Happy day

Ten years ago I shared my 20th birthday with 101,000 of my closest friends at Neyland Stadium, bedecked in orange and singing Rocky Top. That pretty much sums up where I was. Floating in a sea of faces, not quite sure who I was, passionate but unconnected.

Today I welcome 30 with my beautiful family. Friday morning traditional pancake breakfast, "assisting" my little party planners as they "make" my birthday cake, build a sand castle at Buckroe, quiet evening with Tim, and a cookout with friends later in the weekend. Infinitely connected to four people, journeying with so many more.

In a mere ten years.

Well, not so mere...

20 - sophomore year, working as an RA, tons of peeps, no solid friends, no church home

21 - find a church home, find a best friend for college and a best friend for life

22 - tragedy shows how real our church family is

23 - get married! start grad school, start ministry with new church family

24 - buy first house, find new married friends

25 - leave grad school, identity crisis over who I am without "future DVM" behind my name

26 - first baby arrives! move to Virginia and fall in love with a new church family

27 - second baby arrives!

28 - develop our family identity

29 - third baby arrives!

Thirty promises two new nieces, a celebration of a stronger, happier relationships with my original family, too.

How could I not look forward to 30??

The Lord has done so much for me the last ten years. He has taught me about who he is and who I am in Christ. He's given me purpose, my personal ministry from him. I don't only mean my kids, although they are a ministry. I mean that he has taken so many pieces of me that I didn't know what to with at 20 and showed me that he made me "this way" to use me "this way." I don't need to become someone else.

I am a happy girl on this happy day!

2 months tomorrow

Little Man is two months old tomorrow. All that stuff about time flying, it's true here too.

He's still my fabulous baby, with the goofiest grin, especially for Afton. Those two share some special connection. She starts singing her little made up ditties, and he kicks and coo's and grins like a fool.

Got my first kiss today, the nearly violent open-mouthed baby kind, not the mistook your face for a boob kind.

Also today, I missed a photo op when he saw his hand for the first time. Gwennan face planted while I was looking for my camera. I'll just have to remember the what new marvel might this be look.

But I didn't miss every picture...

Invited to interrupt

Glance at the clock. 9 o'clock. Breakfast dishes took an hour. A pan and a handful of plates and mugs.

Maybe it's settling hormones, more likely, it's frustration that brings tears to my eyes. 

Not about the dishes.

About the time. About the infant stirring. About the lost moment to workout. About the interruptions. 

The interruptions are the real weight.

My fists ball when I hear the bells clang against the back door. My face tenses anticipating another, mmmmmmoooommmmmm-aaaaaa. Crises. Kisses. Tattles. I need a new pencil. This one's not working. Sister was about to hit me. I found a mushroom in the yard. Come get it. I'm done outside. I need to big poop. waa-waa-WWWAAAAA!

So an hour slipped past before the breakfast dishes were nestled in the sink to dry.

This toddler season is our life. Hard. Good. Beat your head against a wall. Smile until your cheeks hurt. Parenting.

The relentless nature wears on me. DH comes home from a 12 hour work day and asks, what's wrong? Are you just tired? And I think, no. I've just had one year of my life sucked away. I feel like Wesley strapped to the machine in the pit of despair.

No. It's not that bad.

But it is relentless. Ceaseless petitioning.

My humanness, and probably selfishness, begs to finish a task, a thought, start to finish without someone talking to me.

Let the little children come to me. Don't worry that they'll interrupt or annoy me, that they will babble nonsensically. I want to hear and see them.

What I find exhausting, God finds delightful.

He invites us to converse. Pray without ceasing. Not a command, but an invitation. Please, come to me with every little thing. I want to hear it all.

Not like a frustrated mother in front of the sink pulling off her gloves to deal with yet another squabble.

A loving father waiting to hear every detail, never cutting off or glancing at his phone.

I don't treat prayer that way. More like a military exchange. Here are the facts. Lets get down to business. You to yours. Me to mine. Check back in with the results. Amen.

My underlying assumption is that he is too busy to converse. He would rather recieve bullet points during a set meeting time so he can resume his more pressing duties.

After all, he is The Lord God, creator of heaven and earth.

But I'm not told to prayer to 'God Most High, King of Kings.' I'm taught to prayer, 'our father.'

Father who loves me because I am his child. He is invested in me, in my every moment.

Father who has no need to multitask in order to include me. His attention is as infinite as himself. He is fully present when I speak. I don't understand how that works; I simply rejoice that it works.

Knowing who is waiting to hear from me, I can joyfully petition all my cares. Please heal the dog. I need my happy Abby back. Please keep Tim safe as he bikes home. Thank you for a moment of happy imaginative play. 

My grandmother prayed like this. Especially in her last years. Every time she got out of bed, she prayed that The Lord would give her strength to walk to the couch. My sister used to grin and say, I can always carry you there. But Grandmother never stopped asking or thanking. She understood the invitation.

My Lovely child, Pray whenever you want, as much as you want, about whatever you want. I am always listening. I am never too busy. I am never interrupted. I've never heard it all before. Please, pray without ceasing.

Casting our cares because he cares for you.

More than any flawed momma juggling duties and plaintives.

We pray because he cares.

Our breakfast obsession {dutch babies}

Hearing your children cheer to eat 'babies' is a little creepy, especially early in the morning. But it happens almost every day at present. Because the girls discovered the dutch baby.

A dutch baby is essentially your eggs and toast, but in a custardy pie with a flaky top. Doesn't that sound worthy of a two year old's obsession?

With all the convenience breakfast foods available, it can be hard to muster the energy to make a hot breakfast. I get it. I don't like cleaning dishes any more than the next momma who'd rather move on to her yoga routine than pick up a soapy sponge. That might be why I'm so obliging with this meal. It is no messier than scrambled eggs and actually requires less of my attention while it cooks. I stand in a stupor watching espresso drip down while this sits in the oven. Not so when I scramble eggs. Either the eggs come out a little brown and firm while I make coffee, or I don't get coffee. You can guess how I usually serve eggs. {If you come over for breakfast, don't worry. I hand over the reins to Tim for large group scrambled eggs. His are always perfect thanks to the hawk-like vigilance he learned from his dad. I just worry over the coffee.}

Without further procrastination:

Dutch Babies {GF}

Ingredients
1 c milk
4 eggs
1 c flour {can use whole grain like buckwheat, oat, sorghum}
Pinch of salt
Dash of nutmeg
1/2 t lemon zest*

1-2 T butter for pan

Directions
Preheat oven to 475. Place an oven safe 9-10" skillet in the oven as it preheats.

While oven preheats, combine milk and eggs in blender. Blend until eggs are incorporated {about 30 seconds}. Add remaining ingredients and mix until smooth {about 1 minutes}. Allow to sit while oven preheats to soften whole grain flour.

When oven is preheated, remove skillet {Use a potholder!} and melt butter in pan, rotating to cover the bottom and sides of skillet. Pulse batter once more to mix in any settled flour, then pour in skillet. Place skillet in middle of oven. Bake for 14-16 minutes.

Makes enough for our family of 4.

Add some fresh fruit {we suggest blueberries}, and you've got a complete breakfast. Enjoy!

For the gluten free peeps: Dutch babies are our replacement for french toast. The flavor is very similar without using a loaf of gf bread on breakfast.

*DH found pure lemon oil, not an essential oil, at a cake decorating shop ~ perfect easy substitute for lemon zest. One of my favorite pantry staples.

Adapted from this recipe