I recently told you about our new budget. It's quite a challenge. A very depressing challenge, but also an exhilarating one at the same time. I was upset about it at first, but now my competitive side has kicked in and I'm ready to do this thing. Bring it.
So as i said, we have $300 that has to last the whole month, and includes every single purchase. I've been doing a lot of research on the internet about frugal living, and i found a mom-blog about "100 Days of Real Food on a Budget." This woman took a challenge to buy organic, healthy, whole foods for her family of 4 on a budget of $125 per week. (Unfortunately i don't have time right now to track down the link to her blog for you, but i'm sure you could google it if you are interested.)
She had $125 per week, i have $75. Her budget didn't include household items like diapers, toilet paper, paper towels, etc. Mine does. But then again she was buying organic food, whereas i am not.
The Professor and i know that we cannot make it through this season without the sheer grace of God. We believe that God brought us here, so we have to believe that He will provide for us. Like the Israelites, He didn't lead us out of Egypt just to starve in the desert.
Already we have seen answers to prayer. One night i prayed, "God, whatever the heck you do or don't do about me, please PLEASE provide for my BabyGirl." The next day i was getting the BabyGirl dressed to go to Toddler Story Time at the library, and her jeans, which were pretty tight a few days before, now didn't fit at all. I don't have any jeans in the next size for her. Those jeans were it. I thought, "Well, praise the Lord we have several pairs of fleece sweatpants that Granny sent; she'll just have to wear those all the time."
Wouldn't you know, THAT VERY AFTERNOON Granny called me from Old Navy. Said she was looking at boots and wanted to know the BabyGirl's size. "Oh, and they have some jeans here too, does she need jeans?" I immediately got teary-eyed with gratitude. God was providing for my BabyGirl.
Due to the aforementioned auto repair costs that ate up all our money, i had resolved not to buy any groceries this week. Nope, not going to do it. We would live off of whatever we had in our freezer and pantry. Fortunately i had a good amount of leftovers in the fridge, so it wasn't an impossible mission. And i'll tell you, if i was the kind of person who took pictures of their meals and blogged about it, we could all have quite a laugh because i have made some pretty dang creative meals this week. You would be amazed at what you can do when you have to. Also, you would be amazed at how outdated some of the things in your pantry are.
The one exception to the no-purchases-for-a-week rule was the BabyGirl's rice milk. She has to have it, and i didn't have enough on hand to last all week. So after Toddler Story Time at the library, we stopped by the store to buy three jugs of rice milk. We were really rushing to get home in time to feed her lunch and put her down for a nap before she turned into an ogre. We zoomed home, and i saw that the trash collection had come, so my garbage can and recycling bin were strewn all over the place. I wanted to go ahead and bring them in, but i can't carry the can\bin and the BabyGirl at the same time. I decided to leave her in the car in the garage for a minute so i could bring in the garbage can, then run back and bring in the recycling bin. It took about 45 seconds, but when i returned to the BabyGirl, she was crying because she'd been left all alone in the [creepy spider-infested] garage. I comforted her, assured her that i didn't leave for good, and took her inside for lunch.
The next morning as i was brushing my teeth, i realized that when we had gotten home i never got the milk out of the car. It was still in my trunk at that very minute. I was sooooo devastated. It was such a costly mistake. I could not believe that i had been such an idiot, and completely wasted THREE ENTIRE JUGS of milk. That milk was the only thing i was allowed to buy for the whole week, and it was gone. When money is so tight that every ounce of milk matters, the loss of three jugs is significant. I was so mad because it was my own stupidity, and there was no excuse for it.
So i had to put my tail between my legs and go right back to the store to buy milk for a second time. And where do i buy rice milk? At Walmart, of all places. A store the size of an entire African village. The worst place to quickly run in for 1 thing. The milk is on the back wall, which is a football field's length from the front door. We had to battle the Evil Aisle Blockers of America to get to the farthest corner of the store to obtain our milk. And then, wouldn't you know i had to get in line with the exact same cashier as yesterday? It was so humiliating. I tried to avoid eye contact so that he wouldn't recognize me. But the BabyGirl loves to push the buttons on the credit card machine, and when you press zero repeatedly it makes a very satisfying beeping sound, which she then imitates. Yesterday when we bought milk, she pressed buttons and made beeping noises while he very neatly bagged up our milk and put it in my cart for me. Again today, she made beeping noises while he neatly bagged up the milk and put it in the cart. Unfortunately, i'm pretty sure he remembered us and our beeping.
I drove home with the milk in my lap so that i wouldn't forget it this time. =]
Friday, October 21, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Neither Snow, Nor Rain, Nor Gloom of Night
One day last week, the BabyGirl forced me to take her on a walk.
We were playing outside, which is her #1 all-time favorite thing to do. We hadn't been out there very long when she went in the garage and started pulling at the stroller. Just the day before we'd had a playdate at a potential friend's house, and they had a little doll stroller that the BabyGirl LOVED. She pushed that doll stroller all over their house. So when she was yanking at the stroller, i thought she wanted to push it around. Granted, it is much more difficult for her to maneuver than a doll stroller, but she doesn't always think these kinds of things through.
I put the stroller out on the driveway for her to push around. She played with it for about 0.5 seconds and then started emphatically motioning toward the seat of the stroller. I said to her incredulously, "You want to get IN the stroller?"
The reason that i was incredulous is because we were currently playing outside. Usually, nothing trumps playing outside. I have never in her short little life seen her want to do anything else while she is playing outside. Playing outside is Optimus Prime, and nothing in the world matters while you are playing outside. Not mealtime, not naptime, not diaper changes, not thunderstorms, nothing. She will play outside regardless of the weather. I had a hard time believing that she wanted to get in the stroller.
Nonetheless, she ceased her whining when i posed her the question, so as a test i put her in the stroller, fully believing she would be very unhappy once she was in there.
She was not unhappy.
I thought to myself, "Great! I have a couple of things to do around the yard, and with you contained in the stroller i can actually do them." I pushed her over to a corner of the yard and started picking up some debris. She then began fussing and vehemently motioning to the back of the stroller. I said, "I knew it! You don't actually want to be in the stroller; you want to push it around."
I started unfastening the straps in order to take her out of the stroller; major protesting ensued. She was still pointing behind the stroller. I said (incredulously once again), "You want me to push you in the stroller?"
Finally, after this long game of charades, it dawned on me that she must want to go for a walk. I asked, "Walk??? You want to go for a walk?"
She exploded into happiness, smiled from ear to ear, and said, "Wok!"
I said, "Um, okay i guess. But i need to get my phone first." I ran inside to grab my phone and then we departed on our walk. About 2 minutes into it, i realized that i needed to go to the bathroom and if i'd been in charge, i also would have worn different shoes. The BabyGirl, however, had it made in the shade. She was relaxing in the comfort and convenience of the stroller, enjoying the blue sky and fresh air while leaving all the physical work to me. How sweet.
Yesterday she was at it again. It was late afternoon, and i was washing dishes. She put on her shoes, brought me her jacket, and said, "Outside!?!" It was veiled as a question but she intended it as more of a demand. The problem was that it was really cold outside. The jacket she had brought me wasn't going to cut it. I had not yet unpacked my winter outerwear. Somewhere in the deep recesses of the basement were boxes of stuff we hadn't gotten to yet, and my scarf\gloves\hat were in one of those boxes. I acquiesced to her request anyway, and bundled up the best i could, although it definitely wasn't sufficient. She had a brand new winter coat that had just arrived from Granny, so she was appropriately dressed and had nothing to worry about.
We went outside, and it was very unpleasant. Gray. Overcast. Cold. Not a soul was out there. Usually there are people out walking their dogs, and kids playing in their yards, but today the world was deserted. I said to her, "Don't you see how ridiculous this is? No one else is out here!"
She giggled and said with satisfaction, "Outside!"
Her facial expression seemed to say, "You were born in Georgia, so we all know that you are a pansy, but i was born in the Frozen Tundra, and this weather is nothing to me."
She took off running down the sidewalk. Usually she only goes to a certain point and then stops and turns around, but this time she ran all the way down the block. When we reached the intersection, she turned left and kept going. We were now in front of our backyard-neighbor's house. Does that make sense? The house whose backyard borders mine. Our backyard-neighbors have a beautiful garden. These people are real professionals. I've seen the house's inhabitants from a distance, but we hadn't met yet. It appeared to be an elderly lady and her grown daughter.
Well wouldn't you know, as we were running past their house, the elderly lady came out the front door! She was headed out for a walk too. We finally got the chance to meet each other. She was very friendly, and said that she enjoyed seeing the BabyGirl play outside. She said that we could come over anytime, and when the weather is nice the BabyGirl should come play in her yard.
The nice lady set out for her walk, and we turned around to run back towards our house. The BabyGirl and i continued to play outside for a while, until i was so cold that i couldn't take it anymore. I dragged her into the house kicking and screaming. Her cheeks were rudolf-red, her eyes were watering from the cold, and her nose was running, yet she still wanted to stay outside. She put up a fight as i took of her coat, and she put up a fight as i took of her shoes.
We had been inside for a few minutes when the doorbell rang. It was the Backyard Neighbor! She said, "I was wondering if you and your Little One would like to come over and pick some flowers." Of course we did! I told the BabyGirl that her wish had been granted, we are going back outside. We put our shoes and coats back on and jaunted across the backyard.
The Backyard Neighbor had already picked a handful of flowers to give to me, and indicated which area the BabyGirl was allowed to pick from. Most of them were sad little flowers, who, having already offered their glory to the world, were preparing to succumb to the colder temperatures. Then the Backyard Neighbor asked if i would like some mint. My heart stopped in my chest. Mint? Did she say mint?
"Oh yes, i have scads of it! I'll never get rid of it before winter." She handed me an armful.
You don't know this, but her mint was an enormous answer to prayer. Yes, something as simple as fresh mint was God's gift directly to my heart. I only hoped i could make it back home before i bawled my eyes out in wonder and amazement.
The part of the story that i haven't told you yet is that our finances have taken a turn for the dire. Moving from the Big City to the Kingdom of the Cornstalks was costly, and it used up the majority of our emergency fund. The first two months that we were here, The Professor only got half a paycheck. And we are still paying the utilities and assessments for our old condo.
Even now that The Professor is finally getting paid the full amount, we only have $300 per month for all household expenses. That's $300 for the whole month, that has to be used on everything from toilet paper to groceries to diapers. Earlier this month, both of our cars broke down, and i'll tell you that the bill was well more than $300. So suffice it to say that we're broke, and we can't afford most things.
The Professor came across this prayer about relinquishing worldly possessions from A.W. Toser, which has been very meaningful to us:
Father, i want to know Thee, but my coward heart fears to give up its toys. I cannot part with them without inward bleeding, and i do not try to hide from Thee the terror of the parting. I come trembling, but i do come. Please root from my heart all those things which i have cherished so long and which have become a very part of my living self, so that Thou mayest enter and dwell there without a rival. Then shalt Thou make the place of Thy feet glorious. Then shall my heart have no need of the sun to shine in it, for Thyself wilt be the light of it, and there shall be no night there. In Jesus' Name, Amen.
(The Pursuit of God)
Slowly, and painfully, i am learning to surrender my "wants" to Him. When an item comes to mind that i absolutely don't have the money for, i have to surrender that item to Him. Halloween costumes? Don't have the money for it; give it to the Lord. Candy to hand out to trick-or-treaters? Don't have the money for it; give it to the Lord. Coffee? Give it to the Lord. Sunday dress shoes for the BabyGirl? Give it to the Lord.
And just that day, i had surrendered mint to the Lord. There was this recipe going around pinterest for a lemonade with fresh mint that i'd been just dying to make. But fresh herbs are expensive here, and it was too frivolous. We can't waste money on stuff like that, so i had to give it to the Lord, but He gave it back! He used the BabyGirl to get me outside so that i could meet my neighbor, who gave me her mint.
It was such a small gift in the grand scheme of things, but it brought me so much encouragement. It called to mind this verse:
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
The BabyGirl refuses to let anything separate her from the outside, and our Father refuses to let anything separate us from His love.
We were playing outside, which is her #1 all-time favorite thing to do. We hadn't been out there very long when she went in the garage and started pulling at the stroller. Just the day before we'd had a playdate at a potential friend's house, and they had a little doll stroller that the BabyGirl LOVED. She pushed that doll stroller all over their house. So when she was yanking at the stroller, i thought she wanted to push it around. Granted, it is much more difficult for her to maneuver than a doll stroller, but she doesn't always think these kinds of things through.
I put the stroller out on the driveway for her to push around. She played with it for about 0.5 seconds and then started emphatically motioning toward the seat of the stroller. I said to her incredulously, "You want to get IN the stroller?"
The reason that i was incredulous is because we were currently playing outside. Usually, nothing trumps playing outside. I have never in her short little life seen her want to do anything else while she is playing outside. Playing outside is Optimus Prime, and nothing in the world matters while you are playing outside. Not mealtime, not naptime, not diaper changes, not thunderstorms, nothing. She will play outside regardless of the weather. I had a hard time believing that she wanted to get in the stroller.
Nonetheless, she ceased her whining when i posed her the question, so as a test i put her in the stroller, fully believing she would be very unhappy once she was in there.
She was not unhappy.
I thought to myself, "Great! I have a couple of things to do around the yard, and with you contained in the stroller i can actually do them." I pushed her over to a corner of the yard and started picking up some debris. She then began fussing and vehemently motioning to the back of the stroller. I said, "I knew it! You don't actually want to be in the stroller; you want to push it around."
I started unfastening the straps in order to take her out of the stroller; major protesting ensued. She was still pointing behind the stroller. I said (incredulously once again), "You want me to push you in the stroller?"
Finally, after this long game of charades, it dawned on me that she must want to go for a walk. I asked, "Walk??? You want to go for a walk?"
She exploded into happiness, smiled from ear to ear, and said, "Wok!"
I said, "Um, okay i guess. But i need to get my phone first." I ran inside to grab my phone and then we departed on our walk. About 2 minutes into it, i realized that i needed to go to the bathroom and if i'd been in charge, i also would have worn different shoes. The BabyGirl, however, had it made in the shade. She was relaxing in the comfort and convenience of the stroller, enjoying the blue sky and fresh air while leaving all the physical work to me. How sweet.
Yesterday she was at it again. It was late afternoon, and i was washing dishes. She put on her shoes, brought me her jacket, and said, "Outside!?!" It was veiled as a question but she intended it as more of a demand. The problem was that it was really cold outside. The jacket she had brought me wasn't going to cut it. I had not yet unpacked my winter outerwear. Somewhere in the deep recesses of the basement were boxes of stuff we hadn't gotten to yet, and my scarf\gloves\hat were in one of those boxes. I acquiesced to her request anyway, and bundled up the best i could, although it definitely wasn't sufficient. She had a brand new winter coat that had just arrived from Granny, so she was appropriately dressed and had nothing to worry about.
We went outside, and it was very unpleasant. Gray. Overcast. Cold. Not a soul was out there. Usually there are people out walking their dogs, and kids playing in their yards, but today the world was deserted. I said to her, "Don't you see how ridiculous this is? No one else is out here!"
She giggled and said with satisfaction, "Outside!"
Her facial expression seemed to say, "You were born in Georgia, so we all know that you are a pansy, but i was born in the Frozen Tundra, and this weather is nothing to me."
She took off running down the sidewalk. Usually she only goes to a certain point and then stops and turns around, but this time she ran all the way down the block. When we reached the intersection, she turned left and kept going. We were now in front of our backyard-neighbor's house. Does that make sense? The house whose backyard borders mine. Our backyard-neighbors have a beautiful garden. These people are real professionals. I've seen the house's inhabitants from a distance, but we hadn't met yet. It appeared to be an elderly lady and her grown daughter.
Well wouldn't you know, as we were running past their house, the elderly lady came out the front door! She was headed out for a walk too. We finally got the chance to meet each other. She was very friendly, and said that she enjoyed seeing the BabyGirl play outside. She said that we could come over anytime, and when the weather is nice the BabyGirl should come play in her yard.
The nice lady set out for her walk, and we turned around to run back towards our house. The BabyGirl and i continued to play outside for a while, until i was so cold that i couldn't take it anymore. I dragged her into the house kicking and screaming. Her cheeks were rudolf-red, her eyes were watering from the cold, and her nose was running, yet she still wanted to stay outside. She put up a fight as i took of her coat, and she put up a fight as i took of her shoes.
We had been inside for a few minutes when the doorbell rang. It was the Backyard Neighbor! She said, "I was wondering if you and your Little One would like to come over and pick some flowers." Of course we did! I told the BabyGirl that her wish had been granted, we are going back outside. We put our shoes and coats back on and jaunted across the backyard.
The Backyard Neighbor had already picked a handful of flowers to give to me, and indicated which area the BabyGirl was allowed to pick from. Most of them were sad little flowers, who, having already offered their glory to the world, were preparing to succumb to the colder temperatures. Then the Backyard Neighbor asked if i would like some mint. My heart stopped in my chest. Mint? Did she say mint?
"Oh yes, i have scads of it! I'll never get rid of it before winter." She handed me an armful.
You don't know this, but her mint was an enormous answer to prayer. Yes, something as simple as fresh mint was God's gift directly to my heart. I only hoped i could make it back home before i bawled my eyes out in wonder and amazement.
The part of the story that i haven't told you yet is that our finances have taken a turn for the dire. Moving from the Big City to the Kingdom of the Cornstalks was costly, and it used up the majority of our emergency fund. The first two months that we were here, The Professor only got half a paycheck. And we are still paying the utilities and assessments for our old condo.
Even now that The Professor is finally getting paid the full amount, we only have $300 per month for all household expenses. That's $300 for the whole month, that has to be used on everything from toilet paper to groceries to diapers. Earlier this month, both of our cars broke down, and i'll tell you that the bill was well more than $300. So suffice it to say that we're broke, and we can't afford most things.
The Professor came across this prayer about relinquishing worldly possessions from A.W. Toser, which has been very meaningful to us:
Father, i want to know Thee, but my coward heart fears to give up its toys. I cannot part with them without inward bleeding, and i do not try to hide from Thee the terror of the parting. I come trembling, but i do come. Please root from my heart all those things which i have cherished so long and which have become a very part of my living self, so that Thou mayest enter and dwell there without a rival. Then shalt Thou make the place of Thy feet glorious. Then shall my heart have no need of the sun to shine in it, for Thyself wilt be the light of it, and there shall be no night there. In Jesus' Name, Amen.
(The Pursuit of God)
Slowly, and painfully, i am learning to surrender my "wants" to Him. When an item comes to mind that i absolutely don't have the money for, i have to surrender that item to Him. Halloween costumes? Don't have the money for it; give it to the Lord. Candy to hand out to trick-or-treaters? Don't have the money for it; give it to the Lord. Coffee? Give it to the Lord. Sunday dress shoes for the BabyGirl? Give it to the Lord.
And just that day, i had surrendered mint to the Lord. There was this recipe going around pinterest for a lemonade with fresh mint that i'd been just dying to make. But fresh herbs are expensive here, and it was too frivolous. We can't waste money on stuff like that, so i had to give it to the Lord, but He gave it back! He used the BabyGirl to get me outside so that i could meet my neighbor, who gave me her mint.
It was such a small gift in the grand scheme of things, but it brought me so much encouragement. It called to mind this verse:
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:38-39, NIV
The BabyGirl refuses to let anything separate her from the outside, and our Father refuses to let anything separate us from His love.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Garden Hose Happiness
It's been pretty funny to watch 2 city folks move to the Kingdom of Cornstalks and assume responsibility for a house/yard. For example, we completely killed the lawn within 2 weeks of living here. If you looked up and down our street, you saw green grass after green grass, until you saw our lawn, which was completely brown and dead. Poor grass.
I love plants, and i love the look of nicely maintained gardens, but i have no skills or knowledge whatsoever. I wanted to plunge full-force into Advanced Level Yard Care, but the reality is that i need to start out with baby steps. As proof, i'll tell you the story of the garden hose.
We had lived here a week and it was time to mow the grass. We turned it into a family affair. While The Professor did the mowing, i decided to water all the plants, and we put the BabyGirl in her stroller outside to watch us at work. Our house came supplied with a garden hose on one of those roll-y cart things. The hose looked very unkempt. It was rolled on the roll-y cart, but not neatly. It was twisted and dirty and a big fat mess. I was very displeased by this. I'm living the suburban dream here, and i want my yard supplies to look good. Let's be honest, i want my house to look like Martha Stewart's own personal residence. I considered it a sign of poor character to have a messy garden hose. Of course any self-respecting, well-raised, hard-working person would not leave their possessions in such disarray. I set about to rectifying it.
Well, within 15 seconds i saw the truth of the matter: garden hoses have a mind of their own, and they will not be tamed. We got into such a fight, me and that hose. I unrolled the whole thing so i could straighten it and and get it untwisted, as the first step of the Hose Improvement Process. Then i connected it to the spigot and turned it on, to find out that the hose had 100 leaks in it. Water sprayed EVERYWHERE. I could have invited all the neighborhood kids to put on their bathing suits and come over for a good time, because it looked like this:
The trouble was, i was not appropriately dressed to get soaking wet, because i had not intended to get soaking wet. So there i was, muddy and cranky, and i conceded defeat. I said to the garden hose what its previous guardian must have said, "You win, garden hose. You can be as muddy and as twisted as you want."
Thankfully, The Professor bought me a new garden hose, and we became fast friends. The new hose helped me out of a hard time. The new hose is shiny, clean, perfectly wound, and eager to do your bidding.
A few days ago, the BabyGirl threw up in her crib, as a result of some medical issues she has developed recently. And we're not talking baby spit up. We're talking real, bona fide, human being vomit (bless her heart). It was disgusting. At the time i didn't know if it was routine vomit, or infectious vomit. I immediately warped into Mommy the Destroyer, and initiated Level 1 Virus Containment Protocol. All affected linens had to be quarantined and properly disinfected.
Now, in my old life when i lived in the city, it was a major pain and almost impossible to adequately deal with infectious vomit crib sheets. Because when you live in the city, you have to rinse out the vomit-sheets in your kitchen sink. It's so gross. First you have to clear out everything within a 5 foot radius of the sink, to prevent contamination. After you finish, you majorly scrub down the sink to make sure you killed all the puke germs. But for a few days afterwards, you still can't help but picturing vomit in your head while you are washing dishes in that sink.
Here, though, it's so beautiful. I could wash vomit-sheets everyday. I took them outside to rinse them out. And in the beauty of the outdoors with a nice crisp fall breeze, that atrocious vomit scent simply wafted away, rather than lingering in my kitchen. I hung the sheets, along with the clothes she was wearing at the time, on our neighbor's fence, and sprayed them down with my friendly new garden hose. After they were thoroughly rinsed, i sprayed the heck out of everything with vinegar (my sister got me hooked on vinegar recently because you can use it for EVERYTHING. It even claims to cure the common cold.). I left the clothes and sheets outside to dry in the sunshine, which is a huge antimicrobial bonus. I gave a huge fresh-air sigh of satisfaction. I love that garden hose.
It's true; He really is making all things new.
I love plants, and i love the look of nicely maintained gardens, but i have no skills or knowledge whatsoever. I wanted to plunge full-force into Advanced Level Yard Care, but the reality is that i need to start out with baby steps. As proof, i'll tell you the story of the garden hose.
We had lived here a week and it was time to mow the grass. We turned it into a family affair. While The Professor did the mowing, i decided to water all the plants, and we put the BabyGirl in her stroller outside to watch us at work. Our house came supplied with a garden hose on one of those roll-y cart things. The hose looked very unkempt. It was rolled on the roll-y cart, but not neatly. It was twisted and dirty and a big fat mess. I was very displeased by this. I'm living the suburban dream here, and i want my yard supplies to look good. Let's be honest, i want my house to look like Martha Stewart's own personal residence. I considered it a sign of poor character to have a messy garden hose. Of course any self-respecting, well-raised, hard-working person would not leave their possessions in such disarray. I set about to rectifying it.
Well, within 15 seconds i saw the truth of the matter: garden hoses have a mind of their own, and they will not be tamed. We got into such a fight, me and that hose. I unrolled the whole thing so i could straighten it and and get it untwisted, as the first step of the Hose Improvement Process. Then i connected it to the spigot and turned it on, to find out that the hose had 100 leaks in it. Water sprayed EVERYWHERE. I could have invited all the neighborhood kids to put on their bathing suits and come over for a good time, because it looked like this:
The trouble was, i was not appropriately dressed to get soaking wet, because i had not intended to get soaking wet. So there i was, muddy and cranky, and i conceded defeat. I said to the garden hose what its previous guardian must have said, "You win, garden hose. You can be as muddy and as twisted as you want."
Thankfully, The Professor bought me a new garden hose, and we became fast friends. The new hose helped me out of a hard time. The new hose is shiny, clean, perfectly wound, and eager to do your bidding.
A few days ago, the BabyGirl threw up in her crib, as a result of some medical issues she has developed recently. And we're not talking baby spit up. We're talking real, bona fide, human being vomit (bless her heart). It was disgusting. At the time i didn't know if it was routine vomit, or infectious vomit. I immediately warped into Mommy the Destroyer, and initiated Level 1 Virus Containment Protocol. All affected linens had to be quarantined and properly disinfected.
Now, in my old life when i lived in the city, it was a major pain and almost impossible to adequately deal with infectious vomit crib sheets. Because when you live in the city, you have to rinse out the vomit-sheets in your kitchen sink. It's so gross. First you have to clear out everything within a 5 foot radius of the sink, to prevent contamination. After you finish, you majorly scrub down the sink to make sure you killed all the puke germs. But for a few days afterwards, you still can't help but picturing vomit in your head while you are washing dishes in that sink.
Here, though, it's so beautiful. I could wash vomit-sheets everyday. I took them outside to rinse them out. And in the beauty of the outdoors with a nice crisp fall breeze, that atrocious vomit scent simply wafted away, rather than lingering in my kitchen. I hung the sheets, along with the clothes she was wearing at the time, on our neighbor's fence, and sprayed them down with my friendly new garden hose. After they were thoroughly rinsed, i sprayed the heck out of everything with vinegar (my sister got me hooked on vinegar recently because you can use it for EVERYTHING. It even claims to cure the common cold.). I left the clothes and sheets outside to dry in the sunshine, which is a huge antimicrobial bonus. I gave a huge fresh-air sigh of satisfaction. I love that garden hose.
It's true; He really is making all things new.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
New Name for The BabyGirl
Leading up to the BabyGirl's 1-yr birthday back in April, I knew that i was going to have to get a new name for her. Once she turned one, she technically wasn't a BabyGirl anymore. But i wanted her to keep on being my baby, so we still called her BabyGirl.
And the truth is, "BabyGirl" isn't just what we call her on this blog; we call her BabyGirl all the time. For the first few months of her life, we hardly ever called her by her name. Which is funny, that you spend so much time and effort to pick out just the right name for your little lady, and then you don't even use the name you worked so hard for. After a while we decided that we should call her by her name every now and then so she would know what her name is.
It seems that the age group from 12 months to 18 months is kind of an abyss. The child is no longer a baby, but isn't yet a toddler, so they are more of a "twoddler" (haha! like "tween", except for babies). Babywise calls it the "pre-toddler" phase, which is a good description. And it allowed me to keep having a BabyGirl, because she wasn't a toddler yet.
Well, now she is 17 months old. In a month she will be a bona fide toddler, and then we'll have to get serious about finding a new name for her. "ToddlerGirl" just doesn't have the same ring to it. I suppose that i could keep calling her BabyGirl, but we would all understand amongst ourselves that it's only a pretense.
She has a ton of other nicknames besides BabyGirl, such as BabyCakes, SweetieCakes, HoneyCakes, BabyMuffins, and MuffinPie. Wow, it sounds like all we think about is dessert! None of those nicknames sound right for a blog code name, though. I've been thinking about it off and on for several months, and i just can't come up with anything. "PreciousLittleGirlWhoIsn'taBabyAnymore" takes way too long to type. Any suggestions?
And the truth is, "BabyGirl" isn't just what we call her on this blog; we call her BabyGirl all the time. For the first few months of her life, we hardly ever called her by her name. Which is funny, that you spend so much time and effort to pick out just the right name for your little lady, and then you don't even use the name you worked so hard for. After a while we decided that we should call her by her name every now and then so she would know what her name is.
It seems that the age group from 12 months to 18 months is kind of an abyss. The child is no longer a baby, but isn't yet a toddler, so they are more of a "twoddler" (haha! like "tween", except for babies). Babywise calls it the "pre-toddler" phase, which is a good description. And it allowed me to keep having a BabyGirl, because she wasn't a toddler yet.
Well, now she is 17 months old. In a month she will be a bona fide toddler, and then we'll have to get serious about finding a new name for her. "ToddlerGirl" just doesn't have the same ring to it. I suppose that i could keep calling her BabyGirl, but we would all understand amongst ourselves that it's only a pretense.
She has a ton of other nicknames besides BabyGirl, such as BabyCakes, SweetieCakes, HoneyCakes, BabyMuffins, and MuffinPie. Wow, it sounds like all we think about is dessert! None of those nicknames sound right for a blog code name, though. I've been thinking about it off and on for several months, and i just can't come up with anything. "PreciousLittleGirlWhoIsn'taBabyAnymore" takes way too long to type. Any suggestions?
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Doing Work That Matters
I had not been working in the ICU very long, so it was very generous of the other nurses to let me be assigned to the fresh trauma patient. We all fight over fresh traumas, and this was a good one. It was unusual in that the guy had a very extensive and serious injury, but was still conscious. Most of the bad-off trauma cases are so bad off that they are either in a coma, or are sedated because they require a ventilator.
Honestly, I don't remember the patient's name, so we'll call him Ryan. He was my age. Ryan was my only patient that night because he required such close monitoring, so we spent a lot of time together. He had made a lot of bad choices in life, and there is nothing like sitting in an ICU bed on the brink of death to make you reevaluate things.
He was understandably very shaken up by the experience of falling from a 4 story building and being impaled on a fence post (see, i told you it was a good trauma). He spent a lot of time talking about his life, his relationship with his father, various mistakes he'd made, and what he'd like to do differently if he survived this injury. Mostly he was just processing out loud, and i served as a listening ear while i did my work.
Ryan was a hairy dude. The kind of guy who starts to show a 5 o'clock shadow around lunchtime. He had facial hair that started under his eyes and went all the way down his neck. He was still wearing a C-collar because he had upper extremity parasthesia and was awaiting an MRI to evaluate his spine. He hadn't been able to shave in 3 days, because he was too busy having his life saved. His neck was very itchy under the collar and it was really bothering him. He asked me to give him a shave (he couldn't use his arms to do it himself), to which i said, "Hell no I'm not taking that collar off, because i don't want to be the girl who makes you a quadriplegic."
He kept pestering me about it, and i kept saying no because it was too risky. An itchy neck versus lifelong spinal cord injury is kind of a no-brainer from a risk-benefit analysis.
Eventually he wore me down, and i consented. We had a deal that he was absolutely not allowed to move a single muscle while that collar was off, and he would not blame me if he sustained any paralysis as a result of this shave. I assembled my supplies and we began. It was a very suspenseful shave. I pretty much had no idea what i was doing (since i don't shave my face very often), and my hospital-issue razor was very dull. I was terrified that he would sneeze and sever his spinal cord. When i finished shaving him and refastened his c-collar, i told him, "Well it's definitely not the best shave you've ever had, but i hope it fixes the itching."
He replied, "It is the best shave i've ever had. You know why? Because you did it for me without any thought of what i would do for you in return."
-----------------------------------
Fast-forward several years: I'm a Stay At Home Mom now. I haven't been a SAHM very long, so i haven't had the time to reorient my identity around being a full-time mom. A month ago, i was a professional. My identity was largely defined by doing a super-intense job. Saving lives. I believed that my work was noble, and worthy of respect. So it's confusing to leave such an exceedingly all-consuming field, and instead spend the whole day on the floor with mini-me.
I was REALLY good at what i did. I experienced some very exciting and adrenaline-filled situations. I did work that mattered. I think, in contrast, about other women my age who have a job, but it's not necessarily a career. It's not something that defines them, or something they are inspired by. When they quit their empty, boring job in order to stay home with their darling babies, do they look back? Do they wonder if they are doing the right thing, or are they 100% gung-ho about staying home?
This past year, i ACHED to be able to stay home. I wanted it more than anything. I cried many a brokenhearted tear over it. I am thoroughly grateful for my change in circumstances, i truly am. I love that BabyGirl with my whole heart, and it's a delight to see her smile everyday.
But here's the thing. I believe that i became a nurse because God called me to do so. He gave me the talents and skills. He provided for my education, through my parents' generosity. He gave me the strength to keep going when i was vomited on, pooped on, yelled at, bitten, kicked, sexually harassed, etc. He predestined me to be a nurse, He called me to be a nurse, He empowered me to be a nurse.
And now it's over.
That's what i'm confused about. Is He okay that i'm not using those talents anymore? I mean, He really invested in me, and now i'm done.
I think today i received my answer. I had just laid the BabyGirl down for her nap, and was walking back to the living room to pick up Every Single Toy We Own from the floor. Out of nowhere, i heard those words from Ryan, "You're doing it without any thought of what she will do for you in return."
The tasks may be different, but the purpose is the same. I'm still taking care of a person who can't give me anything back. I'm not using IV's or ventilators or cardiac monitors to do it, but i hope that God will equip me for this career just like He equipped me for that one.
Honestly, I don't remember the patient's name, so we'll call him Ryan. He was my age. Ryan was my only patient that night because he required such close monitoring, so we spent a lot of time together. He had made a lot of bad choices in life, and there is nothing like sitting in an ICU bed on the brink of death to make you reevaluate things.
He was understandably very shaken up by the experience of falling from a 4 story building and being impaled on a fence post (see, i told you it was a good trauma). He spent a lot of time talking about his life, his relationship with his father, various mistakes he'd made, and what he'd like to do differently if he survived this injury. Mostly he was just processing out loud, and i served as a listening ear while i did my work.
Ryan was a hairy dude. The kind of guy who starts to show a 5 o'clock shadow around lunchtime. He had facial hair that started under his eyes and went all the way down his neck. He was still wearing a C-collar because he had upper extremity parasthesia and was awaiting an MRI to evaluate his spine. He hadn't been able to shave in 3 days, because he was too busy having his life saved. His neck was very itchy under the collar and it was really bothering him. He asked me to give him a shave (he couldn't use his arms to do it himself), to which i said, "Hell no I'm not taking that collar off, because i don't want to be the girl who makes you a quadriplegic."
He kept pestering me about it, and i kept saying no because it was too risky. An itchy neck versus lifelong spinal cord injury is kind of a no-brainer from a risk-benefit analysis.
Eventually he wore me down, and i consented. We had a deal that he was absolutely not allowed to move a single muscle while that collar was off, and he would not blame me if he sustained any paralysis as a result of this shave. I assembled my supplies and we began. It was a very suspenseful shave. I pretty much had no idea what i was doing (since i don't shave my face very often), and my hospital-issue razor was very dull. I was terrified that he would sneeze and sever his spinal cord. When i finished shaving him and refastened his c-collar, i told him, "Well it's definitely not the best shave you've ever had, but i hope it fixes the itching."
He replied, "It is the best shave i've ever had. You know why? Because you did it for me without any thought of what i would do for you in return."
-----------------------------------
Fast-forward several years: I'm a Stay At Home Mom now. I haven't been a SAHM very long, so i haven't had the time to reorient my identity around being a full-time mom. A month ago, i was a professional. My identity was largely defined by doing a super-intense job. Saving lives. I believed that my work was noble, and worthy of respect. So it's confusing to leave such an exceedingly all-consuming field, and instead spend the whole day on the floor with mini-me.
I was REALLY good at what i did. I experienced some very exciting and adrenaline-filled situations. I did work that mattered. I think, in contrast, about other women my age who have a job, but it's not necessarily a career. It's not something that defines them, or something they are inspired by. When they quit their empty, boring job in order to stay home with their darling babies, do they look back? Do they wonder if they are doing the right thing, or are they 100% gung-ho about staying home?
This past year, i ACHED to be able to stay home. I wanted it more than anything. I cried many a brokenhearted tear over it. I am thoroughly grateful for my change in circumstances, i truly am. I love that BabyGirl with my whole heart, and it's a delight to see her smile everyday.
But here's the thing. I believe that i became a nurse because God called me to do so. He gave me the talents and skills. He provided for my education, through my parents' generosity. He gave me the strength to keep going when i was vomited on, pooped on, yelled at, bitten, kicked, sexually harassed, etc. He predestined me to be a nurse, He called me to be a nurse, He empowered me to be a nurse.
And now it's over.
That's what i'm confused about. Is He okay that i'm not using those talents anymore? I mean, He really invested in me, and now i'm done.
I think today i received my answer. I had just laid the BabyGirl down for her nap, and was walking back to the living room to pick up Every Single Toy We Own from the floor. Out of nowhere, i heard those words from Ryan, "You're doing it without any thought of what she will do for you in return."
The tasks may be different, but the purpose is the same. I'm still taking care of a person who can't give me anything back. I'm not using IV's or ventilators or cardiac monitors to do it, but i hope that God will equip me for this career just like He equipped me for that one.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Hot Dog Hair Gel
Are these hot summer days causing you a lot of frizzy fly-aways? Do you long for voluptuous curls, but can't afford fancy salon hair products? Then look no further, because the BabyGirl has a solution for you:
Hot Dog Hair Gel!
Here's how it works:
1. Microwave a hot dog and cut it into non-choking size pieces.
2. Eat it with your hands.
3. Periodically while eating, run your fingers through your hair.
4. When you are "all done!", rub your palms on your high chair tray to pick up any lingering grease.
5. Run your fingers through your hair again.
Guaranteed to produce an all-day curl or your money back! After only three days of this hair treatment, the BabyGirl's hair is absolutely frizz-free. The Hot Dog Hair Gel is infinitely superior to Herbal Essences "Totally Twisted" Curl Scrunching Gel, which the BabyGirl's mama has been using for years.
Hot Dog Hair Gel is sold at all major grocery vendors, so don't delay! Get yours today!
Hot Dog Hair Gel!
Here's how it works:
1. Microwave a hot dog and cut it into non-choking size pieces.
2. Eat it with your hands.
3. Periodically while eating, run your fingers through your hair.
4. When you are "all done!", rub your palms on your high chair tray to pick up any lingering grease.
5. Run your fingers through your hair again.
Guaranteed to produce an all-day curl or your money back! After only three days of this hair treatment, the BabyGirl's hair is absolutely frizz-free. The Hot Dog Hair Gel is infinitely superior to Herbal Essences "Totally Twisted" Curl Scrunching Gel, which the BabyGirl's mama has been using for years.
Hot Dog Hair Gel is sold at all major grocery vendors, so don't delay! Get yours today!
Monday, August 8, 2011
Our New Life
We have arrived in our new life!
We packed everything up and left the Big City behind, and are so thankful to be here. A week later, our house is still in complete disarray, but we're thankful nonetheless. You might have expected this to be the post when i unveil pictures of our new house, but unfortunately you're going to have to keep waiting for that.
The moving experience was long and hard, but fortunately we had no major events. U-Haul, being who they are, almost didn't give us a truck, but in the end they came to their senses. Apparently we're rough on movers. We had hired a team of 4 guys to move us out of our old place and into the truck, but one guy must have heard about our heavy armoire and the 3 flights of stairs, because he decided not to show up. When we got here, we hired 2 guys to move everything from the truck into our new place, and about an hour into it, one of the guys injured his ankle. That meant it was just one guy plus Mark moving all our stuff (and we have an unneccessary amount of stuff).
My sister flew up from Atlanta to help me transport the BabyGirl and our two cats. I never would have survived without her. I am just in total awe of how loving, how giving, and how hard-working she was. It is so incredibly humbling to be given a gift that you can never repay. I'll never forget her kindness.
We also had some huge help on Moving Day from Blake and Emily. Emily worked like a dog to clean my kitchen, and she was so dang speedy! She really set an example that i've been trying to live up to. Multiple times over the past week as i've been doing task after task, i tell myself, "Be fast like Emily!"
One thing that is so very sad is that we missed David's birthday. He is the BabyGirl's bff (whether she realizes it or not), and we have treasured our "stare dates" over the past year, and i very much wanted to be able to celebrate him being #1.
Once we arrived here, we began our search for a new church home. We looked on the internet and selected a candidate. As we were getting ready on Sunday morning, The Professor joked that it was like going on a first date. You feel excited and hopeful, but recognize there's a slim chance that it will work out, and most likely you'll have to go on numerous first dates before you find something that sticks. The church we picked for our first round was called "New Life Community Church." It's so meaningful on a number of levels. There is the obvious biblical meaning, that we have new life in Jesus. But it's significant for The Professor and I because we are here starting a new life. On the church's website it said, "A place for new beginnings", which fits our situation perfectly!
When the service began and everyone stood up for the singing, i saw that a couple of people in front of us were wearing the church's t-shirt, which had the verse Revelation 21:5 on the back:
And He who sits on the throne said,
"Behold, I am making all things new."
I very nearly started sobbing right then and there. It felt like a message directly from God to my heart. All the trials, and suffering, and difficulties, and frustration of the past 1.5 years are over! The demands of my job, the violating bus ride, the heavy loads up 3 flights of stairs, the night noises on the street that keep you from sleeping - it's all behind me. He is making all things new. Yes, life is hard no matter where you are, but a great many of my hardships are no more.
I've thoroughly enjoyed watching ABC's new show Expedition Impossible. I don't have tv, so i watch it online while i pack, or wash dishes, etc. It's very inspiring. One thing i love is that for each and every team that crosses the finish line, the Host Man says to them, "Congratulations! You made it! Come in and get some rest."
That is completely what i hear in my soul: "Congratulations! You made it! You were sifted like wheat and you lived to tell about it. I am making all things new; come and get some rest."
We packed everything up and left the Big City behind, and are so thankful to be here. A week later, our house is still in complete disarray, but we're thankful nonetheless. You might have expected this to be the post when i unveil pictures of our new house, but unfortunately you're going to have to keep waiting for that.
The moving experience was long and hard, but fortunately we had no major events. U-Haul, being who they are, almost didn't give us a truck, but in the end they came to their senses. Apparently we're rough on movers. We had hired a team of 4 guys to move us out of our old place and into the truck, but one guy must have heard about our heavy armoire and the 3 flights of stairs, because he decided not to show up. When we got here, we hired 2 guys to move everything from the truck into our new place, and about an hour into it, one of the guys injured his ankle. That meant it was just one guy plus Mark moving all our stuff (and we have an unneccessary amount of stuff).
My sister flew up from Atlanta to help me transport the BabyGirl and our two cats. I never would have survived without her. I am just in total awe of how loving, how giving, and how hard-working she was. It is so incredibly humbling to be given a gift that you can never repay. I'll never forget her kindness.
We also had some huge help on Moving Day from Blake and Emily. Emily worked like a dog to clean my kitchen, and she was so dang speedy! She really set an example that i've been trying to live up to. Multiple times over the past week as i've been doing task after task, i tell myself, "Be fast like Emily!"
One thing that is so very sad is that we missed David's birthday. He is the BabyGirl's bff (whether she realizes it or not), and we have treasured our "stare dates" over the past year, and i very much wanted to be able to celebrate him being #1.
Once we arrived here, we began our search for a new church home. We looked on the internet and selected a candidate. As we were getting ready on Sunday morning, The Professor joked that it was like going on a first date. You feel excited and hopeful, but recognize there's a slim chance that it will work out, and most likely you'll have to go on numerous first dates before you find something that sticks. The church we picked for our first round was called "New Life Community Church." It's so meaningful on a number of levels. There is the obvious biblical meaning, that we have new life in Jesus. But it's significant for The Professor and I because we are here starting a new life. On the church's website it said, "A place for new beginnings", which fits our situation perfectly!
When the service began and everyone stood up for the singing, i saw that a couple of people in front of us were wearing the church's t-shirt, which had the verse Revelation 21:5 on the back:
And He who sits on the throne said,
"Behold, I am making all things new."
I very nearly started sobbing right then and there. It felt like a message directly from God to my heart. All the trials, and suffering, and difficulties, and frustration of the past 1.5 years are over! The demands of my job, the violating bus ride, the heavy loads up 3 flights of stairs, the night noises on the street that keep you from sleeping - it's all behind me. He is making all things new. Yes, life is hard no matter where you are, but a great many of my hardships are no more.
I've thoroughly enjoyed watching ABC's new show Expedition Impossible. I don't have tv, so i watch it online while i pack, or wash dishes, etc. It's very inspiring. One thing i love is that for each and every team that crosses the finish line, the Host Man says to them, "Congratulations! You made it! Come in and get some rest."
That is completely what i hear in my soul: "Congratulations! You made it! You were sifted like wheat and you lived to tell about it. I am making all things new; come and get some rest."
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