This past weekend I attended a funeral. That in itself is enough to make you stop and look at your life.
However this one really made me stop and think.
As I listened to eulogy after eulogy I began to realize what kind of impact this amazing woman made during her very long life. She was somewhat of a woman's right activist in her own way. Never one to take no for an answer.
Even though she led a very successful life, what amazed me the most was her husband of 69 years sitting in the front row with their 3 children, 7 granddaughters and 6 great grandsons.
As I sat there and listened and took in what was around me, I realized that this was my grandparents generation. These were the people that my dad had grown up with calling them Aunt and Uncle, so naturally that's how I refer to them as well.
The old adage "life is short" is something that we should never forget. We could wake up one morning and not the next. This is part of what led me to one of the biggest decisions I have ever made. It was also the hardest.
Marrying my husband. That was a no brainer.
Having children. Yet another easy decision.
Leaving my job to raise my children. Now that's another story.
I went back and forth over that one for weeks. Months even.
But in the end I realized that this was an awesome thing that I was fortunate to be able to do.
And life is short and I wasn't about to miss any of it.
Sure some days are incredibly stressful. Especially when there are no naps or tag-teamed crying spells. Or when there is a sick kid or a dog that throws up or wakes the babies by barking at a leaf.
But there are also days when I catch my kids talking to each other or laughing at one another. Or the baby smiling at me, and my daughter walking. I get to see all that first hand and it makes what seemed like a hard decision an easy one.
Life is short and your time here is not a dress rehearsal. Make sure you make the most of each and every day.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Lucky Number 7
This past weekend we had our little guy Baptized. He was welcomed into the church that has been part of my husband's family for a very long time.
Before the service began, the Pastor came over to talk to us about what would happen. "A refresher course" was how she explained it since not too long ago we went through it with our daughter. As she was standing there speaking to us, she took the time to talk to the baby. He then proceeded to smile and coo at her. You would have thought they had a deep connection at that point. A connection that made him know he belonged in that church, with that Pastor.
This Pastor married us six years ago. It was her first wedding with two clergy members.
She knows my family.
She has dined at my parents table.
She always takes the time to welcome people by name into the church. It is rather quite touching.
But let me go back. So while she was talking to the baby, I was looking around the church. Not that I haven't looked many times before, however every time I go I find something new.
This day I focused on a stained glass window that had my husbands family name on it. Of course I have seen the window before, however maybe it was the baptism that caused me to look again.
As we went through the service, I focused on what I knew. I knew that I was going to be raising my children to be a part of this church family. I knew that they were open and welcoming and didn't care that I was Jewish. They only cared that we were happy and healthy and warm hearted.
After the sermon it was our turn to go up front for Beanies big moment. It was equally important to us and the Pastor that we bring Peanut with us. As the big sister she was very much a part of this.
After the prayers and speaking, he was welcomed into the church family. People came over to say hello and offer the congratulations.
While all this was happening I noticed our uncle talking to the Pastor and pointing to the window.
The very window I was noticing before.
After everyone sat down, I realized why they were talking about the window.
That window symbolized my husbands family and their beginnings.
It was at that moment that the congregation was informed that our children and our nephew were the 7th generation to become members of the church.
We had no idea.
Ok. Maybe I had no idea, my husband never let on if he had any idea or not.
We also found out that the land the cemetery extension sits on was donated by my husbands family to the church.
When visiting the cemetery there is a farm at the bottom of a huge hill. This farm belonged to my husbands family.
I don't believe in much and I don't consider myself a religious person. But some times things happen that can not be helped or orchestrated. They were meant to be.
Much like the connection my baby boy had with the Pastor at that very moment before the service.
He knew he belonged.
Before the service began, the Pastor came over to talk to us about what would happen. "A refresher course" was how she explained it since not too long ago we went through it with our daughter. As she was standing there speaking to us, she took the time to talk to the baby. He then proceeded to smile and coo at her. You would have thought they had a deep connection at that point. A connection that made him know he belonged in that church, with that Pastor.
This Pastor married us six years ago. It was her first wedding with two clergy members.
She knows my family.
She has dined at my parents table.
She always takes the time to welcome people by name into the church. It is rather quite touching.
But let me go back. So while she was talking to the baby, I was looking around the church. Not that I haven't looked many times before, however every time I go I find something new.
This day I focused on a stained glass window that had my husbands family name on it. Of course I have seen the window before, however maybe it was the baptism that caused me to look again.
As we went through the service, I focused on what I knew. I knew that I was going to be raising my children to be a part of this church family. I knew that they were open and welcoming and didn't care that I was Jewish. They only cared that we were happy and healthy and warm hearted.
After the sermon it was our turn to go up front for Beanies big moment. It was equally important to us and the Pastor that we bring Peanut with us. As the big sister she was very much a part of this.
After the prayers and speaking, he was welcomed into the church family. People came over to say hello and offer the congratulations.
While all this was happening I noticed our uncle talking to the Pastor and pointing to the window.
The very window I was noticing before.
After everyone sat down, I realized why they were talking about the window.
That window symbolized my husbands family and their beginnings.
It was at that moment that the congregation was informed that our children and our nephew were the 7th generation to become members of the church.
We had no idea.
Ok. Maybe I had no idea, my husband never let on if he had any idea or not.
We also found out that the land the cemetery extension sits on was donated by my husbands family to the church.
When visiting the cemetery there is a farm at the bottom of a huge hill. This farm belonged to my husbands family.
I don't believe in much and I don't consider myself a religious person. But some times things happen that can not be helped or orchestrated. They were meant to be.
Much like the connection my baby boy had with the Pastor at that very moment before the service.
He knew he belonged.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
The Wait List
I feel like I am applying to college all over again.
It's high school repeating itself. The fear of rejection. The possibility of acceptance. All the emotions that go with both of those things.
However, it's much worse.
It's applying for a 2 year old program for my Peanut. When did she even get old enough for me to have to worry about this? I'm pretty sure that just yesterday we were planning her first birthday.
Now I'm looking for a 2 or 3 year old program for her to attend to prepare her for kindergarten. Holy cow. I am so not ready for all of this.
The place I contacted this morning told me that she was a bit young to enroll her in a program but I could put my name on the wait list. And they could possibly start her in September but on a trial basis because she would be just 2.
The whole time I was on the phone with this very nice, very understanding lady, my brain was screaming.
No you can not have my child.
She's my baby.
How can I send her to you 2 or 3 days a week?
However, I managed to keep it together and answer her questions. I even set up a visit with enthusiasm. Because deep down I know it's what she needs. She needs to have this freedom and socialization. It's going to do nothing but prepare her for the many, many years ahead of school that she has.
The next step would be visiting.
'Bring your child' she said.
'Let her run around and play,' she said.
Umm yeah about that. She can play. She does that really well.
It's the walking thing she's not too sure about. However we are getting there. Everyday she walks more and more. And we do work with her.
Hopefully my husband won't have to carry her down the isle at her wedding.
Kidding.
But seriously. Who would have even imagined that there would be a wait list for these types of programs?
I'm just grateful that she doesn't understand the fear of rejection yet. Let her parents worry about that for now so that she can continue to be a happy, growing toddler.
It's high school repeating itself. The fear of rejection. The possibility of acceptance. All the emotions that go with both of those things.
However, it's much worse.
It's applying for a 2 year old program for my Peanut. When did she even get old enough for me to have to worry about this? I'm pretty sure that just yesterday we were planning her first birthday.
Now I'm looking for a 2 or 3 year old program for her to attend to prepare her for kindergarten. Holy cow. I am so not ready for all of this.
The place I contacted this morning told me that she was a bit young to enroll her in a program but I could put my name on the wait list. And they could possibly start her in September but on a trial basis because she would be just 2.
The whole time I was on the phone with this very nice, very understanding lady, my brain was screaming.
No you can not have my child.
She's my baby.
How can I send her to you 2 or 3 days a week?
However, I managed to keep it together and answer her questions. I even set up a visit with enthusiasm. Because deep down I know it's what she needs. She needs to have this freedom and socialization. It's going to do nothing but prepare her for the many, many years ahead of school that she has.
The next step would be visiting.
'Bring your child' she said.
'Let her run around and play,' she said.
Umm yeah about that. She can play. She does that really well.
It's the walking thing she's not too sure about. However we are getting there. Everyday she walks more and more. And we do work with her.
Hopefully my husband won't have to carry her down the isle at her wedding.
Kidding.
But seriously. Who would have even imagined that there would be a wait list for these types of programs?
I'm just grateful that she doesn't understand the fear of rejection yet. Let her parents worry about that for now so that she can continue to be a happy, growing toddler.
Traditions
The title of this post automatically had me thinking of Fiddler on the Roof.
Of course being Jewish - yes that's where I went.
We are an inter-faith couple. Our children are being raised to understand and respect both the Jewish and the Lutheran Faiths. Do we have our bumps? Absolutely.
We had a Pastor and a Rabbi marry us.
Those same two lovey people Baptized and Named our first child.
In two weeks we will be Baptizing our son in my husbands family church.
We host Christmas in this house. Me the born and raised Jewish girl. And there are a lot of people to cook for. But I love it. Every aspect of it. I love that both of our families come together to celebrate. I don't think we are celebrating the holiday as much as we are celebrating being together.
With all that being said, here's where I am going with this.
Today we got our stuff together and went to Church. It was the first time we have gone with both kids. We decided going before the Baptism would help get Peanut in a routine so that she would be okay to sit in church in two weeks.
While I sat there and listened to the Pastor deliver her sermon, I began to reflect on my religious beliefs and upbringing.
We went to services at our previous synagogue three times a year. Unless there was a Mitzvah to attend. Or a Funeral. Or a Wedding. That was it. We didn't go on the weekend. We attended for the major holidays. There were also dues. A huge sum that covered your dues. That was the way it was. No one questioned it. It happened.
I say previous because we no longer belong to that synagogue. When the Rabbi I had studied with for years - all through middle and high school - refused to acknowledge my wedding to my husband we left.
All because of his religious background.
Which brings me back towards today. Today I sat in the small, but welcoming church. The Pastor talked about upcoming events and who needed prayers said for them. She then began the service. There was a children's sermon, and a sermon for the adults.
She called people by name.
She knew what their ailments were.
What their accomplishments were.
When we left she asked about my parents, by name. It was a heartwarming feeling. Especially since in 6 years she has seen my parents maybe 5 times.
As I sat there and listened she spoke of family and of love and of support and of traditions. At one point I realized I wanted to be more a part of this than my own religion. I already have become more of this Church family.
It upset me.
For about 30 seconds.
Then I realized, I'm not giving up on my own religion. I still want our children to know where they are coming from. I want to teach them all about both of our traditions. But the most important thing I want for them is the feeling of belonging.
I want them to go thru life knowing that there will always be someone there for them if they for some reason can not come to us.
I want them to be able to use good judgment when they have to make decisions.
But most importantly I want them to grow up in a world where they feel challenged, safe and loved.
Of course being Jewish - yes that's where I went.
We are an inter-faith couple. Our children are being raised to understand and respect both the Jewish and the Lutheran Faiths. Do we have our bumps? Absolutely.
We had a Pastor and a Rabbi marry us.
Those same two lovey people Baptized and Named our first child.
In two weeks we will be Baptizing our son in my husbands family church.
We host Christmas in this house. Me the born and raised Jewish girl. And there are a lot of people to cook for. But I love it. Every aspect of it. I love that both of our families come together to celebrate. I don't think we are celebrating the holiday as much as we are celebrating being together.
With all that being said, here's where I am going with this.
Today we got our stuff together and went to Church. It was the first time we have gone with both kids. We decided going before the Baptism would help get Peanut in a routine so that she would be okay to sit in church in two weeks.
While I sat there and listened to the Pastor deliver her sermon, I began to reflect on my religious beliefs and upbringing.
We went to services at our previous synagogue three times a year. Unless there was a Mitzvah to attend. Or a Funeral. Or a Wedding. That was it. We didn't go on the weekend. We attended for the major holidays. There were also dues. A huge sum that covered your dues. That was the way it was. No one questioned it. It happened.
I say previous because we no longer belong to that synagogue. When the Rabbi I had studied with for years - all through middle and high school - refused to acknowledge my wedding to my husband we left.
All because of his religious background.
Which brings me back towards today. Today I sat in the small, but welcoming church. The Pastor talked about upcoming events and who needed prayers said for them. She then began the service. There was a children's sermon, and a sermon for the adults.
She called people by name.
She knew what their ailments were.
What their accomplishments were.
When we left she asked about my parents, by name. It was a heartwarming feeling. Especially since in 6 years she has seen my parents maybe 5 times.
As I sat there and listened she spoke of family and of love and of support and of traditions. At one point I realized I wanted to be more a part of this than my own religion. I already have become more of this Church family.
It upset me.
For about 30 seconds.
Then I realized, I'm not giving up on my own religion. I still want our children to know where they are coming from. I want to teach them all about both of our traditions. But the most important thing I want for them is the feeling of belonging.
I want them to go thru life knowing that there will always be someone there for them if they for some reason can not come to us.
I want them to be able to use good judgment when they have to make decisions.
But most importantly I want them to grow up in a world where they feel challenged, safe and loved.
Monday, January 20, 2014
The Green Eyed Monster
I am jealous.
There I said it. Okay. Not just jealous.
Super Jealous.
Like constantly on the internet reading and scouring the blog to get more information. Setting the DVR to record every show and then hopping on the computer to print out the information from that show.
I am driving my husband crazy.
What is the cause of this craziness?
The Pioneer Woman.
I want to own a Ranch. In the middle of no where. I want the kitchen she has. I want to cook everything she makes.
I'm addicted.
Yesterday I re-watched to new episode where she made Peach Whiskey Bar B Que chicken.
I took my mothers bottle of Jim Beam Black. I'm going to make that chicken.
I'm not ashamed. My mom's pantry rivals the Giant and Sam's Club combined. And she has two pantries. She is the go to when I need something. However she did not have Preach Preserves. I was slightly saddened.
I also swiped some peaches from her fridge.
Jealously does crazy things to a person.
If this is my only addiction however I figure I'm safe. I mean we have to eat, and I do the cooking. I am able to convert recipes to our food preferences pretty easily. So why not try and challenge myself to convert her recipes?
I am still however working on the wide open Ranch thing and the new kitchen thing. That might take some time.
There I said it. Okay. Not just jealous.
Super Jealous.
Like constantly on the internet reading and scouring the blog to get more information. Setting the DVR to record every show and then hopping on the computer to print out the information from that show.
I am driving my husband crazy.
What is the cause of this craziness?
The Pioneer Woman.
I want to own a Ranch. In the middle of no where. I want the kitchen she has. I want to cook everything she makes.
I'm addicted.
Yesterday I re-watched to new episode where she made Peach Whiskey Bar B Que chicken.
I took my mothers bottle of Jim Beam Black. I'm going to make that chicken.
I'm not ashamed. My mom's pantry rivals the Giant and Sam's Club combined. And she has two pantries. She is the go to when I need something. However she did not have Preach Preserves. I was slightly saddened.
I also swiped some peaches from her fridge.
Jealously does crazy things to a person.
If this is my only addiction however I figure I'm safe. I mean we have to eat, and I do the cooking. I am able to convert recipes to our food preferences pretty easily. So why not try and challenge myself to convert her recipes?
I am still however working on the wide open Ranch thing and the new kitchen thing. That might take some time.
The Fussy Files
It's true. Whatever you were told about having another child is true.
Well most of it.
When random strangers tell you that your children will be completely different. Yep.
We were spoiled with Peanut. She came home from the hospital and was automatically sleeping thru the night. She was a good eater and always happy.
She still is.
Any given day she will take 2 naps and still go down for the night at 8. She is still a good eater. She eats things most grown adults in our families don't eat.
Beanie does not sleep well. Well let me rephrase that.
He sleeps well during the day. Its at night that we are having an issue. Except for last night.
6 weeks.
It took him six weeks to sleep. At night. And I'm not even mad that he woke at 2 am for a feeding because he went back to sleep. Until almost 7. It was glorious.
And even now as I sit and write this they are both sleeping. I cherish naptime. It allows me to not become institutionalized and I can try and get something done.
Not that that happens very often, but I try.
Well most of it.
When random strangers tell you that your children will be completely different. Yep.
We were spoiled with Peanut. She came home from the hospital and was automatically sleeping thru the night. She was a good eater and always happy.
She still is.
Any given day she will take 2 naps and still go down for the night at 8. She is still a good eater. She eats things most grown adults in our families don't eat.
Beanie does not sleep well. Well let me rephrase that.
He sleeps well during the day. Its at night that we are having an issue. Except for last night.
6 weeks.
It took him six weeks to sleep. At night. And I'm not even mad that he woke at 2 am for a feeding because he went back to sleep. Until almost 7. It was glorious.
And even now as I sit and write this they are both sleeping. I cherish naptime. It allows me to not become institutionalized and I can try and get something done.
Not that that happens very often, but I try.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Cows . . .
For those of you who know me you know I cook.
A lot.
Like, more than most people a lot.
Every week I make breakfast, lunch and dinner. From scratch basically, and in very large quantities, seven days a week. That's 21 meals. Although most times I am making extra things in between.
When I became pregnant the second time we had a major talk about budget. Especially since I was having a boy. (Although I fully believe that the old adage 'Boys eat more' isn't true. Have dinner with my little girl and you will be amazed.)
Four years ago we began buying our beef and some pork and lamb from a local farm. They specialize in grass fed meat. Only grass fed. These animals aren't grain finished at all. Every couple months we visit our friends and walk away with 30-40 pounds of meat. I get a really good deal and they are wonderful people.
Taking Peanut to the farm was odd at first, all I kept thinking was 'Oh hey! There's the cow Momma and Daddy are gonna feed you.' But in all honesty she's really too young to understand and she loves the farm and all of its animals. (We do indeed own Little People Farm things and they are a favorite over here)
This past weekend we made our regular trip out to the farm. It was really exciting because we were taking the little guy and our friends were really excited to meet him. Peanut was even more aware and it was a fun time.
Until they dropped a bomb.
No more cattle. They are switching to lamb. Umm Hello? What?
I was devastated. At first I thought it was a joke. Then I went into overdrive. Racking my brain to think where else we could buy meat and cheap. And oh no did I need another freezer? When would we come back and just catch up? My little girl loved to visit. I was on the verge of a panic attack.
However I pulled it together and we worked out a plan.
I found another cattle company. While the cost up front is more, in the long run it will be better. I now have 3 months to figure out how to store 225 pounds of beef. Doesn't that sound thrilling?
Why go thru all of this though? What is the benefit you ask?
So many things.
We are a grain, dairy and processed sugar free household. Well for the most part. There are somethings we slack on but quality beef, fruits and veggies are not on the list. We follow a Paleo eating habit and honestly after the initial shock it was cheaper and very easy to follow. I make a ton of things from scratch. And I am always looking for ways to convert a recipe.
The health benefits have been an added bonus. I have lost weight and kept it off. Came off of all my medication. The husband no longer has the allergies he had and he is able to work out like a mad man. Our oldest is 17 months old and has only been sick twice. Both times were colds. She loves to eat whatever we are eating and there is no fighting at the dinner table.
While shopping does take longer, its okay. I read every label - unless I buy that item on a regular basis - but I know what I am buying. And I plan my meals before I hit the store so I'm not over buying or spending too much time there.
Some people don't agree with how we eat or how we are raising our children but it works for us. All it takes is a little bit of time and effort. And honestly Peanut is a smart, happy and healthy baby and her parents are healthy too.
In the end isn't that all that matters?
A lot.
Like, more than most people a lot.
Every week I make breakfast, lunch and dinner. From scratch basically, and in very large quantities, seven days a week. That's 21 meals. Although most times I am making extra things in between.
When I became pregnant the second time we had a major talk about budget. Especially since I was having a boy. (Although I fully believe that the old adage 'Boys eat more' isn't true. Have dinner with my little girl and you will be amazed.)
Four years ago we began buying our beef and some pork and lamb from a local farm. They specialize in grass fed meat. Only grass fed. These animals aren't grain finished at all. Every couple months we visit our friends and walk away with 30-40 pounds of meat. I get a really good deal and they are wonderful people.
Taking Peanut to the farm was odd at first, all I kept thinking was 'Oh hey! There's the cow Momma and Daddy are gonna feed you.' But in all honesty she's really too young to understand and she loves the farm and all of its animals. (We do indeed own Little People Farm things and they are a favorite over here)
This past weekend we made our regular trip out to the farm. It was really exciting because we were taking the little guy and our friends were really excited to meet him. Peanut was even more aware and it was a fun time.
Until they dropped a bomb.
No more cattle. They are switching to lamb. Umm Hello? What?
I was devastated. At first I thought it was a joke. Then I went into overdrive. Racking my brain to think where else we could buy meat and cheap. And oh no did I need another freezer? When would we come back and just catch up? My little girl loved to visit. I was on the verge of a panic attack.
However I pulled it together and we worked out a plan.
I found another cattle company. While the cost up front is more, in the long run it will be better. I now have 3 months to figure out how to store 225 pounds of beef. Doesn't that sound thrilling?
Why go thru all of this though? What is the benefit you ask?
So many things.
We are a grain, dairy and processed sugar free household. Well for the most part. There are somethings we slack on but quality beef, fruits and veggies are not on the list. We follow a Paleo eating habit and honestly after the initial shock it was cheaper and very easy to follow. I make a ton of things from scratch. And I am always looking for ways to convert a recipe.
The health benefits have been an added bonus. I have lost weight and kept it off. Came off of all my medication. The husband no longer has the allergies he had and he is able to work out like a mad man. Our oldest is 17 months old and has only been sick twice. Both times were colds. She loves to eat whatever we are eating and there is no fighting at the dinner table.
While shopping does take longer, its okay. I read every label - unless I buy that item on a regular basis - but I know what I am buying. And I plan my meals before I hit the store so I'm not over buying or spending too much time there.
Some people don't agree with how we eat or how we are raising our children but it works for us. All it takes is a little bit of time and effort. And honestly Peanut is a smart, happy and healthy baby and her parents are healthy too.
In the end isn't that all that matters?
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