Somebody's Watching Me

Yesterday in church the speakers talked about following the Prophet. One speaker talked about when the women of the church were asked to only have one earring in each ear. As soon as she said that Peter turned toward me, leaned a little so he could see both my ears, gave a quick nod, and said, "Good."

There are two things about his reaction that make me happy. The first is that he was listening! We spend a great deal of time during Sacrament Meeting helping the boys to be still and at least face forward. Most of the time I'm pretty sure that their minds are elsewhere. But yesterday, Peter was definitely paying attention, which means he probably listens more than I give him credit for.

The second is that Peter understands that it's important to be obedient to the things the Prophet has asked us to do. He was checking up on me, making sure that I was doing the very thing that I've told him to do: obey. In that moment I was especially thankful for the choice that I made long ago to follow the Prophet.

A Chicken In Every Pot (Pie)

I've cooked three dinners this week. One was fantastic, one was adequate, and one was kind of gross.

The adequate dinner was peach pancakes. I over-mixed them and they ended up kind of tough. For someone that makes pancakes as often as I do, I should have known better.

The gross dinner was porcupine meatballs. We have two recipes: one out of a cookbook and one that Bryan's mom taught me. I trade off which one I make. This time it came from the cookbook. The meatballs didn't hold together, so it turned into porcupine meat sauce. I'm not sure why it tasted so awful, but I do know that I'm going to use Bryan's mom's recipe more often from now on.

The fantastic dinner was chicken pot pie and it was so very good. I had two recipes that I couldn't choose between, so I used bits and pieces of both. It is for that reason that I'm writing this post. I want to remember what I did to produce such yumminess. And Bryan and I had a kind of post-mortem and discussed what could be done next time to make it even better.

Chicken Pot Pie

Combine:

• 2 cups chicken (I only used 1 cup and shredded it, but I think following the original recipe and using 2 cups would be better. And don't shred it, the chicken disappeared into the sauce just a little too much.)
• 2 cups California blend vegetables, cooked till al dente (I used 1 1/2 cups, but more would be better.)
• 1 cup of cooked (not mushy) potato, diced (One medium-sized potato was plenty.)

In a saucepan:

• Melt 1/4 cup butter and add the following:
• 1/3 cup flour
• 1/2 tsp salt (I think I'll add a little more next time.)
• 1/4 tsp thyme (The recipe called for sage. I didn't have any, so I used thyme.)
• 1/4 tsp rosemary
• 1/8 tsp pepper
• 1/2 dash (Does that make sense?) garlic powder
• 3 cups milk

Stir contents of saucepan over medium heat until sauce thickens. Be patient, it might take a while. Pour sauce over chicken and vegetable mixture, stir till evenly coated. Pour that into a 9-inch pie crust. Top with a second pie crust. Seal the edges and add a few slits to the top.

Bake at 425 degrees for 20 minutes with a layer of aluminum foil around the edges of the pie. Remove the foil and bake for an additional 15 minutes.

Let cool, while basking in the delightful aromas wafting from your kitchen.

The Last Thing

This morning I gave Peter the task of emptying a large diaper box that the boys had filled with toys. He and the box were in the closet while Cooper and I were winding up the vacuum cord. I was surprised when he announced that he had finished quickly after starting the project.

Peter: (exiting the closet, holding a rogue bathtub toy that had ended up in the box) Whew, the very last thing is to put the boat away. (He puts the boat in the bathroom and returns.) The very, VERY last thing is to do everything else.

Pesky everything else...

Yo-Ho, Yo-Ho

It's P Week at our house. So far we've eaten peach pancakes and made pumpkin muffins, met with some neighborhood friends to listen to a police officer talk about safety, and repeatedly practiced the sound that P makes.

And on Monday, we were pirates.

We found our best pirate clothes.

We carried swords.

We sailed in our pirate ship.

We even had a treasure hunt. It was a treacherous search through a jungle forest, across a wide lake, and over a snowy mountain, but fear not, we triumphed.

TV as Preschool

We watched a lot of TV last week. A LOT. Way more than I was comfortable with, but because we were all so very sick, there wasn't much else we could do. While checking to see what kid friendly shows would be coming on when, I discovered that we get Nick Jr.

Nick Jr. shows Franklin.

We switched from PBS and Disney Channel to Nick Jr. on Friday. Peter spent some time explaining to me how and why Franklin got into the television. There were other shows the boys enjoyed as well, such as Toot and Puddle, Little Bear, Olivia, basically all the shows that were based on literature.

They did NOT like Yo Gabba Gabba.

One thing that I thought was interesting about Nick Jr. was their slogan: It's like Preschool on Television. As first I appreciated the educational focus and the puzzles that popped up during commercial breaks. Then it occurred to me, "I bet there are parents that plop their children in front of the TV for hours at a time thinking that it's great because it's 'just like Preschool'."

And that's when I turned off the TV.

Finding Balance

I've been feeling off balance lately. Do you know that feeling? Like there aren't enough hours in the day for me to do everything that I've committed to do, or everything that's expected of me. It's kind of the same feeling I get when Bryan, Peter, and Cooper are all talking to me at once, with Phoebe singing or babbling in the background, and each of them expecting me to be able to comprehend what they're saying and answer intelligently. (Well, maybe Phoebe doesn't expect that.) My brain simply cannot go in that many directions at once.

At least one of those things is something that I should be doing. Our Bishop has asked each of the adults in our ward to have an "Hour of Power." That means he wants each of us to study the gospel (scriptures, lessons for Sunday, General Conference talks, church magazines) for an hour everyday. I told him I thought that was a wonderful thing, but I had one question.

How?

Where was that hour going to come from? Which child was I going to ignore in order to have an hour to focus on the scriptures? He talked about reading fewer blogs, watching less TV, and maybe giving up some sleep. I actually laughed out loud when he said the part about sleep, then quickly covered my mouth and apologized.

See, I'm pretty much maxed out as far as how much sleep I can give up. Any less and I won't be functional. And I don't really watch TV as it is, just a few things when I'm up in the middle of the night feeding Phoebe and too bleary eyed to read. And I've trimmed the blogs that I read.

But I want to be obedient, so the hour has been coming from other places. I realized early on that I can't do sixty minutes all in a row, it's simply not feasible. So I catch a few minutes here and there wherever I can. I read my scriptures on my phone because I can carry them with me and read while I tidy up or while I'm playing with the boys.

It's still been really stressful trying to get that hour done though. Isn't that awful? Shouldn't reading Gospel materials for so long each day bring me an added measure of peace? Actually, I'm sure it would if I weren't so focused on the clock. And it would be nice if I had time to read other books, but I don't. Nope, apparently I can only eek out one hour a day to read, and that is all.

Today Peter had a computer day. He only gets to use it once or twice a week. As he played games on pbskids, I sat and fed Phoebe (Cooper was napping) and tried to read my scriptures. I got twenty-six minutes in before she was done eating and wanted to play.

I'm always amazed at children that don't want their parents' constant attention. Sure, mine can go for stretches without saying "Mommy, look!" but it's only a few minutes at a time. And I do love playing with them, and Phoebe is so sweet and such a happy smiley baby, I love looking into her sparkly blue eyes and doing things to make her laugh. But I feel like I can't spend all of my time playing, that I need to clean and cook and keep the boys from throwing toys at the other one's head. Yeah, this is definitely another aspect of feeling off balance.

I had the thought that maybe lds.org had audio versions of the articles from the Ensign. Turns out they do. I spent the remainder of my hour listening to these articles, and laughing and talking to and playing with Phoebe. I would pause the recording when Peter had questions, then start it back up.

It was an answer to prayer.

There are other areas that I'm still off-kilter on. Lots of areas. But, at least for today, I found a happy balance between being a good mom and being spiritually fed.

The Other Shoe Dropped

I almost forgot to post today. You'd think that after two years a habit would be ingrained, but apparently not. Or maybe it's because today has been very... odd.

You see, Cooper's Tuesday illness hit the rest of us within a space of fours hours. It picked us off one at a time. First me, then Bryan, then Peter, then Phoebe. While it was awful for the bigger people (and it was), we were mostly concerned about Phoebe. She surprised us by handling it better than anyone. She seemed to understand that she couldn't eat and didn't even ask to nurse, a highly unusual thing for our girl that loves to eat. And while she was clearly in pain when she threw-up, she went back to sleep easily each time.

Not much sleeping happened for me or Bryan or Peter, at least, not more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time. Maybe that's why I almost forgot to post: today just feels like an extension of yesterday.

We're on the mend now, although we've all been left with extreme body aches and wicked (not awesome) headaches. And poor Cooper. Because he was sick and recovered before anyone else he had lots of happy, two-year-old energy today and absolutely no one to play with. I gathered the strength in the evening to sit and read to him, but he was more interested in jumping on my bed and running around my room. Funny how not eating food for twenty-four hours (and still being responsible for another person's nutritional needs) can leave you a bit low on energy.

Hand Talk

Um... wow. I used to practice tap routines with my hands during class, but I never did anything like this.

Paige, thanks for sharing this.

When Stomachs Attack

Here are my top three least favorite things about having a sick child:

1. Watching helplessly while they suffer
2. Cleaning up after whatever the current illness spews out
3. Waiting and wondering if anyone else is going to get the illness and how long this one is going to stick around

We had a fun morning yesterday with friends. We went to a local Fire Station and got a tour, then went and ate lunch with the same crowd. We'd been home for a few hours when I glanced over at Cooper and thought he looked a little odd. And that's when the fountain of vomit rained forth from his lips. (My apologies to those with a weak stomach.)

I had been about to feed Phoebe when this happened. I quickly changed gears. Phoebe went into her baby rocking chair (which Peter had brought into the bathroom for me, bless him), Cooper went into the tub, and Peter was sent to turn on a movie for Cooper to watch when he was done being hosed down. Cooper actually had three baths yesterday. We discovered he has a strong aversion to throwing-up in a bowl and much prefers to use his front and the surrounding carpet and couch as a vomit receptacle.

Our washing machine was continually employed throughout the afternoon and evening.

The poor little guy couldn't eat or drink anything and finally went to sleep for the night around two in the morning. Bryan stayed up with him and then got up twice more during the night to help him. I appreciated that since I needed to help Phoebe during the night.

Cooper woke up this morning smiling, his usual, bouncy self. He ate saltines and drank fizzy stuff and generally behaved as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened yesterday. I'm still waiting on number three on my list. No one else has gotten sick, but I'm not sure if it's too soon to declare an all-clear. Perhaps it was food poisoning from our fast-food lunch? That would explain why no one else was plagued. Except that Peter and Cooper ate the exact same meal.

Whatever caused it, I'm glad that Cooper is better.

Fill 'Er Up

Peter: (flopping onto my bed after a long day at Ikea) Mom, I need to have a little rest.

Me: Are you all out of energy?

Peter: (thinking) Mom, do you know why I have 100 gallons of energy?

Me: Why?

Peter: It's so I can do whatever I want, all the time.

Me: Well, what happened to your energy today?

Peter: (with a "well-isn't-it-obvious" tone of voice) Mom, it fills up in the morning and is empty at night.

I could definitely use 100 gallons of energy.