I Will Get It

Ahhh. . .such baby resourcefulness!

Watermelon Love

In season fruit. One of life's little joys. There is something exhilarating about rejecting California strawberries for strawberries from a farm a mile down the road. Or the squash, cherries, and blueberries from the farmer at the downtown farmer's market. Nothing quite like shunning the supermarket.

Abigail finds such deliciousness irresistible! There is always more room in her belly for fruity yummies.

After devouring the strawberries and the sweet cherries, she has discovered the watermelon. (I know not yet in Michigan season, but I couldn't keep myself from getting one from the store the other day.) She is so enamored with watermelon that she finds herself wherever it is.

Willing to risk life and limb to devour the red watery sweetness. As I slice into the watermelon to create a bowl of chunked desert. Abigail pushes her stool into position at the counter. As I cut the rind away, she climbs to the top; her little head above the counter and hands poised to snatch the watermelon before it makes in into the bowl. I make the vertical slices and hear, "Num, num, num," chanted in anticipation. I make the horizontal slice and the hands begin their journey toward the nearest chunk as little feet begin their food dance. And she has it!! or them. To her mouth as fast as she can carry it. Watermelon juice coursing down her chin and onto her shirt, dripping off her elbows as she reaches in for more. 2-3-4 chunks down before the slice is in the bowl!

The next slice and we start again.

Ahh. The watermelon now rests in the bowl. Moved out of Num-Num's reach. The round redness no longer protected by green rind lies in chunks ready to be eaten. I turn around for the dish rag and hear a suspicious scooting noise. I look to find that Abigail has hooked the bowl of melon and is dragging it to her. Before I know it she has reached in and pulled out watermelon. In her mouth it goes. A big smile washes over her face and out comes "Mmmmm" and watermelon juice dribbles down her chin and to the floor.

I laugh. After all, watermelon is chalk full of good stuff for her and if a puddle of watermelon juice is the grossest thing I have to clean up, I've got it made!

An Appointed Time

There is an appointed time for everything.

And there is a time for every event under heaven--
A time to give birth, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to tear down, and a time to build up.
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones, and a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace, and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search, and a time to give up as lost;
A time to keep, and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart, and a time to sew together;
A time to be silent, and a time to speak.
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time for war, and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

How often I ask the Lord to hurry up and give me my heart's desire and in the next breath ask the Lord to slow down and allow me to prepare. As we continue to look into adoption, I so struggle to give my life over to the Lord's time. This is another day and another opportunity to resolve to seek God's will for our family in His time, learning patience and perseverance, and learning the art of taking the anxious waiting to Him in prayer trading worry for the peace that passes understanding.

Self-Cleaning

Yesterday, I found myself curled up on the couch bemoaning the fact that as soon as I finish cleaning something somehow it is dirtied. Sometimes it is Twiddlepants the Toddler hoarding and carrying her graham cracker snack around the house. A graham cracker crumbles quiet easily in the hands of Twiddlepants the Toddler. Sometimes it is the husband coming home from Lowes and leaving the empty bag on the counter. And, yes, an honest blogger must admit that sometimes it is me putting too much stuff in the canister as I make smoothies with and immersion blender. Not the proper appliance to use if you are mass producing smoothies! Need a blender!

Today I thought I would clean my cast iron griddle really well. I read in a magazine at my mom's house that cleaning cast iron requires using your self-cleaning oven. Since the stench of burning food has begun to assault us as I bake, I thought today would be a good time to clean that griddle and that oven! It is the first time ever that I have used the self-clean cycle on any oven. (Why when the temperature today is to reach 90 degrees I don't know.) Perhaps because it is SELF-CLEANING. That means I can push a button and do what ever I want. No effort on my part!

Now it is done, though. I didn't know I would have an oven full of ashes. Or that evaporated gunk would come out the vent and settle out on the top of the oven door, or even worse, on the stove top that I just cleaned. Or that I would forget step too in the refurbishing of cast iron cookware.

Of course all of that will have to wait till the kitchen returns to a temperature I can clean in. And the oven must return to some semblance of normal temperature for me to want to remove the ash and I am currently convinced that the cast iron griddle will never return to room temperature! Alas.

10 Things I Know Now

1. Oatmeal sticks to wood floors with the tenacity of crazy glue and over time becomes sharpened to the point of becoming wheaponized.
2. Buying cushions for a $25 garage sale patio set (table and four chairs) will cost more than the patio set bought twice.
3. Family dining outside with Twiddlepants the Toddler reminds me that said cushions would not last a meal. (We don't purchase the cushions.)
4. Even a hose set to power spray can't remove sloppy joe from patio set. Now we have assigned seats.
5. I can't enjoy a meal if I am sitting where Twiddlepants the Toddler last sat. I see all the stains.
6. A tired, disagreeable toddler being carried away from the play structure at the park kicks ...hard.
7. Disciplining a kicking toddler at the park is hard.
8. God didn't give me Abigail because I had done something right in my life.
9. God gave me Abigail because God loves me.
10. God gave me Abigail because God wants to change me.

All My Friends. . .

should have a blog! Recently I replied to an email from a friend and then got a comment from another. I get so excited to get reacquainted! I just want to shout "Everyone should have a blog." Then I would always know what is going on with everyone I want to know about.

But, I started thinking (too much, I know) and I realized that the real reason I want everyone to have a blog is that it will make my life so much simpler. I could stay in touch, but there would be no real touch. Unless I posted a comment, which I occasionally do, I would just be looking into the lives of my friends. I would not truly be participating in in their lives. I would not be contributing to their lives.

I enjoy blogging. I like being able to share the things that happen in our lives and the things I think about with people I would not normally be able to share with. I think that is a good thing. I will keep blogging.

But, when I stop replying to email, or calling, or initiating any kind of personal contact with those I love claiming they can just read my blog, I become not a friend, but an exhibitionist. "Hey, look at what is happening in my life!. . . Oh, and tell me what you think about my life (by leaving a comment)." I am sorry to my blog readership, and especially to my friends, for my selfishness. I will strive to maintain personal contact with you and will use this blog to contribute to your lives.

Breakfast with Dog

So many things I want to share. So little time. Been thinking lately, hence no blogging. Will blog later about my thinking.

This morning, we got up and after morning cuddles and babbles, I set about making oatmeal. We have oatmeal daily, except Saturday as Chris can't bear oatmeal more than 5 days a week. While I make breakfast, Abigail wanders and plays and drinks her milk.

Today in her wandering she reconnected with Stuffed dog. I haven't seen Stuffed Dog in a few days and Abigail seemed happy to have found him.

As I was dishing out the oatmeal, I hear the frantic slaps of a barefoot toddler on hard floors on a mission. Chris says they sound like duck feet. I just have to see what she is up to. Plop, Thud. Stuffed Dog is sitting in the high chair, well more standing on his head than sitting, and the sippy cup of milk is on the tray. (Time to start setting the table, I think.)

After ousting Stuffed Dog, Abigail and I say grace. "Anen, Anen, Anen!" Food grabbing and face stuffing. Part way through breakfast, say half way finished with oatmeal, the pleading begins. She wants the stuffed dog to sit with her! I must remind you of the glue-like quality of oatmeal. But I comply and shove Stuffed Dog into the chair beside her.

Unhappy with that arrangement, Stuffed Dog comes out to sit on the tray and be fed oatmeal. I so wanted a picture, but, as always happens when the camera comes out, Stuffed Dog should received several slams off of the high chair tray flinging oatmeal out of the bowl.

Breakfast was over.

One Cause

Previously, I wrote about our desire to adopt. We are still praying about the where to adopt from and are saving for the expense involved in the process. Homestudies, visas, social services, agency and country fees all require outputs of cash. We are attempting to be creative in our own spending and saving.

In my research, I found an interesting website, or rather shopping opportunity. One Cause is a shopping site in which the merchants donate a portion of your purchase to the charity of your choice. They have partnered with the National Adoption Foundation which provides grants to adoptive parents. When you begin your shopping at One Cause, the merchant will donate to the NAF who will place 50% of that donation into a fund for our adoption.

So how can you help. You can shop for our second child! If you register and use One Cause you can designate that the merchants donation go into a fund for our adoption. When you register you will see a field called "Benefitting," type in my email address (loftsarahjones@yahoo.com). Then start shopping.

I'm not asking that you go into debt for us, but on the purchases you were planning, I would appreciate if you would check out this site.

Pirates

So the family went to the drive-in Sunday night. (I know I wasn't planning to go again, but Abigail is at least content when watching. And Sunday she was asleep by 10 right after the movie started.) We went to see Pirates of the Caribbean number 3.

I really enjoy the movies, but I have a serious beef with the movies, too. Jack Sparrow though a fun character to watch is NOT a hero. Everywhere I go Pirates paraphernalia fills aisles. Featured prominently is Jack Sparrow, hero. I just want to shout, "NOT A HERO!" so I share my complaint with you all. I thought about listing all the reasons Jack is not a hero, but if you see the movies, you can see why. And if you don't see the movies, you don't care.

I love the movies (hence, drive-in with a toddler), and can't wait till Abigail is old enough to watch them and talk about heroes and right and wrong. I think there are many good illustrations hidden in the story. Chris thinks I think too much and he is probably right. But, I think good stories, well-written and well-told, hold some of the Truth, even if unintentionally. It has something to do with the God-sized void in each of us. But I think to make the stories worth listen to is uncovering the Truth held therein.