Soups on!

Just before I got pregnant, I had planned a project to take on the world of homemade soups. I love soup. I love the comfort it provides on a hot day. I love the lightness of it for dinner. I love the wide variety of soups out there. However, I can't stand most store-bought soups. They are watery, tinny, or chalk full of sodium. And so I wanted to start making and freezing my own supply of homemade soups.

Then I got pregnant, sick, and then became a new mom again, and so the project was left on the back burner. But it's time to light the fire again. (Sorry for the terrible analogies!)

I've had three tries, and I can humbly admit, three excellent successes. The first was chicken noodle. We were all under the weather and wanted nothing more than the imaginary healing powers of chicken noodle soup. However we found the cupboard bare of this essential item. So mustering the strength that I had, I rummaged through our food and pulled out some chicken stock, pasta, a chicken breast and whatever leftover veggies I could find. Into a pot it all went, along with a little flour to thicken it up, and I left it to simmer. The result was a masterpiece!

The second and third attempts were from recipes, and both quite similar. One was a spiced carrot soup and the other was sweet potato soup. Both were spiced with cinnamon and ginger, and once again, both were a hit. A little bit of vanilla yogurt or sour cream added the final touch.

So I'm on the lookout now for easy homemade soup recipes. And when I say easy, I mean less than ten ingredients, made mostly from stuff that's usually around the house and cooked by throwing it all in a pot, letting it simmer, and then throwing it in a blender before serving (if necessary). Feel free to pass along any of your favs, or ask me for mine.

This project has certainly been a success. My plan for freezing leftovers hasn't amounted to much because the soups rarely last more than a day or two!

Is that silence I hear?

Well, there is the drone of the baby swing in the background, but otherwise, yes - it is silence! I am treasuring the few minutes I have been granted today. Colin is sleeping, and Caleb is lying content (content???!!!) in his swing, allowing me time to hear the thoughts in my head!

Lately I have been on the edge of insanity. Caleb has, what most call, an awful case of colic. He has one "long" sleep every 24 hours, and that only lasts 2.5 - 3 hours at most. Luckily it comes between midnight and four am, so at least I'm getting a little sleep. Otherwise he generally needs to be held upright to provide him some relief from whatever gastrointestinal problems are weighing his little body down.

Colin is taking the terrible twos to a new level. I have never subscribed to the "let him cry it out", but if I try to comfort him he only pushes me away and continues to scream at a level my ears have never been exposed to before. The other day he screamed for a full hour at the front door after James left for work.

But I just put Colin down for a nap, and as he clung for dear life around my neck while I sang him a few lullabies, I breathed in the scent of his hair and felt his warm cheek against my face. These are moments that will soon be gone and I can never have back with him. Before long he'll be too old to be held by his sentimental mother and I'll only have these times in my memory. It's almost enough to make me head back upstairs, wake him up and hold him a little longer. Almost.

And even though my heart aches that I cannot ease Caleb's pain, and my head hurts from his screaming, I know the next two years will fly by in a flash, and the two after that, and then two more...I don't know that in a house of boys I'll ever get much silence, but I'm learning to appreciate the noise filling it up.

In the Meantime

I sometimes wish I could peer in a window to other mothers' homes, just to see if they struggle as much as I do. Lately it seems as though nothing is getting done - I'm just in survival mode from one day to the next - or one minute to the next. My newborn eats every hour and a half and rarely sleeps more than half an hour at a time. While not sleeping or eating, he is usually crying if I'm not holding him. My two-year old is really trying out what it means to be a "terrible two". Today he threw a fit at my friends house as we were getting ready to go, refusing to put on his boots or jacket, and ended up being carried upside-down, boot-less, coat-less and screaming to the car. I can't seem too keep things off the floor, let alone get any cleaning done. And this is a 24 hour job I've signed up for.

I know how important being a mother is. I know that being home with my kids is the best thing I can do for them. I'm so thankful I'm able to be here for them whenever they need me. And as my list of "things I need to do but will never get done" grows infinitely, I try to remember a song a heard a few years back.

In the Meantime
In her heart she holds the dreams
She's carried since the day she turned 13
Of all that she would be when she was grown
Of all that she would do when she was finally on her own
She dreamed she'd fly
She's still waiting for the chance to try

But in the meantime she's a mother and a daughter and a wife
Doing all she can to stay above the daily grind
And she wonders when she'll ever have more meaning in her life
She doesn't know she's being molded and refined
In the meantime.

Someday she'll go back to school
When the carpools and the soccer games are through
'Cause deep inside she's still the girl
Who's always felt the fire to make a difference in the world
She dreams she'll soar
When she finally has the time to do more

But in the meantime she's a sister and a teacher and a friend
Hours turn into days that turn to years that never end
And she wonders when she'll ever really find herself again
She's becoming one on who God can depend
In the meantime

Heaven feels the joy of every victory in her life
And Heaven hears her heart before she cries
And somewhere in the middle of the triumphs and the trials
She's becoming sanctified

But in the meantime she's an answer and and a blessing and a gift
To every empty aching heart that only she can lift
Still she wonders if she'll ever get to see where heaven is
If she could only see her mansion waiting there
If she could only feel how much her Father cares
She would know she's being perfectly prepared
In the meantime.

Getting back up on the horse

Colin is so great at "getting back up on the horse". Yesterday he had climbed up onto a chair at the kitchen table to eat a snack. James and I were both at the table also, but the next thing we knew Colin was tumbling over head first to the floor. He hit with a loud SMACK and tears welled immediately. I ran to him to give him a hug and soothe his wails, and although he hugged back for a second, it wasn't even a minute after he'd fallen when he pushed away from me, turned around and climbed back up onto the chair. There was no way he was going to let that chair get the best of him! I was so proud.

Then today he had another spill off the chair. I was at his feet this time, and managed to half catch him on the way down to ease the fall. I waited to see how this second tumble might affect him - but our Colin is so resilient! There weren't even tears this time. He just picked himself up and climbed back up onto the chair.

Okay, I might not keep letting him back up on the chair without closer supervision - I don't want to tempt any broken bones just yet! But I am glad to see this determination showing through!

Gawthroupe tidbits

Today's entry is just a compilation of little things going on in our family...

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Today Colin sang me the entire first song of "The Impossible Dream"
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Caleb is now in the "Colic stage" and generally sleeps no more than 20 minutes at a time.
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Terri-Ann is gearing up for her choir performance next week.
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Colin is speaking in full sentences (sometimes).
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Caleb took his first bottle yesterday...there is some relief for me in sight!
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We celebrated Christmas with my side of the family on Saturday. It was our first extended car trip with both boys...and we took a new way home, with much help from our Ontario map.
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I started "holiday baking" today, although I'm still not completely sure what the point of holiday baking is. Everyone's been talking lately about how they need to get started on their holiday shopping and baking. We were never a baking family growing up. Nevertheless, today I made two loaves of banana bread.
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On the other hand, all my Christmas shopping is done and wrapped. I'm super excited this year because I really did well with shopping this year and I think everyone will really love what I found for them.
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We will be having a white Christmas in Orangeville this year!

Guilt and Grace

I've been thinking about this interesting contrast of concepts lately. Guilt and Grace. Within the world of religion, these are often the forefront ideas that will surface when talking about religious beliefs.

Guilt certainly has deep roots in Christianity. For hundreds of years, religious leaders have preyed on the fears of mankind, instilling deep feelings of guilt regarding our very existence. Men are made to feel guilt over their natural tendencies, unavoidable emotions, and personal circumstances. Perhaps guilt was meant to bring us to our knees amidst our growing hubris.

But personally, I don't think guilt has any place in one's spirituality. Guilt and fear are not emotions of God. They are dark, destructive ideas that can never lead to healing or light. All that is good comes from God - guilt is definitely not a productive feeling. I don't believe that guilt leads to a true change of heart. It may temporarily alter one's habits or behaviour, but it doesn't get you to the roots of what God's intentions are for you.

I also believe that guilt isn't an emotion another can make you feel. Guilt by definition is a personal emotion - you feel badly about your own actions. Another could try to point out why you should feel guilt, but only you can actually experience it.

Grace is the gift of God by which he extends mercy, loving-kindness, and salvation to people. I love this definition of grace. I may be undeserving of the gift, but I need not feel guilty about receiving it. As a parent, if I give a gift to my children, there is no expectation in return. I give it freely, simply because I love them. Grace means that I don't need to feel badly about my shortcomings. Grace means that I can daily work to better myself. Grace means that after everything has come to an end, and I still fall short (as all will), it's okay.

I think all too often those of us belonging to religious organizations get caught up in the appearance of things. How many service projects did we total this year? Did I attend all my meetings? Can I check off daily prayer and scripture study? Can I answer all the questions posed to me in Sunday School? Church is not a check list of activities - it's a place to find strength and come to know God. Not to know about him, but to truly know him. Although it's wonderful to be a part of a church family that supports you, ultimately your journey to God and his grace is one you take on your own. Until that is written on your heart, you're bound to get caught in the web of guilt and appearances.

I have friends with religious views that fall all over the map. Some attend religious organizations, others practice their faiths on their own. Some adhere to the tenets of Christianity, others to the doctrine of science. Belief is a personal journey that too often is swept aside in today's materialistic world. I cannot and dare not contend for other's beliefs - I have only the authority to discuss my own. I have found joy - true joy, not momentary happiness - in my own journey - a journey only just begun. I have discarded the chains of guilt and embraced the gift of grace.

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PS - I have been enjoying a beautiful rendition of the song "Amazing Grace" by Chris Tomlin lately that speaks of the beauty and peace of grace perfectly. Have a listen at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXV6HJxUebg

Beautiful Blanket of White

It's cold. Bitingly cold. The kind of cold that hits you in the face and sticks with you for hours. But it's beautiful. Having lived in Toronto for the past few years, and especially since we lived right on the lake, we saw very little snow. It was never a white Christmas, and only rarely did we have to deal with treacherous driving conditions. In Orangeville, we shoveled four times before December hit! We're now living in what is called the "Snow Belt", which means that we will get a good snow each time the weather turns. We love it.

I've never been an outdoor winter person. I never ski and rarely skate. I haven't been tobogganing since I was a teen. If I have to venture out, I'm wearing at least 4 layers of clothing, plus a parka, hat, scarf, gloves, boots - it takes me longer to dress than most kids! But it sure is beautiful to look out at from the warmth of my living room.

There is something magical about snow that sets the mood for this season. And I just think all the "suffering" might be worth it.

(Ask me again in three months what I think!)