Apples to Apple Butter
In case there has ever been any confusion, let me make this clear. My husband is not a country boy. This Thanksgiving was a complete culture shock for him. When he walked out of our bedroom dressed in his church clothes, I chuckled and sent him back to go for something far more casual. The fact that people missed the big meal because they were huntin’ (no G – just huntin’) was a whole new concept for him to grasp. Little did he know a full-blown country bumpkin adventure had just begun.
Every year for Thanksgiving, my Dad’s family gets together to make apple butter. The family meets up out in the middle of way past no where at a small bible camp that they are involved in. Folks (yes, folks) come from Ohio, next door, Tennessee and many places in between for this barn raising type event. Actually, I think it would take less people to raise a barn.
After everyone filled their tummies with turkey, taters (yes, taters), stuffing balls, and what not, the apple butter making commenced.
It all started with an apple.
The apples were cored and peeled.
The bits of peel that were missed by the peeler were removed by hand.
The apples were quartered and checked for hard spots.
Once quartered, the apples were washed.
By the time we were done peeling, coring, quartering and washing, we had three full trashcans of apples.
As the evening progressed, Steve was beginning to relax and participate in the apple butter making. He was almost inoculated to the Southern accents, flannel shirts and camouflage hats. However, Cowboy Adam strolled in wearing a cowboy hat, and we were back at square one.
Day two of apple butter began at 4am. City Slicker Steve nor I were up at 4am. We were not up at 7am either, or 8am. Anyhow, at 4am, a group of folks (yes, folks) got up to build fires and cook the apples.
The apples cooked in large kettles for what felt like an eternity.
While the apples were cooking, lids were prepared.
Jars were lined up.
Lots and Lots of Jars.
Children Played.
The apples cooked.
Finally, at 2:30pm the apples were ready for sugar.
Lots and lots of sugar.
And more sugar.
Once the sugar was added, the apples had to cook for another hour.
It was at this point in the day that I decided that making apple butter is much like waiting on a baby to be born. When you first arrive at the hospital, there is a lot going on and everyone is excited (building the fire). Then, you settle into a long wait (the cooking). You wait for hours and hours and hours (more cooking). Then, finally, it is time to push (adding the sugar), but the baby doesn’t come for another hour (more cooking).
Children played.
FINALLY! It was time. The spices were added just before the apples were taken off the fire (the baby arrives).
This was when all of the hustle and bustle started (everyone wants to hold the baby, and count all the fingers and toes).
The apple butter was poured into a giant funnel type contraption. No idea what it was called.
The jars were filled one by one.
Lids were tightly screwed on, and the jars were wiped down (cleaning the goo off the baby).
The bottom of the kettle was scraped clean. Not an ounce of the harvest was wasted.
The jars of apple butter were lined up on a table to cool off.
Lots and lots of apple butter. 105ish pints and 150ish quarts.
Just when Steve thought he was free to leave the country (the hospital) and return to the safety of his home, I had to break the news to him. We couldn’t leave with our apple butter (baby) until all of the lids had sealed with a pop (the discharge papers were signed).
To think it all started just over 24 hours ago with an apple (a fetus).
Gratitude – 11.25.09
Today, I am grateful for Thanksgiving and the way it brings us all together. Recently, I’ve grown to appreciate the holiday in ways that I didn’t in years past. With how fast the world is spinning these days, I have a feeling many others feel the same way.
We’re all so busy trying to make it in life, that we don’t take the time to get together and enjoy the company of others. Our lives are consumed by work, bills, taxes, insurance, house work, car maintenance, meetings and so on. All of this leaves little time for much of anything else. Thanksgiving gives us the opportunity to enjoy family, friends, food and fun. We come together to eat, laugh, argue, cry, play, sleep and enjoy life.
On this Thanksgiving, I am thankful for Thanksgiving and the way it reminds us to enjoy the company of others.
Daddy’s Song
Steve was never around babies much prior to Moanna’s birth. If he had changed a diaper, it had only been once or twice, and there was no poop involved. I feel fairly confident in saying that he was never responsible for soothing a fussy baby. Knowing this about Steve, I was prepared to teach him the skills needed to keep the child alive.
On the day Moanna was born, a father was born. I barley got to hold my brand new baby because Steve was too busy hogging her. He swaddled her, changed her diapers, dressed her and comforted her.The second Moanna started to fuss, Steve took her. I was not prepared for this. If it weren’t for nursing, I probably never would have gotten a turn with the baby.
Among Steve’s many new parenting talents, he made up his own songs. Steve came up with this song before we left the hospital, and Moanna still asks him to sing it to her before bed.
Daddy dreams big. That’s why we love him.
Symphony of Ringtones
My husband found this video online and emailed it to me a few weeks ago. At first, I was not moved by it the way Steve was. Now that I have watched it a few times, I’m completely blown away by how much work that went into this project.
You have to watch this video twice. The second time, close your eyes and just listen to it. When I played it with my eyes closed, that is when I could really hear the music. It went from a lot of noisy cellphones to art.
Can you imagine the patience it took to pull that off?
The Miscarriage – Part 5: The Post Op
If you are new to our journey, you may want to start with the posts below to understand where all of this is coming from…
The Miscarriage – Part 1: The Loss
The Miscarriage – Part 2: Waiting to Move On
The Miscarriage – Part 3: From the ER
The Miscarriage – Part 4: To The OR
It’s been two and half months since my miscarriage initially began. I was not at all prepared for what was to come in the following weeks. I had no idea. I was not expecting that I would be away from work for so long. The idea of getting a shot of chemo never entered my mind. Why would it? I did not ever imagine that I would go into emergency surgery.
Recovery has been a long process. I was not prepared to be down for as long as I was after surgery. I thought that after a few weeks, I would be able to return to the life that I knew. There were times that I got very down and frustrated with the process because I was tired of feeling useless and lifeless. I had to constantly remind myself that I had several things stacked against me that were drawing out my recovery. I was pregnant, I had a miscarriage, I had a shot of chemo, I had emergency surgery, I was exposed to H1N1, I was treated for H1N1 (just to be safe), I was on a lot of medication, my hormones were getting batted around, and my Fibromyalgia was surfacing big time. Of course it was going to take longer than expected to recover.
During my last post op appointment I had a final ultra sound and exam. Overall, things went well. I have had continued tenderness in my right side. It is probably my body adjusting to some scar tissue that has formed. There is a slight chance that it is because my right ovary is misplaced. If I have the tenderness becomes severe or causes other complications, then we may have to look at doing some surgery to put the ovary back where it belongs. My doctor feels that the ovary will return to its normal position on it’s on, or get comfortable in it’s new location. Other than that, the doctor was pleased with my progress and felt comfortable releasing me to normal activity minus heavy lifting.
Finally, on November 10, I returned to work. I was happier to return to work than I had anticipated. I was happy to see my coworkers and my clients. I was happy to talk about things other than my struggles. It was nice to get up and get dressed, and know that I was going to accomplish things. I’m not sure that I was fully ready to return to work, but I knew that I needed to press forward.
I still have to take it easy. At about 2:00PM everyday my body screams for a nap, and I have to take a break. I also lose my momentum after about an hour of activity, and have to sit down for a water break and breather.
This experience has opened my eyes to many things and given me ample time to contemplate life. The most important thing that I have realized is that I desperately need to work on balancing my life. I have always been famous for pushing myself to the point of crashing, and this experience has been a huge wake up call. A really big crash. I know that I had no control over what happened, but I do feel that if my life were more in balance it would not have taken this long to recover. I have made a commitment to myself and to my family to work on taking better care of myself. It is vital that I slow down and embrace the process instead of rushing through life trying to do everything.
Steve and I both desperately want to grow our family. We have had many conversations about when to start trying again. Right now, we are looking at trying again in February. We want to make sure that my body is ready to carry a healthy baby. There are also some other administrative and logistical things that we want to take care of before we add to the wonderful madness that is life.
Steve is confident that even though our fertility rate has dropped by 30% (doctor’s calculations) that we will have no trouble conceiving. It took us no time to get pregnant this time. Plus, Moanna was conceived on birth control. Steve thinks that we are super fertile and that a 30% decrease is nothing. To him a 30% decrease puts us closer to a “normal” fertility rate.
I admit that I am a little nervous about being able to get pregnant. What if my right side was the baby factory and the left ovary is a dud? What if I have another miscarraige? What if something goes wrong and I lose the other tube or ovary? Do you have any idea how expensive IVF is? What if I’m never able to carry another child? These are the thoughts that run through my head. Then Steve assures me that we’ll be able to have many more healthy babies. Before I know it, I’ll be enjoying many mornings of gagging and nights of getting kicked in the bladder. Until then, I will take plenty of vitamins and bask in the glory of uninterrupted sleep.
The worst case scenario happened in the best way possible. I can not tell you how many times that thought has come to mind throughout this experience. At every step along the way, the terrible thing that only happens to one person out of a very large x number has happened. I am the one in the x. I am the statistic. However, each time things turned for the worse, it went better than anyone could have imagined. Throughout this process I’ve had great doctors and care. From the very beginning we have had constant support from friends and family. In what could be considered a very dark time in our lives, we found happiness, joy and purpose. For all of this, I am grateful beyond words. I am grateful for the experience, the challenge, the growth.
When Do Kids Outgrow the Poop and Play Phase?
I feel like we’ve had this conversation before…
We have had this conversation before!
You know, the one about the poop situation. It was back in the summer. You don’t remember it? I was wearing my PJ’s and you were wearing that cute little outfit. By the way, you look great today. You know what, I bet you blocked the conversation out of your memory. Let’s be honest here, no one wants to imagine that their child would ever consider doing something so horrific.
Before nap time, Moanna goes potty and puts on a Pull-Up. All necessary precautions are taken to avoid any and all incidences. However, all of the planning and preparing in the world does not stop a two and a half year old from playing with her poop. She is on a mission, and it is going to happen.
Why? Who knows? Is she punishing me for making her nap when she’d rather not? Seriously, what goes on in a child’s mind when they decide to play with poop? Don’t they remember how miserable it is when the fun is over?
ARGHHHH!
About a half an hour after laying her down, Moanna was still awake talking to herself. I thought maybe laying her back down and covering her up again would remind her that it was nap time. I opened the door, and saw my sweet little girl holding a giant ball of green poop. Not just green poop, green poop that had begun to crust over because she had been playing with it for so long.
Good bye quiet afternoon. Good bye sanity.
Instant surge in blood pressure. There are few things that make me lose my calm mommy voice, but poop is one of them. Poop belongs in the potty and that is it.
“Moanna! This is not how big girls behave. You poop in the potty. Now instead of playing outside this afternoon, we are going to spend the afternoon scrubbing you and your bed. DON’T TOUCH ME! DO NOT TOUCH ME!”
When we enter a poop situation, I know that I am anything but reasonable or rational with Moanna. Today was no exception. I repeated how upset I was with her about fifty times. By the end of it, she probably thought that I had lost all of my marbles- all of them. The entire time I was scrubbing her down, I was lecturing her. The entire time I was scrubbing her crib, I was lecturing her. The entire time I was dressing her, I was lecturing her. This is not the kind of Mommy I like to be, but I couldn’t stop myself.
Just when Moanna thought I was done with my ranting, I called Daddy. I wanted Moanna to know that Daddy did not care for poop situations either. It was the conversation with Daddy that made me realize that my lectures and irrational ranting was a waste of time.
Daddy, “Moanna, what did you do?”
Mo, “I pooped in my bed?”
Daddy, “Why?
Mo, “Why cause, that’s what babies do?”
Daddy, “Are you a baby?”
Mo, “No. I’m a big girl.”
Daddy, “If you’re a big girl, then why did you poop in your bed?”
Mo. “Why cause, I’m Moanna.”
That was it. That was when I knew that no matter how much I lectured or threatened, it wouldn’t matter. I could turn green and grow an extra head, and Moanna would not be phased. If she felt the need to poop in her bed and play with it, she would. This is one battle that I can’t win. I just have to wait for her to outgrow the poop and play phase. I just hope it ends soon. My sanity can’t afford to lose too many more afternoons to poop.
I’m Bald…
Haha… Suckers! I got ya!
I do feel kinda naked though. This is the shortest my hair has been since middle school.
After searching for pictures online for months, and seeking advice from others, I got the hair chopped off last Thursday. When I got to The Salon of Lexington (that is what it is called), I sat down in the chair and said to my stylist of a decade or more, “My hair needs help! You know me. You know my hair. You know my face. You know what you’re doing. What are we going to do?”
She asked me a few questions. I told her I wanted something short, but not too short. I am terrified of looking like a little boy. I told her what was out of the question. My only absolute, over-my-dead-body, was NO BANGS. I can’t do bangs. Won’t do bangs. Other than that, I she had creative freedom.
This is where we ended. It is easy to work with. It takes five minutes to blow dry and style (style is a strong word). I even use mousse - sometimes.
(Notice the eyebrows got some much needed attention as well.)
Maybe next time I will be more daring, and go shorter or more edgy. Maybe my fear of looking like a boy will fade. For now, this is the change I needed. I now have a reason to look in the mirror other than to pop a zit.
PS. If you are just joining us, check out the before picture
Maturity Seeps Through Our Pores
Last night, Moanna was bouncing on top of a balloon on our couch. Steve takes the balloon, and pops it. Right in front of Moanna.
Moanna, “What did you do to the balloon?” eyes wide and confused.
Steve, “I popped it.”
Moanna, “Why?” eyes still wide and confused.
Me, “To traumatize you.”
Steve, “Um well, uh. It’s not safe to bounce on balloons. Um, if it popped while you were bouncing on it, it would hurt really bad.Ummm”
Me, “I bet you wish you would have thought this through a little better.”
Moanna, “Yea buddy. You should have thought about it.”
Sometimes Steve does things before thinking them through. Sometimes I can’t keep the sitcom that is constantly running through my head to myself.
Later on that evening…
Steve and I were making the bed, and talking about… I have no idea what we were talking about… when…
Me, “Man, you are so high maintenance.’
Steve, “Yea? Well, you’re too low maintenance.”
Me, “Most guys would appreciate a girl who is low maintenance. Would you prefer if I wore makeup everyday?”
Steve, “Yes.”
Me, “What? Are you trying to make me cry?”
Steve, “…NOT that you need to wear makeup. Obviously you don’t, or I wouldn’t have married you.”
Me, “Not helping.”
Steve, “… I just think that you would feel better about your day if you took the time to do your hair or put on makeup everrday.”
Me, “Well maybe if I had the time, I could do that now and then. But, SOMEBODY takes for-ev-er to do his hair in the morning. AND, he takes up the en-ti-re bathroom to do it.”
Sometimes Steve speaks before he thinks. Sometimes, I’m rubber and you’re glue.
Reflections – October 2009
October came and went, and I feel like I missed most of it. I’m having a hard time remembering what happened during the first three weeks. It’s kind of like trying to remember what you dreamed about; you know you had a crazy dream and you remember a few scenes, but mostly it’s foggy. That is what most of October has been like for me. Things did pick up at the end. I have many happy memories from the last week of October to make up for all of the stuff that I can’t remember from the beginning.
After realizing that I was still struggling to recover from surgery, and seeing the impact that it had on Moanna, Steve and I decided that it would be best if Mo went to Maryland to visit with Steve’s parents for awhile. We knew that it was best for Moanna, myself and everyone else involved. Typically, I’m more than happy to have Moanna spend a few weeks here and there in Maryland, and I’m grateful we had that option for her this time. However, it was harder to see her go this time because she was going because I was unable to care for her.
She had a great time. She got her ears pierced, rode horses, went to a pumpkin patch, went camping TWICE and all kinds of other fun stuff. And, while she was out living it up with Grandma Annette and Grandpa Bob, I rested and recovered. I didn’t do much else in the time that she was gone outside of sleeping, eating, and lounging.
Steve had a very eventful October. He was laid off from his job. Instead of panicking, we looked for the blessings in this challenge. Steve was able to spend time helping me as I recovered, and working on projects in the house. He has been able to seriously consider finishing school; something that would have never been possible based on his old work schedule. Steve has returned to sales, and has been able to generate more income and job satisfaction than he was as a district manager.
In addition to the job change, Steve managed to find himself in two car accidents within just over 48 hours of each other. The first one, not his fault. He was rear ended in traffic. The second one, completely his fault. He ran into a tree. How? He has no idea. NO IDEA. Other than some brusing and stiffness, he was thankfully unharmed. We now have a 2001 (I think) Passat to replace the truck.
The weekend before Halloween, my Grandpa Al and Grandma Mary came to visit from Ohio. We hadn’t seen them since our wedding in May. Their time here was very laid back. Most of the time was spent at my parent’s house eating a lot of home cooked food, watching movies and spending time catching up. Up until their last morning here, Moanna was still in Maryland, and Steve was out of town on business. Before they headed back North, Grandpa Al and Grandma Mary came to our house to visit with Moanna and Steve and have breakfast.
After Moanna came home from Maryland, I started to feel much better. I had a reason to get out of bed, a reason to cook, a reason to smile and I reason to move on from surgery. For the first time in a month and a half, I was able to pick her up and hold her. She, of course, had no time to snuggle because her week was booked full with Halloween activities.
The Halloween celebrations started on Wednesday. Our church held a Chili Cook-Off and Trunk-or-Treat. We ate chili, played games and went Trunk-or-Treating. When we were done Trunk-or-Treating, we stuck Moanna in the trunk to hand out candy.
On Thursday, Moanna went to a Halloween party with some of her playmates. They went Trick-or-Treating and decorated pumpkins. She came home with all kinds of stories about how much fun she had with her friends.
Friday was filled with Fall Fun. With less than an hour’s notice, Moanna and I got ready to go to lunch with my Mom and Grandma Pam on the Blue Ridge Parkway. We ended up spending most of the day on the mountain. We looked for leaves, went for a walk and took a lot of pictures. A LOT OF PICTURES. We had to return from our adventure, so that Moanna could, yet again, go Trick-or-Treating. This time it was Trick-or-Treating at all of the local businesses. It’s great for little kids because it starts at 4:00PM; it’s still light outside and early enough that it doesn’t mess with dinner and bedtime routines (not that we have either of those, but it’s good for families that managed to stay on schedule). When we returned home, we made collages out of the leaves we collected, and hung them on the front door. Our last activity of the night was carving a small pumpkin. Moanna was completely grossed out by it at first, but she eventually got the pumpkin cleaned out so that Steve could carve it.
By the time Halloween finally arrived, I was pooped and Moanna had enough candy to get her through Halloween next year. Instead of going out Trick-or-Treating again, we stayed home. We dressed Moanna up in her costume for the fourth day in a row, and put her in charge of handing out candy. I strongly encourage this for oh-so-many reasons. Your little one learns that it is fun to give away candy, your house doesn’t get completely over taken by candy, and you don’t get stuck carrying the kid home when they tucker out on you ten blocks from home.
I wish that the first three weeks of October were filled with as many happy memories as the last week, but I’ll take what I can get. I’m grateful that I had the energy and strength to enjoy Halloween with my family. I was really worried that the end of the month would come, and I would still be struggling to get up in the mornings. It’s still a challenge to get through day sometimes, but I’m making progress.
We are looking forward to November, and spending more time with family and friends as the Holidays approach. We have set new goals for our family, big ones and little ones. We are continuing to search for ways to improve our lives. Most importantly, we are taking it day-by-day, and finding the blessings that come with each new challenge.
Gratitude 11.06.09
Today, I am grateful for nap time. I am grateful for Moanna’s naps, as well as, my naps. Nap time is essential for our home to run smoothly. I really wish that I lived in a country where everyone is expected to nap and take a break in the afternoon. I wonder how much it would take to move the U.S. to a country that naps?
When Moanna is having a rough morning, I look forward to her nap time more than usual. You know the feeling, when it seems like some outside force has taken over your sweet child. I love when Mo lays down for a nap because I know that she is going to wake up in a much better mood than what she was in before nap time.
I also like Moanna’s nap time because it means that I can get things done without being inturpted every five minutes with “Mommmmmyyyyyyy.” I can do chores, write, read, watch TV, work on projects. When Mo naps, I can nap. Because I have Fibromyalgia, napping is sometimes an essential part of my day. There are days that if I don’t nap, I will have a very challenging time getting through the second half of my day, and may not be able to accomplish anything of value. I also genuinely enjoy napping. I love snuggling into the couch with a blanket as I fall asleep watching TV.
Today, Moanna and I both were in desperate need of a nap. Mo was getting herself into trouble every five minutes. She was not listening to anything we said. When she was corrected, she would melt into a ball of tears. I woke up feeling like I hadn’t slept, my body was in aching all over, and I was kind of nauseous. I felt crappy, and, as a result, was a useless and unpleasant person to be around. So there we were, naughty and cranky. Mo and I took our naps, and we both woke up as much better people. Moanna was happy and fun to play with. I was able to cook a nice dinner, enjoy spending time with Moanna, and get a few chores done.
I am so thankful that a few hours of sleep in the afternoon can make such a big difference. It restores moods, energy, productivity, health. I am grateful for nap time and how it can salvage a rough day.
