La Naturale

WARNING!

Some may find the account below to fall into the TMI category.  Others, though, are strangely drawn to the knitty gritty details of childbirth.  Childbirth is kind of like watching a horror film,  you know there is something scary, bloody and quite possibly excruciating lurking around the corner but you open that rickety old cellar door anyway.  The traditional line of defense of baseball bat or large cleaver is replaced by breathing techniques and Hail Marys.  Luckily the serial killer at the end is replaced by a cute, angelic baby.

Unfortunately, a stomach bug in the early hours of a Monday morning in November caused me to again  reflect on the pains of childbirth.  As I hovered over the toilet and later over the "big blue bowl" my anxiety increased as I wondered, "How am I going to do this?" "How am I going to be a parent today?"  "It hurts SO bad!"  I hopelessly groaned to Pete from the bedroom, "I think I may have to go to the hospital."  The children were still asleep, fortunately, and Pete was just about ready to leave for work.  He ended up taking the day off but did have to make a quick trip to a coworker in the area to get the right phone number to call since he recently lost his phone to the ol' Permanent Press and rinse monster.  Praise God that once dispelling the contents of my stomach I felt much better.  I rested in bed administering meals to Clement periodically while Pete otherwise adopted all childrearing responsibilities.  By 4pm I was up and moving around having never experienced any other undesirable symptoms of the cold or flu.  Consequently, I'm chalking the sickness up to something I ate.  What that was...who could tell.  It was Thanksgiving weekend after all!!

The point of this tangential tale you may ask. 

I can honestly say that the cramping and pain I experienced on that Monday was worse than what I choose to recall from the birthing experience of our three sons.  As a quick recap- with Luke my water broke at 37 and a half weeks but no contractions came.  Pete and I walked around the hospital for hours-but still nothing.  Eventually I was seen by the doctor  (the only one in the practice I hadn't met yet) who cursed during our first consultation then and there and proceeded to use scare tactics.  I was administered Pitocin to move things along.  About 18 hours after my water broke I opted to get an epidural feeling tired and stressed. Luke arrived 25 hours after my water broke.  Despite being "complete" and very ready to push an hour earlier I was then told to wait and "labor down" because we were waiting on Amy.  Amy?  Who the heck is Amy?  Pete, typically rather peaceful and laid back spoke up and snapped,  "What happened to the whole 24 hours mark? and "this baby's going to end up in the NICU if it's not out in 24 hours."?!?!?!?  Nonetheless, after Amy arrived there was a quick coaching, three pushes and Luke was out.

Augustine was a different experience. Having moved back to Ohio with 3/5 of the pregnancy complete I opted to go to a single doctor.  I've blogged about it before but basically was induced at 41 weeks.  Augustine was born only 5 hours after the administration of Pitocin began and his face was purpley-blue with red marks as a result.  I passed on the epidural with Augustine as I was not fond of the sensitive hole in my back, the longer wait time to walk after labor allowing for my legs to "wake up" and the nausea and sickness that ensued 12 hours after Luke was born.   I did opt for a dose of Nubaine which made me a bit "whoozy" and relaxed.  I remember the shocking brightness of the overhead lights that the doctor flipped on before the crucial point of pushing and took some mild satisfaction in involuntarily emptying the contents of my bladder at his feet given the snide remarks I endured from him over the last few days.  The doctor and more than one of the nurses commented after the brief period of pushing with our slick warm second son resting on my bare chest that it was a "picture perfect" or "beautiful" birth that ought to have been videotaped for instructional purposes.  The rave reviews of the performance of my nether regions made me feel both awkward and proud and so I turned my focus eager to inspect and appreciate every square centimeter of Augustine John.  I was somewhat surprised by his strong latching ability and grateful that breastfeeding came more easily the second time around.

With the practice I chose with Clement we had the option of  utilizing nurse-midwives.  Having met with Jamie more consistently throughout the pregnancy, in the final trimester, it was revealed that Jamie would not be delivering and that Halle was covering as much as she could with regard to the patients.  My water broke/gurgled around 11:00pm on June 30th.  We called Grandma Angie over that night but I showered and rested atop towels at home waiting for labor to ensue.  The contractions never really came despite having experienced more tightening/precursors in the last trimester than I had with Luke and Augustine.  Dr. Downey seemed perturbed when Pete called in around 7am on July 1st and sternly directed us to report to the hospital.  She did however allow us to walk the halls of Mercy and give my body a chance to move things along naturally.  We did rounds of 60 minutes walking to 15 minutes  on the monitor.  Come 10:30am labor still had not hit and the doctor recommended starting the Pitocin, if only for a kick start.  I slept for an hour or two to store up my energy comforted by the rhythmic beat of the baby's heart turned low on the monitor.

Fast forward a few hours and imagine my frustration as I stared at the monitor to see no increase in the height of the peaks for the contractions.  I was certainly feeling more uncomfortable but only became more frustrated thinking, "I'm getting tired.  How am I going to push? I don't know how much more of this I can handle? Why don't we have our baby in our arms yet?" With tears in my eyes I turned to the nurse to ask if I had progressed at all and if we could discuss pain management options.  She asked, "How would you rate your pain?" which brought my mind to that stupid pain assessment graphic that I found ridiculously annoying adorning the hospital room walls.  "I don't know. A six or a seven maybe?  But I don't know how much more of this I can handle especially since the contractions aren't getting any stronger according to the monitor."  "Oh! Don't go by the monitor honey.  It's not all that accurate.  The strap could slip around and the measurements could vary based on where the sensors are located.  You have to go by how you're feeling."

You'd think with it being my third time around I would be a pro at this labor thing by now.  After all, third time's a charm right?

"How much longer do I have?"

"Can I have some nubaine?" I inquired

"I can check."
The nurse extracted a small box containing nubaine from the cabinet and used her little radio to call the doctor.  The doctor must have asked how far along I was.  The nurse got her gloves and checked my cervix.  She called the doctor back and reported that I was around seven centimeters.  After a pause and listening intently the nurse bid the doc farewell and replaced her radio at her hip.

"The bad news is...you can't have the Nubaine.  You're too far along and it could cause respiratory issues with the baby.  ...The good news is... the midwife is on her way and will have some strategies to help manage the pain."

I managed to get myself up out of the bed in between contractions with a tangle of cords and tubes from the monitor and IV and settled in on the large orange birthing/exercise ball.  This was a wonderful change from lying in bed where I could "rock n' roll" gently of course during the contractions and stabilize myself with the bed rail or Pete sitting nearby. 

The midwife arrived within a half an hour and spoke softly and calmly through a couple contractions as I moaned and groaned and breathed.

"How much longer? When is it time to push?"

"Listen to your body. Your body will tell you. You tell me when." Halle responded calmly.

I found this response lovely, yet oh so irritating.  Like, "How lovely, ..it's about time I've worked with someone supportive and in tuned to the natural way of childbirth." and " GRRRRRR....JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO WOMAN!"

Sometime within the next ten minutes, Halle was helping me up from the ball to empty my bladder which would make a little more room for baby to descend.  She applied firm pressure to both of my hips which felt glorious. We walked slowly  across the span of the room.  About three quarters of the way to the bathroom as Halle was trying to maneuver the IV stand along the journey it got disconnected and fell to the floor.  She did her best to get me all put back together and into the bathroom where another contraction hit which made it slightly more challenging to relax and relieve myself.

Halle applied more pressure to my hips as we walked back across the room and a trio of crimson droplets dotted the floor. 

"I need to lay down and stretch out a bit." I said.

Moments later Halle and the nurses were transforming the bed and assuming their positions for the pushing phase.  "Okay Elise you're going to push down hard but don't forget to breathe."

In a matter of four or five pushes Clement was out, warm and gushy with a full head of dark black hair.  He was on my chest less than five minutes before his lips started smacking, head a-bobbing and arms pushing to find his way to my breast.  I giggled a little asking him,  "Are you hungry son? Ready to eat Clement?"  getting used to saying his name out loud.  "Yeah, mommy too."

Halle and two other nurses worked competently throughout the room as Pete and I cherished the little form of God's marvelous creation, but also wondering and waiting to get all the vital statistics to pass on to family and friends.  One of the nurses finally took Clement to clean him up (he was covered in meconium as he emerged from the womb) and take his measurements.  I asked the other nurse for a throat lozenge because my throat hurt from the guttural noises I made during labor.  Note to self: bring cinnamon discs or mints to suck on after IV is born as apparently the hospital had no such relief available.

Now, I don't know the Bobsy twins but that's all I could think of as a new set of nurses came in to bathe and check over Clement.  They seemed so scattergoried and inefficient,  dropping pens, misplacing measuring tapes and taking forever to complete the simplest of tasks as they carried on about their husbands and most recent lunch hour. All this was punctuated by Clement's impatient cries as he wiggled around in his birthday suit wishing, no doubt, that he was snuggled up close to mom again. (He's still more of a cuddler than Luke and Augustine ever were.)

Pete, Clement and I were all situated in our new room less than two hours after Clement's birth.  I was very excited to greet Luke and Augustine and have them meet Clement.  Augustine was apprehensive having not enjoyed the elevator ride up to the maternity ward, and somewhat taken aback by seeing mommy, with another baby, sitting up in a strange room and a strange bed.  There are quite a few pictures below, some very similar but it was hard to choose only a few as the facial expressions change ever so slightly to reveal quite the range of emotions.  It was such a wonderful feeling to be reunited with the rest of our family and make the first introductions. (Plus they came bearing some delightful loaded baked potato soup from Subway which tasted oh so good and helped with my sore throat ;-)

I suppose it's fitting that I FINALLY complete this post on Good Friday.  Pain and agony leading up to the promise of new life, through His Son, Jesus Christ.

#1 Star

These silly monkeys helped me with a special project for Clement's first birthday.  After all, our third born kind of got the shaft in terms of blog posts so I ought to have made up for it somehow.  Luke's 5th birthday is coming up soon.  Hopefully he'll forget about the piñata.  First we blew up a balloon and used cereal boxes to construct a frame for the soon-to-be-shattered star.  Luke earned a gold star of his own in the paper ripping event and Augustine bowed out soon after seeing the process was bound to be a bit messy.  We started the project 3 days before the party, I think, but I still cut it close.

 Here's what the star looked like after the paper mache .  I have no idea how many layers of paper  I put on the entire structure.  I tried to make sure every spot was thoroughly covered and it wouldn't rip under it's own weight when hanging.  I wasn't especially strategic in my placing since I had a curious Luke Francis by my side asking somewhere around 1, 342 questions throughout the process.  When I went downstairs to check it after a night of drying I discovered the top side nearly dry but the bottom side quite wet, so I gave it a flip and hoped for the best.

The day before the party, I added a couple extra pages from the phonebook to the main body of the star for reinforcement.  I cut a square shaped flap

about 5 inches across to be able to insert the stuffins' and found that,

 A.) I had used enough layers to make the structure 3/8ths of an inch thick and

 B.) that the inside was not yet dry. I used a hairdryer to help speed up the drying process and let it bake in the sun for a couple hours as well.  Then I added the goodies, used some packing tape to close the hole and did the decorating.

Pete had taken the boys to complete some errands so I could wrestle with the glue and tissue paper.  I cut the tissue paper into strips that were about six inches wide, folded them so a two and a half inch piece hung over the bottom half then cut the bottom layer into 1 inch sections and did the top flap the same way so that it resulted in alternating fringe.  I used traditional Elmer's glue to affix the paper to the frame.  I had to keep reminding myself that the thing was destined to be beat by a bat and therefore tried to ignore my perfectionist tendencies and tried not to worry about the beauty pageant judges.
   The invitations had stars on them and so did the cake.  It was a spice cake with cream cheese frosting.  The rest of the menu consisted of a variety of subs including an Italian, a ham and swiss, a turkey and cheddar, and oversized meatballs in the crock pot (made by Pete) for individual meatball subs and a lovely, colorful summer fruit salad (I can hardly wait until those are back in season!), some chips/munchies and a tray of condiments and other fixins' for the sandwiches.

 

 

We had a nice crowd for the festivities and Aunt Kate and Uncle Andrew joined us via the interwaves.  Clement has been the best of our boys yet in blowing out the candle at the one year mark.  He's also the best at blowing his nose.  He seemed to have a good time despite having a puffy eye from mosquito bites from the previous night.  We spent more time outside with tikki torches adding to the atmosphere and the mosquitoes supped further on Clement's sweet skin and he woke the next day with his eye practically swollen shut but still smiled at everyone  at the family reunion.

 

Even Grandma Schafer took a whack at the piñata determined to spring forth it's bounty after all the younger boys gave it their best shot two times through the order.  (I guess there were enough layers ;-) 

 Uncle Andy conquered the challenge using the handle of a metal shovel & Jacob donned the crown.

We celebrated Augustine's feast day in late August with a spread of food and jello desserts with overly saturated gummy sharks and octopi.  We also entertained the crowd with gigantic bubbles, a water balloon/squirter fight and brought out the tikki torches once again.

 

 And a little over a month later we celebrated Augustine's 3rd birthday by heading back to Arrowhead Orchard and feasting on his apple walnut train cake with oreo wheels and candy as cargo.

We had strawberry shortcake for Luke's feast day in October as well. We didn't do so well in considering the spacing of feast days/birthdays when we chose names for our children resulting in a heavily laden late summer/early fall when it comes to parties.  It can be so fun...

...and yet so exhausting.

Enter Felix

In my last post about a recent "date night" I alluded to shopping for vacuum cleaners.  I should be charged with neglect for having not highlighted this new important member of our family sooner.  Felix joined the Schafer household in October of 2014 when Pete and I went out for the first time after Clement was born.  Joe at a local sweeper store in North Canton convinced Pete to try something other than a bagless vacuum. Beyond that Pete pretty much left the shopping to me.  Given the utility of the gift and knowing my enjoyment of the household chore we were willing to spend some bigger bucks in order to find me a suitable dancing partner.

 Introducing FELIX

Joe had a special running on SEBO vacs and gave us a demo of another model that adjusted to the height of the carpet automatically, looked a bit more traditional, and boasted the duties of keeping Disney World and the White House, among other prominent households in ship-shop shape. And, though we typically tend toward the American made option we could not ignore the high quality engineering and sturdy workmanship of this German gadget.  Glancing across the store the unique 70s looking model caught my eye and we got the details from Joe for this more modest, yet marvelous machine.

 

Here are some of Felix's fine qualities:

• It's designed by a woman
• Adjustable handle with bumper on the handle to prevent extra dings
• Variant power switch
• Converts to a canister vac that can be carried easily to clean steps and other nooks and crannies
• smaller width which may mean more passes but along with the swivel handle allows for easy maneuvering around furniture and other hard to reach areas
• Low profile laying close to ground so you can reach all the way under the bed to eradicate dust bunnies easily
• changeable outer filter that comes in a variety of designs that allows Felix to dress for the occasion (we haven't needed to change this yet but it might be fun to go with a different color or pattern next time)
•  Hose insert to the top of the bag which allows you to fill entire bag and it's easy and not messy to change
• easy to switch  parquet attachment to use on tile, wood, or linoleum floors
• long cord allowing me to sweep the whole main floor from one outlet
• BONUS: hours of fun in converting the box Felix came in into our very own airplane with rotating propeller made possible by old sweeper tube attachment.

"yuggage" filled airplane ready for inspection

 

Take-off!

 

Felix's Potential Pitfalls

• The boys too like operating Felix which doesn't give me much alone time and sometimes extends the run time to complete the chore (if only they liked doing laundry as much)
• More attachments to double as swords, trumpets, baseball bats or other utensils
• Felix did not come with a brush attachment, or shoulder strap...perhaps stocking stuffers for another year...?

 

 

 

Blessed we are as we did acquire another cordless rechargeable vacuum that we keep stationed in the basement primarily for keeping the family minivan Viceroy free of debris but also keeps all the boys involved when I get Felix out for a run.  They are helpful  and capable of sweeping the steps and rugs easily.

 

I'm certainly grateful for my little helpers, electrical and otherwise.

 

We like to party!

 

Pete and I recently relived our wild and crazy dating days!  Actually it was the total opposite.  Upon Mom and Dad Schafer's return from Arizona visiting Sr. John-Mark, the whole family gathered at Pizza Hut for some good eats where Lisa mentioned that she was going out to hear a band in Cuyahoga Falls and extended the invitation.  I quickly blurted, "Hmm... maybe.  Sounds like fun.  I've got a babysitter!"  Babysitter- father- well they can be one in the same.  I had been craving some time out without the kids which gets more difficult with Pete's evening schedule of classes.  I then learned that Matt and Debbie were making the trip out.   Not too crazy about having to drive out on my own when I'm just as pleased to stay home and spend a relaxing evening with a good film and popcorn next to my husband I had nearly dismissed the opportunity.

As we pulled out of the parking lot after dinner though, Pete's comment of, "Well, it's obvious my siblings like you more than me.  They didn't invite me out!"  Feeling a little bad for the poor guy, I suggested that my babysitter comment probably kai-bashed his invitation and then asked if he wanted to go.  "Are you asking me on a date?" "Yes, I guess so."

Now to find a sitter...

Yay for Grandma Angie and her willingness to take on the challenge.  Still, it took some serious consideration since Augustine and Clement had fallen asleep on our way home from Pizza Hut and us going out would mean loading them back up in the car and heading to Portage County where they would spend the night with their parents out on the town. 

 

In our deliberations I plainly asked Pete,  "Is this the responsible choice?  Is this what parents should do?"  His response: "What most parents do?"

Enticed by the spontaneity of the plan we loaded the boys back up in Viceroy, jammy clad and bags in tow.  Not that parenting, lacks spontaneity- seriously folks- every single moment with young children can be a surprise, a curveball, a dizzying adventure.  I can't really rationalize it any other way, but a date night is  a self-centered choice to live a little, throw caution to the wind, and just BE.  I specifically chose self centered over selfish because that small ounce of adult time can work wonders in rejuvenating a connection between husband and wife and keep the marriage and family persevering through the mundane, through the chaos, through the rich and through the poor.

Minus the weekly social gatherings at B-dubs for fifty cent wings, the bar scene was not part of Pete and I's courting routine.  I'm certainly not complaining, but this out of the ordinary experience, loud 80s cover band music, eclectic crowds of 21 year olds newly inducted to the drunken stupor club and 65 year olds high on life masquerading confident dance moves and hat tricks, surrounded by glowing football broadcasts and equally bright and animated wardrobes and language, and the onslaught of smells of yeasty ale, overly applied cologne, fried foods, and nicotine tainted breath exhibited a certain kind of intrigue. 

Ultimately, though, it would be quite easy for me to pass on the experience should the opportunity arise again.  I enjoyed the time talking (or should I say screaming) with Pete and other adults, but would pass with the sore throat which resulted. I enjoyed the tasty Baja burger that we shared cooked to our liking, accompanied by cheesy French fries with bacon that I did not have to cook nor do the dishes for afterward, but our pretzel buns are better and much more cost effective.  I enjoyed wibble-wobbling around on the dance floor with my husband, but much prefer the musical beats in our own heads and the BOOM-shawkka-lawkas that erupt in the comforts of our own home and the boys' individuality and creative rhythms that add to the mix. 

You know what the best part of the date was?!?!?  Spending time with my husband:  the long car ride to the pub and back where we could talk and make a bunch of relatively simple decisions without interruptions, our laughs we shared as we interjected various phrases and actions characteristic of our boys in their absence,  our revisiting fun, interesting memories from our pasts like Pete's love of Tears for Fears and my knowledge of Tainted Love from multiple viewings of Coneheads on TBS,  the uninterrupted night of sleep, knowing that our offspring were safe and well taken care of at the grandparents (where they all slept marvelously through the night- How does that always happen?!?!),   and Pete's disappointment when I showed up for Mass without the boys.  Even though they went with Grandma and Grandpa, we both felt somewhat guilty and strange without having to wrestle the cute little minions in the pew. Beautiful. Being united in our thoughts, actions, hopes, and dreams and striving to share a life of faith together with our family.

It's no wonder it's crazy to think we've been married nearly six years and the countless adventures we've experienced so far.  The time has flown by even since these pictures from November of 2014.  We like to party- for feast days, for holidays, for every days.  It doesn't matter if we're hanging out on Spangler Road, heading to the beach, or shopping for a vacuum (more on that later), the Schafer family is one movin' and a groovin', happnin' crew!

A Change of Heart

My philosophy when it comes to gardening has typically been, Why plant something you can't eat? Pete has made me feel a bit guilty the last two springs wondering if we were going to get any flowers.  (Note:  this draft was begun 12/6/2014  putting Luke at just over 3years old in the photo below.  My how things have changed! and yet stayed the same!)

 We've gratefully accepted the "leftovers" from our mothers and planted them without much plan.  This April I did sprinkle some seeds from packets I had accumulated over the last few years from Easter egg hunts or party favors.  I didn't have very high expectations and primarily did the deed to indulge Luke as he persistently questioned- What can I plant mom? What can I plant?  Mom, what can I plant?  

It took longer than I suspected for the characters of color to come through.  Which is probably my fault in not knowing what the "garden flower mix" seedlings would look like and dooming them to the fate of weeds.  From what others have told me the pink petals above belong to zinnias.  The sunflower never made it that tall probably due to the encounters with the weed whacker early on.  Luke was excited to harvest the seeds but we never got to as it seems some critter broke the thick stem prematurely.

These cosmos where interesting and delightful in how they spread and dawned their hearty stems in all directions.  Geraniums were quite pungent as I remember in my days of manning the plant department on the front sidewalk on Marc's.  Though I've never considered them especially pretty I do appreciate them for their uniqueness.  Perhaps that's the moral of the story...it's worth while to appreciate all of God's creation for its uniqueness, its intricacies, its character if not always its purpose.  Admittedly, I have not sought to explore the details of the flora and will likely learn of remedies, elixirs, and "hacks" of the avid gardener with a bit of study.

But for now I'll simply say... Thank you Lord for the birds and the bees...

The flowers and the trees...

And the many colors of the world.

Watermelon Smiles and Cauliflower Crust

Oh happy day!

If you haven't heard...Pete got THE job.  He is the new Director of Lay Ministry Formation for the Diocese of Youngstown.  Tomorrow marks his 2nd full week on the job.  We here Schafers are getting into the swing of things.  Luke is telling everyone he meets that he is starting preschool in the fall and is ecstatic about his new backpack and lunch packer dohickie thing.  He's not officially registered yet but we're on it!  The academic year will be underway soon at Walsh.  It's not as if I've had a summer off but there is a certain buzz or excitement surrounding the official beginning of the new semester.  More on possible opportunities/news/ventures later but for now I mainly wanted to share some very recent, up-to-date photos.

Don't worry.  Be happy.

[commence whistling]...

 

I tried this healthy, alternative pizza crust made up of cauliflower, egg, a little cheese and some spices.  It turned out well really.  You bake the crust for 15-20 minutes and it browns up nicely and then you add on your toppings.  I finished it with tomato sauce, a layer of spinach, just a bit more cheese, olives, green peppers, banana peppers (on half), and some seasoned chicken breast.  The finished product was tasty but truth be told we ended up ordering a pizza from Papa John's the same night.  Luke said with cheeks full of the commercial wares, " I LLite this pizza a yittle better than the other one."  He's been doing much better at enunciating his "L's" and gets the right pronunciation out about 70% of the time.  We're still working on the "C", "K" and "G" sound though.  Maybe by the time he starts preschool he'll actually be able to pronounce his name properly? ;-)

Other profound revelation came on Friday when we were at the library.  I was working with Luke on his letters and he was using a magnetic activity board where he had to move the letter into the designated spot.  As he was doing this I was going over sounds and words that began with that letter.  Of course the "M" and the "W" were right next to each other waiting to be sorted.  As Luke moved the "W" to it's appropriate location he says, "Hey! "W"!  That starts with "D"! The gears in my head ground and perhaps a puff of smoke escaped my ears as I chuckled and affirmed his (and my) discovery. There you have it folks.  http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/double-u

May God bless you and all you encounter this week.  The light of Christ shines through you and your smile -even a watermelon smile!

 

 

The scoop.

In a desperate attempt to keep myself away from the refrigerator and the cupboards I thought I'd keep myself busy with blogging.  What-do-ya-know the draft I pulled up is laden with pictures of food- glorious food.  To be frank, this was the second draft I clicked on having discovered that I had two labeled as "Clement Time" for some reason.  Convinced that the subject of our newly 1 year old, third son was too deep to tackle right now I chose the draft without the exclamation point to achieve publication.  And so, here we have it.

I'm stressed. Here we are months after Pete (and I) decided that he would not be signing his contract at Hoban for the upcoming year and we are still waiting to know what the future has to hold by way of employment.  Truth be known an opportunity arose in the Diocese of Youngstown.  Pete got called in for an interview, thought it went well but has yet to hear the outcome weeks later.  I've been putting off applying for jobs myself.  I don't really want to go back full time, but I will to provide for the family, get health coverage and give Pete the opportunity to focus on finishing his dissertation.  I keep going back and forth.  I miss science but I don't want to miss out on my kids.  Luke's getting geared up for pre-school at least,  maybe me taking post in a Catholic grade school would be a pretty good gig in handling those tuition payments?  My license will expire in June of 2016 so it's nice at this point I could get back into the field without doing a bunch of extra work before the academic year would start.  Then again, I don't want to send out all my info if I'm not really available.  The clock is ticking.  Benefits run out on July 31st.  One of us ought to have something secured by then. St. Cajetan, pray for us.

I miss Pete. He'll be home soon.  Likely before I complete the post.  I've been "kicking him out" (ah-hem...I mean encouraging him) to work on his dissertation like it was a full time job.  Because...well...it is.  Since the plan is to walk the stage in May 2016 with the doctoral degree in hand he best be getting his boogie on particularly if adding in the learning curve of a new job.

And, despite my three young charges and plenty of responsibilities I'm floundering to find how best to stay occupied.  Eating can tend to be the "go to" activity.

I'm not hungry.

I'm not hungry.

Really.

I'm NOT Hungry. 

Homemade Pita Bread

Homemade baked falafel

Warm Eggplant dip

All dressed up with homemade tzatziki, tomatoes, olives, pepperoncini and feta



Clement says "mmm" (In reality he's only about 3 months old in this photo not quite on the solids) 

Stuffed Zucchini to deal with the squash explosion of last year's harvest (Don't worry- this was a whole different meal than the falafel)

A-dust-tin "yicking" the beater from brownies

Mexican seasoned venison burger grilled on an English muffin (pumpkin one actually) topped with avocado, cheddar cheese, and salsa with a side of swiss chard.

Clement's first crack at solids (age 3.75 months).  On the menu: Applesauce and oatmeal. Verdict: he loved it (much more than the ball of play-doh he just popped into his mouth- I'll be back)

Are you hungry?

Please pray for us.  For patience, understanding, and openness to the will of God and how best we are called to serve Him and care for our family. Although not especially relevant, I'm including the responsorial psalm from Sunday's Mass that's been stuck in my head and has sprung forth from my lips numerous times today.

If today, if today, you hear the voice of God,
Open up your heart. Listen to His voice.
If today, if today, you hear the voice of God,
Harden not your heart. Harden not your heart.