Stealing a moment

Is it bad to steal a moment during Elizabeth's naptime in order to blog, check e-mail, and even *gasp* play a Facebook game?  I admit, I feel a little guilt.  I look at the clean dishes in the dish rack and think, "You should put those away."  I look at the stacks of dirty ones in the sink from dinner the night before (eaten very late, by the way) and think, "You should wash those and put them away."  I look at the clutter of things on my dining room table, the pile of linens yet to find a home, the litter of debris from having a nearly-one-year old and think, "Why are you sitting here on the computer when you should be working!"

I know it's good for all mommies to take a break and relax, even to think. I don't deny the wisdom.  But sometimes I feel I should deny myself the luxury, when my husband works so many hours a week and has to get up at 4:30 in the morning in order to enjoy his.  If he works so hard, so constantly all day, then shouldn't I?  It's a thought on my mind.

Another thought on my mind, wholly unrelated, is Halloween.  I've said it before, and I'll likely say it every year, but I don't like Halloween.  I could get behind the costume parties and the trick-or-treat and the innocent fun our children can enjoy at this time, but the rest of it has got to go.  Or, I wish it would.  I don't like the horror.  I don't like the "fun" of scaring other people, of scaring ourselves, of the evil and gore that pervades our movies and television choices, even our commercials.  Case in point: I love the Food Network. They have a show called Food Network Challenge, where chefs come to compete for a prize, usually pastry chefs come and decorate massive cakes along a theme.  The episode they are currently playing and replaying and replaying is Horror Cakes.  Let me tell you, there is nothing admirable or appetizing about these cakes.  Horror is a pretty good term.  They were gross.

This is why this time of year I start really hankering for Christmas.  Have you ever experienced anything encouraging or uplifting at Halloween?  I know there's an exception to every rule, so I'm sure some nay-sayer can in fact say, "Why, yes, I have."  But as a rule, is Halloween uplifting?  Is it encouraging?  Does it really encourage you to look out for others?  But at Christmas time, we are encouraged to do that.  Even those who don't acknowledge that the purpose of Christmas is Christ and that the whole spirit of the season comes from our Lord, you will hear them say, "But it's Christmas," as the reason to help someone else or say something nice or do something good.  It's a feeling that we as believers need to extend year round.  And I admit, if everyone acknowledged the real "reason for the season" that whole time would be so much brighter.

Baby Girl is now awake and attempting to eat something off the floor.  My stolen moment is over.  I guess I can reconcile myself to spending this first morning nap like this because it's so short.  Would I have gotten many dishes done anyway?  Ah, but they would have been done.

Chicken stock is good for the soul

And the smell of it is, too.

I'm taking what is supposed to be a very brief break from kitchen duty to write this missive on the qualities of homemade chicken stock.  Okay, so I really can't speak much from experience.  I know my mom made it from time to time, but I don't remember much about it.  And today is my first attempt.  But let me say: the smell is heavenly.  I'm using a recipe I found online that is a little more than basic (and yet is not remotely difficult) and if it delivers everything the aroma wafting out of my pot is promising... well, then I'm sold.

I've been a little down about being stuck in my kitchen again (though it is beginning to show signs of organizing) cleaning dishes, putting away, etc.  After thawing this whole chicken for the past several days, I decided to throw it in the pot and simmer while I work.  A few unpeeled, cut-up vegetables (oh, things like celery, garlic, carrot, onion and parsnip) as well as some fresh parsley, dill, and whole peppercorns throw in, and suddenly my kitchen is smells quite inviting.  Currently, it is the tangy, grassy dill, the herbaceous parsley, and the spicy peppercorns that are tickling my nose.  It's like the sudden joy when you unexpectedly see a good friend in a strange place.  That's the gladness that I'm feeling smelling my stock.

I don't look forward to the task of deboning and cutting up my cooked chicken, but I do look forward to offering my husband chicken and noodles, maybe with some mashed potatoes, tonight for dinner.  I look forward to what I hope will be a happy and intrigued look on his face when he comes home this evening to the smell of homemade chicken stock.  Well, let's hope.

(Now, back to the daily dish grind.)

Carry on

It's the end of the week.  I had optimistically stupidly hoped that we would be done unpacking and settling by this point.  I know.  Say it with me, "Oh, you poor, darling fool."  Yes.  Yes, I am.

At the moment the kitchen has me completely defeated.  I have have a cabinet and  half let of space in it, and no idea what I'm going to do, as I have about three, perhaps four, cabinets worth of stuff left.  Of course, it's just a matter of packing up things we don't use as often.  The question is placement.  Because that will depend on what stays and goes.  Only certain things will fit in certain places, and the biggest question is what to do with my spices.  Did you know that you should definitely not store your spices and things above the stove as the heat from your cooking will destroy their quality?  Did you also know that the easiest access for me for my spices is right above my stove, as to the right is the fridge and to the left is a cabinet with one large door that opens towards the other side?  Yes, not convenient for cooking.  So what to do?  I have no idea, and so my kitchen and dining room are a wretched mess.

I'm no child psychologist but so far I have identified three stages of adjustment in Eliza for this move.  Fist, fascination.  She slept late our first morning here (wonderful!).  She crawled from room to room, jabbered, and played with anything within reach.  Then, confusion.  She began to crawl from room to room and seemed to be looking for something not quite there.  (It didn't help that the window guys were here and kept talking to hr and she felt extremely shy).  Now, we have moved on to hyper-clingyness.  Yes, folks, she is a permanent fixture on my hip when other people are around.  She will only let me hold her, if she can help it.  She isn't sleeping well.  Her first decent nap of the week took place on my lap this afternoon.  I hope the next phase is adjustment and things can begin to return to normal as far as she is concerned.

Due to this recent phase of clinginess (which has been the last three days), I've gotten little in the kitchen done.  And little elsewhere done, because it is the kitchen that has me stumped/stressed/crying three days in a row.  I feel like I can't move on until it's done.  I may need to move past that feeling and just see to other things.  But my kitchen certainly won't be functional until everything is put away.  There just isn't space for a mess in there.

So, plan of attack.  1) DON"T let the kitchen get me down.  Even if I only put a few things away at a time, it will get done! 2) Carry on with life, even though Eliza and the kitchen can make it difficult at times.  After all, gotta set that example for hr after all, don't I?  3) Get as much of the rest of the apartment squared away that I can so that when I have to escape the kitchen, there's a safe place to escape to.  I think that's the plan for tomorrow.

First post from a new home

Unpacking, more unpacking, organizing and more unpacking!  This, I think, may be the story of my life for the next week!  (Hopefully not too much more than that, because I might go crazy if so...)

I feel completely overwhelmed by the amount of work that is left to do.  The living is starting to look like a room (except for a pile of boxes in front of the living room door), and Eliza's room looks... well, better.  Hers is mostly unpacked and yet it is still a mess.  Maybe that's just the way of it.  But the to-do list is never ending, and the kitchen has me cowed.  We don't have enough space for everything and I don't even know how to begin to organize it.  We need to get some shelves built in there, PRONTO.  I have to stock our non-existent pantry today, and where I'm going to put everything... I don't know.  I'd love to enlist my mom's help, but she has a day of her own.  Sigh.

There is also the cleaning factor that has me running scared.  Just the thought of wiping down every shelf and lining them, it's work I think needs to be done, but I'm so tired I can barely face doing it.  And then there's the fact that it's a busy week.  Today, doctor's appointment.  Next two days, window replacement.  Thursday, if the guys on windows are done, Bible study and d-group.  Only day left is Friday, and I'm sure something will come up by then.

I should really get off.  It seems Eliza might sleep later than I expected and I need a shower!  Ah, well.  At least our shower is quite, quite lovely. A smiley face is appropriate here.  :)

THE BIG MOVE!!!

Yes, folks!  It's finally happening.  I could not be more excited, overwhelmed, and a little shocked.  I have been so resistant to actually saying we're moving (and moving in) that now that we actually are, I find myself completely unprepared.  I should be packing and cleaning, and instead I'm having a little chat with you.

Here is the odyssey this week has brought: Sunday night, my dad and his friend had projected to completely finish their tasks in the bathroom.  Monday morning (after a very late night for those two diligent gentleman) brought the news that they hadn't finished the bathroom, but maybe they would finish it Monday night.  No, make that Wednesday night.  Nick and I began packing up stuff and taking things over earlier this week, with the hope and expectation that both plumber and electrician would be in and finished by Friday.  Electrician called and scheduled and done on time.  Wednesday night the linoleum went down on the floor, but not completely did it get finished.  Then the news about the plumber came: he wouldn't be able to get in until the next Tuesday.  What to do?  Our plan shifted that we would move everything in regardless and stay in the guest room at my parent's house until we could get a working bathroom.  We could certainly live out of suitcases for a few days, right?  Happy, happy day.  Let me tell you, the people at H & R Plumbing here in Topeka are gems!  They were able to get the plumber here, TODAY, on Friday to get everything done!  And so... we actually are moving in tomorrow!  TOMORROW!!  Yes, you could sing the song from Annie here if you like, if you must.  Just know, that I am happy and a little astounded that we will be moving into our own apartment and that we can get on with the next phase of life: renting-to-own.  It will take some time as we are still recovering from our financial trials of earlier this year, but it will happen in time.

So, I need to get off here!  We're moving tomorrow!  And once we're unpacked I will start posting the "after pictures" on facebook.  I think I might do a series of posts on here for any non-facebooking readers who might like to see before and after photos.  This might be even better for direct comparison purposes.  Until then, know I am packing up and unpacking and situating and settling and when our internet is up there I'll check in and give an update.

Over and out.

Soups and such

It's fall.  The cooler weather in the mornings (and if I'm lucky, the evenings) has me thinking of things like sweaters, hot chocolate, apple cider, and soup.  Ah, soup.  Food of the gods (if you believe in gods.  I don't recommend the plural).  Seriously, I would be just as happy to curl up with a bowl of soup as I would be with a warm cup of hot chocolate or even, maybe, a chai.  I don't think ambrosia is a fruit salad: it's soup.

There are a couple of soups on my list that I'm itching to make: my own chicken stock for one.  I saw a recipe for homemade stock on Barefoot Contessa, and I'm hankering to try it.  I've heard of putting onions and carrots and celery in your stock, but parsnips?  And the fact that you can throw them in unpeeled, everything unpeeled: onions, carrots, garlic, etc.  How fantastic is that.  And the broth is supposed to come out a beautiful golden color because you didn't.  Yes, fantastic.  I have plans for that broth.  I've seen nests of homestyle noodles at Dillons and I want to make homemade Chicken and Noodles.  I have a long list of soups to try: pureed vegetable soups, Italian Wedding Soup, etc.  But one I'd like to try I bet you may not be as familiar with: panade.  Yes, I want to make a panade.  Panade is apparently somewhere between soup and casserole (I also like casseroles).  It's layers of bread, cheese, and veggies, most popularly onions, ladled over with hot chicken broth.  Does it not sound good?  Everything melds together in the broth and is apparently thick and rich and inviting.  I don't know that I can convince Nick to try it with the onions and I haven't found a recipe without an onion base.  This may require some consideration.  But it's also related to another thing I want to try and doubt Nick would be willing to let me "stink up" the kitchen with: French Onion Soup.  It's been featured a lot on Food Network lately (my television of choice during the day) and I'm seriously wanting to try it.  But there's the onions.  Nick hates them.  What's a girl to do?  I may just have to try it and try to air out the kitchen as much as possible afterwards! 

Brain fog or writer's block

I don't know which it is, but it's sad.  This morning I got up with Nick (shortly before six) to do a few things and then ended up back in bed, unable to go back to sleep.  As I was laying there watching him get ready, he suggested some things I could do, including writing on my blog.  And I shrugged and said, "I don't really have anything to say at the moment."  It's so true.  And it's saddens me.

I haven't been writing much because I haven't had much to write about.  Our life is same-same: in holding pattern, waiting for the apartment bathroom to get finished so we can move, waiting for colder weather to come and cycle our clothing, waiting for energy to do the work I should, waiting for this, waiting for that, waiting, waiting, waiting....  It's not a lack of intellectual life: I've been reading and pondering, but none of those thoughts are really ready to share.  They're really only half-formed.  Eliza's not doing much new, just doing everything a little better.  She stands up on her own more and more, though she still won't move away from a body or a piece of furniture.  She chatters more, though she doesn't use any words, and we're still not sure if she's referring to us when she says "Mamamama or Dadadada."  I'm waiting for Nick to get his route down more so I can spend more time with him.  I'm waiting to move into town so we can have our own internet and I can use it when I'm free to use it more (though moments like this are very nice and I thank you, Mom and Dad!).  Waiting to move into town so I can get the apartment settled, start cooking more, starting hosting....  Waiting for more time to pass as we wait for our sonogram to come closer, to find out what we're having, for my belly to swell and I'll actually look pregnant.  Maybe I should change the title of this post! 

I realize there are things that I can and should be doing and I do in fact get to them when energy allows.  They are coming along slowly.  I have space-bagged all my non-maternity clothes, as our closets will be less user-friendly and spacious at the new apartment.  I have a pile of maternity clothes that are really only suited for big-belly time to take and stash in the back of one of those closets so we don't move everything at once.  I have a home child-proofing kit ready to take to the apartment so that is done.  I'd love to unpack my kitchen before we even move in, but I'm waiting for all the handy-man stuff and tools to get out of my kitchen!  I have a list of items to buy to prepare the apartment closets, shelves, and drawers for proper use.

I'm just ready to be done waiting.  My patience is about burned out.  It's not even that I'm impatient with the work, I'm just impatient with patience.  My dad and his friend are doing a marvelous job.  My parents have put in lots of valuable work and Nick and I will get to finish several things up when we move in.  It's just that, can we move in?  Can I be done talking about the rennovation for awhile and done talking about the whole thing in the future tense?  I'm ready to move on to the next phase.

Really, thank you for putting up with my little whine here.  It should be soon, maybe even as early as next week, though I hesitate to count on that because every time I start counting on a move date... it gets pushed back by one thing or another.  Patience is a virtue.  And the Lord is giving me a great deal of opportunity to practice so I can flex mine.