Beeting Myself Up

          Last week, I made homemade smoothies for the kids when they came in from playing in the snow. We were a little low on frozen fruit, but I used the rest of the frozen strawberries and part of a bag of frozen cherries. I like to sweeten things naturally, so I keep 100% fruit juice concentrate in a jar (in the refrigerator) to use for smoothies, sweetenen yogurt, or have some gelatin with (oh, my aching joints). I poured in a good amount to help give the kids a vitamin boost and reduce the amount of sweetener that I'd need to make the smoothie more palatable. I store the juice in jars that my mom gave me filled with freezer jam (originally they contained various nut butters ). How resourceful of us to reuse glass jars, right? My mom grew up in a family of  nine, so no waste was allowed.  Her Amish large-family heritage still follows her today. She is still very frugal.
           I caught the drip of juice from the jar after pouring the juice into the blender. After sticking my finger in my mouth, I let out a yelp like you wouldn't believe and held the jar up to the light. Instead of the sweet tang of Cranberry Raspberry juice, I had gotten a suprising jolt of pickled beet juice. The color was almost a dead ringer for the juice. The night before, my mom had graciously put the left-overs from Christmas away. Instead of putting her yummy Amish red beets back into the jar she had canned them in, she had put them into one of the jars I reuse for concentrated fruit juice...and to make it even more confusing,  she put that jar right in front of the actual jar of fruit juice concentrate.
              Well, I decided to see if I could doctor the concoction to a state of edibility by adding actual juice, and honey. My mom and I added some cinnamon too. My oldest three had sample with spoons and declined it, but Gracie declared it good. My mom said it should be very healthy for us. "Vinegar is a digestant." I was very healthy that morning, along with my mom. After that, I proclaimed that all beet juice be forever housed on the top shelf of our refrigerator (three shelves removed from the fruit juice concentrate). We had a really good laugh about it, and then I made a smoothie for the rest of the girls with just frozen cherries.
             I still love to save money (my mommy's so proud), and a few years ago (after many, many requests from my hubby) I started cutting Charles' hair. I started paying attention to the haircuts my girls were getting and took that over as well. It should come as no surprise that Mr. Blue Eyes had a trim from me too. Our son was beginning to look a little Peter Boyle-ish; so this past weekend, my hubby held him; and I snipped a few wisps. The final straw came yesterday when I searched Youtube for a video to cut my own hair. Guess what? My hair came out lovely. (Here's the video in case your curious.) Do you realize how much money this saves us? My hubby averages one haircut every four-six weeks. Our girls get haircuts about once a season. This saves us more than $700 dollars a year if you figure out $20 a cut plus tip.
                 For the record, I will not continue to add "digestant" to our smoothies, but I am encouraged to continue making economical changes to our lifestyles. I have a lot to live up to if I want to emulate the ideal woman of the Bible (Proverbs 31 lays it all out...). I'll just content myself with asking God to work through me and not "beet" myself up about the rest.

The Spinmaster

           Remember the mother of nine that inspired me to run during pregnancy? Guess what she does when she's done running in her third trimester? She does spinning classes. I have not followed in her stead. I know about the awesome cardio workout you can get from riding your bike, but that's not what this post is about. Life can be hard, and it is easy to focus on the negative in a situation.  There are moments, days or, yes, in this case, even weeks that are full of despairing thoughts to fight. With God's help, you can spin your thoughts in a positive dirrection. That's the kind of spinning I'm talking about.

          I thought about naming this post "When It Rains, It Pours" because the last week and a half have felt a lot like one big storm in motherhood. Mr. Blue Eyes has brought in a new tooth during all this hoopla, evening out his adorable six-tooth grin. He had his first ear infection three weeks ago and started coughing just a few days after getting off antibiotics. His follow-up appointment for his ears (at the two week post-antibiotic mark) brought a few suprises. After five kids, I've never had a practioner tell me my baby's lungs sound congested. They've always assured me that it sounds bad, but it's really just an upper respiratory issue. That wasn't the case this time. What started as a routine appointment quickly escalated to deep suctioning (not the endo-trachial kind--they stopped at his mouth) and a nebulizer treatment.  Just for the record, I will not be consenting to another session of deep suctioning unless my child was really, really ill (like on the brink of hospitalization). At the beginning of the nebulizer treatment, the nurse told me  to "get ready for the screaming". Confused as to why, I asked if it hurt to which she replied,  "No, they just don't like it." Very reassuring. Very. During the screaming session, another nurse came in to inform me that he needed a chest x-ray. She wanted know where I wanted the order sent to. The heat in body raised at least two degrees at this point, and I felt my body transform into a big hairy mama bear.  I worked as an x-ray tech for over seven years, and I know a thing or two about x-rays (and children...and the increased risks of cancer later in life when they have an x-ray under the age of seven). I refused the exam, which they wanted to perform to see whether or not he had pneumonia. He had no fever. He was eating and acting normally. He only had a cough. I didn't think his situation required that much intervention.  I was so shaken by the time we left that I called my old pediatrician's office for a second opinion (of course, my shakiness may have been induced from all the Albuterol I inhaled while holding the mask onto my son's screaming face).  The office validated my concerns; and the next day, I discussed them with the nurse manager (after making sure it wouldn't be an issue to return the nebulizer they sold me...the second-hand one I had from my sister-in-law ended up working just fine). I've worked with enough doctors to know that there is a wide variety of acceptable treatments for the same issue. Some physicians are aggressive,  while others are more conservative.  Which one do I favor? I favor the one with enough experience to know what is called for. My old pediatrician had lots of experience to back his approach. This new practitioner was less experienced and too aggressive for me.
           This was just the tip of the iceberg with our fun...the thunderstorm was a brewin'. Mr. Blue Eyes threw up on me the next morning, which meant an impromptu shower. Half-pint, our nine year old, had such severe back pain that she couldn't get her jacket on to do chores without crying. Our schedule for the day quickly filled up. We saw a chiropractor in the morning (for Half-pint) that was 40 minutes north of us. Then, we traveled 40 minutes south for the baby's appointment with a different pediatrician at the same practice. Mr. Blue Eyes wasn't any worse at his appointment; so I was told we only needed to come back IF he ran a fever or was having problems breathing.  That night he threw up again and started running a fever. Ugh! We went back again for antibiotics because they diagnosed him with pneumonia, due to the fever (and how it started...all without needing a chest x-ray, the bear gave her seal of approval on that one). We only needed to return if the fever didn't  go away in two more days. He continued to toss his cookies once each night AND run a fever for three more days (yes, that meant another doctor's visit). His sister Carrie went sledding on day two of antibiotics and ran into a fence. She saw stars, got dizzy and had blurry vision. After getting the baby down for his nap, I held Carrie; and she complained that her head hurt. The next thing I knew, I was wearing her granola bar. She threw up all over me, herself, the couch,  and a misplaced comforter. (That prompted my second shower of the day...I felt really tired last week, but squeaky clean.) After a phone conversation with the doctor's office, we found out we didn't have to race to the emergency room unless she threw up again; but I would need to sleep in the same room as her for two days to observe her. Nothing says "Happy Holidays" like sleeping in a double bed between a thrashing three-year-old and five-year-old. Fortunately,  I was too tired from all the late night fiasco's (i.e. "puke clean-up") to care.
           Then, Mr. Blue Eyes began to get diarrhea from the antibiotics, which caused a huge diaper rash. I switched to cotton balls with water for cleaning him (along with some air-drying and lots of diaper rash cream) The following day, I found myself in the doctor's office getting peed on by our son while trying to "fan the fannie".  (This was office visit #4, due to his extended fever.) The doctor walked in on me cleaning the floor and let out an empathic groan when she saw my wet jeans. It was a little cold on the drive home. After that I made sure to use a diaper as a pee deflector, when I let him stand and air dry. On the way to the doctor's office, I also added a crease to the side of the van. Chalk it all up to some fishtailin' on a snow-covered road and less than expert driving. It wasn't my best day, and it ended with a bang...literally.  I bought some peppermint stick ice cream, which goes perfectly with coffee. However, when I went to make the second round of hot water for my French press, I turned the wrong burner on our stove...one occupied by. 9 x 13 pyrex container. Miraculously, my hubby saw the Pyrex pan heating up and turned off the burner,  just before it exploded. I believe it was God appointed that he saw it at the moment he did. Three of our children were on the floor in front of the stove. His body must've blocked the shards of glass because no one had so much as a scratch on them although there were pieces of glass everywhere.
            Did we survive this all? Yes. Do we have some funny (and not so funny) memories from it? Of course. Through it all, I kept thinking,  "This could be worse. You could be at the hospital.  You could have five children sick, instead of one or two. You could've totalled the van. Someone could've gotten cut (or worse, blinded) from that glass." The day our appointment at the doctor's office got out of hand, a friend I deeply admire (Jill Savage) was undergoing a lumpectomy after a diagnosis of breast cancer just a few weeks beforehand. As the reminders chimed on my phone, reminding me to offer up a prayer for her, I thought ,"Thank God, I'm not dealing with this."  I wasn't alone in any of this either storm either. My hubby raced home to help transport little Miss Concussion if needed and rearranged his schedule to help me. My mom was helping me this past week too. My sister-in-law helped with my kids during doctor appointments and errand running. My small group instantly offered prayers when I messaged them about the drama concerning the concussion and my crazy office visits. Most of all, God was there with me each step of the way with wisdom, comfort and strength to get through this. All you have to do is cry out to Him, and then intentionally dwell on His blessings.
            Despite all the showers of negative things that happened in the last week and a half (that prompted one very used bathroom), there were even more things to be thankful for. It's easy to take our health and safety for granted until we see how easily it could all change. This holiday season has helped me spend time thanking God for all we do have, even as Gracie has now succumbed to a sickness and is running a fever. She is the only sick one right now, and I'm so thankful that no vomit is involved. My mom remained healthy through her visit and kept our house from being overrun by the dust bunnies. 

          Psalm 34:1-9 holds my thoughts to dwell on right now. It is how I will spin my wheels. It says," I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul shall make its boast in the Lord; the humble shall hear of it and be glad. Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together. I sought the Lord, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. They looked to Him and were radiant, and their faces were not ashamed. This poor man cried out, and the Lord heard him, And saved him out of all his troubles. The angel[a] of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him, and delivers them. Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who trusts in Him! Oh, fear the Lord, you His saints! There is no want to those who fear Him." 

         On Christmas day, our cat, Sierra, came home after not seeing her for eleven days. I never thought I'd see her again. My hubby deep fried a turkey for Christmas,  and apparently her hatred for the kittens wasn't deep enough to dissuade her from checking for some scraps. She was found sniffing the cooling peanut oil. We took turns loving on her, and she relished the new cat digs my hubby had set up (complete with a heating lamp, fuzzy cat bed, and heated water bowl). She is even allowing one of the kittens on the bed with her after a few days of hissing at them. Maybe she's been listening to me when I've said, "It could be worse. You could be sharing your bed with a dog." It's all in how you spin it.

Having Chickens Has Made Me a Better Parent

           Some of you reading the title of this post might be thinking, "Yeah, right!?". However,  I had this epiphany earlier this week, and I just had to share it in case you are on the fence about getting chickens? Watch my strong logic on this one (I've been taking notes from the "Mind Bender" books that Mary has been reading).
           Earlier this week, Carrie knocked over a just-opened box of Raisin Bran onto the floor. I felt the heat a-risin' in my blood, and I heard my voice crescendo into a "Caaaaa-rie...". Then, the thought smacked me in the face, "the chickens are going to love all this fiber". I stopped mid-rant and realized that I no longer had to lecture or feel guilty over wasted food. Now that we have chickens, all our food scraps are recycled into delicious eggs. (Harley, our dog, would love to help, but his tummy is a bit dicey.) The chicken's scavenging ways stopped me dead in my yelling tracks.
         Not only have the chickens helped me yell less, they have also been invaluable teaching tools. They've helped answer many questions like, "Where do eggs come from?", "How do chickens bathe?", or "Who will rule the barnyard: a 90lb. dog, four cunning cats, five pecking hens, or two mallard ducks?"  My personal favorite question they have answered is "What will teach our children a strong work ethic?" The chickens have shown my girls the need for persistent care. It may be single digits outside,  but they need fresh water maintaned, eggs gathered,  and fresh bedding laid down. The hens don't sleep in or forget what their job is (although I do give the girls one morning off-everyone deserves a Sabbath).  The hens are teaching them endurance (with a few choice words from me about getting to work). Another parenting goal is closer to completion.
            My final point regarding my parental improvement is the nutritional value of our eggs. One article from the Harvard Medical School (seems like a repudible source) states, " Eggs are a good source of nutrients. One egg contains 6 grams of protein and some healthful unsaturated fats. Eggs are also a good source of choline, which has been linked with preserving memory, and lutein and zeaxanthin, which may protect against vision loss." Look at me protecting my children's memory and vision. (Of course, this could backfire someday if they remember all my scolding when they are making decisions on my nursing home residence. Also, this might be an issue if their vision is so good that they see my giant dust bunnies and turn me into the health department.) Look at the other info listed about choline (from the "Incredible Egg" website): Egg yolks are an excellent source of choline, an essential nutrient that contributes to fetal brain development and helps prevent birth defects. Two eggs provide about 250 milligrams of choline, or roughly half of the recommended daily intake for pregnant and breastfeeding women. Who wouldn't want eggs (unless, of course, you are allergic to them)?

I rest my case. Charles and Half-pint may have given us chickens, but they have been the gift that keeps on giving. Maybe they'd make a lovely Christmas present for the person who has everything...
        

Breaking the Ice for "Neiiigh"bors

          Eventually,  Eagle's owner declined our offer to take on their horse and took him home.his last week,  we had the pleasure of meeting a couple more of our neighbors due to the escape of a couple of animals: Harley and Eagle. Harley d enjoyed the freedom of our front yard and much of the backyard till he decided to take a stroll onto the side road and into our neighbor's yard. They detained him in a fenced area till we could bring him home. If I hadn't been so frustrated with him at the time, I would've probably laughed. He danced back and forth just out of their reach. Harley will not let himself be touched by a strang.we found this out a couple of years ago when he pursued a cat onto a major highway but evaded any would-be rescuers. After introductions with our neighbor, Harley was put in doggy time out and has since been confined to a generous chain-link fenced area behind our house. He still looks with longing at the ducks and chicken area that he used to run free in. He's still in the doghouse as far as I'm concerned though.
          The second animal capture of the week was a little bigger deal as it involved a larger animal: a horse. When we first moved in, two horses lived in our east pasture area. The owners were busy preparing a permanent space on their land for them, and we patiently waited. After all, the owners just live across the road and two houses down. We wanted to be neighborly. Eventually as it became cold, Charles asked them to kindly collect their animals. Keeping drinkable water for our current pets is more than enough of a challenge for us right now. The horses were collected just before Thanksgiving. Last week,  their horse, Eagle, escaped. Its comrade Ray is in horse rehab, and he must've decided to look for him back at the old stomping grounds. A different neighbor brought him off the road to our fenced in area, concerned that he might get hurt and was unsure if we were keeping the horse for the owner or not. Charles contacted the owner; and after a couple of days of waiting,  we began toying with the idea of keeping him. Clearly the current owner is rather busy, or else the horse would've been collected sooner. Later, we found out he was busy constructing a lean-to. The idea of having a horse had begun to grow on me, as we went out several times a day to break the ice that had formed in the Rubbermaid bin (that held his water temporarily). I've learned that I get attached to animals very easily,  so I never really talked to our guest until we considered keeping him. I know very little about horses; but since another neighbor has grown up caring for horses all her life, I spent some time chatting with her about what we had offered to take on. I found out just how much these neighbors had been watching me. The horse owning neighbor had even noticed the way Eagle and Ray had been eating the bale of hay that a friend had put into their enclosure for us. Being around her reminded me to pay close attention to my words. I have a brand new start here with new people, but just a few words can sour the whole thing. This morning's devotional from "Whispers of Hope" included this scripture: "The words of a whisperer or slanderer are like dainty morsels or words of sport [to some, but to others are like deadly wounds]; and they go down into the innermost parts of the body [or a victim's nature]." (Prov. 26:22-Amplified Version) I need to watch what I say...a LOT!

         Animals take a lot of care and attention; but if it weren't for the two escapees, I may have still been in the dark about our animal lovin' neighbors. Is this part of why God put them on our planet? Are animals the ultimate icebreaker? Eventually, Eagle's owner turned us down and collected their horse. I don't see a ranch anytime in our near future,  but I will continue to break the ice with our animal loving neighbors...maybe instead of Christmas cookies, I'll take over some homemade treats for their animals.

           How are you breaking the ice this holiday season?  Are you like me, in need of a little lip-guarding? Let me know and we can pray for each other, for boldness sprinkled with kindness.