, approximately 45 minutes after I posted my previous note, I received a call from our Foster Family Specialist at Olive Crest - we're certified! I almost made her repeat it while I pinched myself to make sure I hadn't dozed off in the California heat. But it's true - the fingerprints are cleared, the paperwork has been signed, and we now anxiously await what God has for us next. Thank you for being on this journey with us! I'm sure we will have many stories - funny and heartbreaking - to tell in the future. We wouldn't have it any other way! Isn't it amazing how God works!? He is so good.

I wish with all my heart that I were sitting here writing to you with a baby in my arms. About a week ago, we asked you to pray – pray that our fingerprints would clear, pray for patience, pray for these precious little ones. And yet I sit here without news, without fingerprint clearance, and without ears perked for a phone call asking us to come pick up a child. Does that mean that God hasn't heard or answered our prayers? Absolutely not. I have come to have a deep sense of peace that his ways are not my ways, and that his timing is perfect, not mine. I have realized that what hurts me hurts him infinitely more, and he weeps for these broken children. He has not forgotten them. He is tending to them in ways I cannot imagine, and when the time is right, he will let me join him in this work. Our prayers have intensified for these children. And we are continuing to learn the voice of our good shepherd. Our pastor has been preaching through a series titled “You Were Mad

We serve a big God. I believe in his perfect timing. But I also believe that he calls us to prayer. And today I am asking you to pray. There are currently an estimated 463,000 children in foster care in the United States (www.childwelfare.gov/pubs/factsheets/foster.cfm). Every 10 seconds a child abuse report is filed in the United States. Every day in America, five children die as a result of child abuse. Over 3.5 million cases of child abuse are reported in the United States each year (http://www.olivecrest.org/site/PageServer?pagename=gen_abt_history_mission_values). It kills me that there are children out there who are hungry, dirty, abused, and neglected, and I am tied up in an inefficient system waiting for a single set of fingerprints to clear. Thanks to the wonderful support of family and friends, our home is ready for a child. I know that we will be certified at the right time, the time when God deems us physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally ready to serv