oh, hello.

It is Friday afternoon and I'm sitting here thinking about blogging. I'm thinking, "I really need to start blogging again." I'm thinking, "I wish I could get back into blogging."

Cedar is taking a nap. Azalea is playing quietly in her room recovering from strep throat. I'm sitting in my sun-lit (thank the heavens!) living room. I remember how I used to blog to connect with people and update my family. I remember adding narration to our life. I remember how blogging helped me heal from postpartum depression. I think about how it made me a better baker, a better writer, and a better mom.

In the past I would have used blogging to give you details about moving from Idaho to Oregon. I would have told you about our tiny dark apartment. I would have included stories about crying while I packed millions of boxes with the help of dear friends. You would have known that Nate moved to Oregon a month earlier than Azalea and me to start his job. I might have even told you that I was in a rotten/pouting mood from about July to two days before Cedar was born in October; though, you probably would have guessed that from my writing.

And now that I'm writing this post I can tell you that our holidays were fabulous. Really. Filled with love, and warmth, and pretty much every Seattle tourist attraction I could have wished for. And last weekend we moved out of our dark apartment and into a rental house that has a giant window in every. single. room. And I wander around the house following the sunlight like a lazy cat. No joke. And I have a decent kitchen again that I can spend the next three months setting up to be exactly the way I want it to be. And it occurs to me that I could probably get a job organizing other people's kitchens to the height of efficiency except that they probably couldn't pay me enough. I can also tell you that Cedar is 100% delightful. We can't get enough of him. The same goes for Azalea. I can tell you that we're doing pretty well. And that someday I might like it here too. Those are the kinds of things that I can blog about.

I was sitting here on Friday afternoon thinking about writing a blog so I went ahead and wrote one. It was no big deal.

ten. eleven. twelve.

Dear blog,

I have someone very special for you to meet (finally!).

{Six hours old, in mama's arms for the first time!}

{With proud daddy and smitten big sister, Azalea.}

{At home, three days old}

{Hello, beautiful.}

{Sweet baby head.}


{three weeks old}

{follow me on Instagram}

Little Cedar joined our family on October 11, 2012, and you know what?  He fits right in.

I've been spending the last three weeks writing blog posts in my head about what it is like to have Cedar around.  Trying to come up with the words to describe the feel of a newborn's head against your cheek.  Composing lines about the crazy cycle of feeding, changing, swaddling, napping, eating, showering, and repeating.  Considering complaining about how nursing hurts like the dickens but is somehow bearable and seems to be getting better. And wondering how to explain this weird thing that Cedar does where he eats, gets swaddled, and then falls asleep? Can you even imagine?  Honestly sometimes it has me stumped.  You should also hear about the way Azalea loves her little brother; especially the way she talks to him as if he is the same age as her, and the way she rushes over to show him something important whenever he opens his eyes.

I guess what I'm trying to say is...my heart is terribly full, and words really don't do this mom gig justice.

Until next time friends,

Miranda

Just right

Last night I decided it was time to do something about the box of peaches that we have slowly but surely been eating our way through. My intention was to just make a lifetime supply of peach butter, but once we started slipping the skins off those gorgeous peaches N8tr0n and I decided we should try canning them. I put in a late-night call to my dear Emmylou for a quick tutorial on how the crap you do that.

As it turned out, the peach butter took me so long to finished that I didn't have it in me to can the rest of the peaches last night. I was a bit sad when I realized that I'm too old and too attached to my sleep to pull all-nighters to satisfy superfluous whims. Oh well.

This morning all I can think about (aside from the giant bowl of peaches sitting in my fridge waiting to be canned) is how fun last night was. Working in the kitchen with N8tr0n talking about how much we love our house and our daughter I couldn't help but think about how good life really is. It was one of those moments when you can put your current frustrations aside because everything else about life is just so right.



In other news: Last night N8tr0n bought a new pair of ski boots. Z-cakes adamantly wants to go skiing too and keeps asking us to buy her some "skidis."

She says

And so suddenly she's THREE. How can this be? Literally over night she is talking like a three year old, doing things by herself like a three year old, sleeping in a giant bed like a three year old.

{With remnants of Dilly bar. Though it doesn't really matter what it is because I pretty much can't keep her face clean ever, the end.}

I suppose you could argue that these changes have been creeping up a little bit at a time, developing here and there as many milestones are wont to do. But I'm going to have to disagree with you on that. It's like she knew that she turned three. Suddenly I go downstairs to get the laundry out of the dryer and when I come back she's gotten out the stamps by herself and started Crafternoon without me! I was almost temped to ask her to drive to Fred Meyer to pick up some milk for crap's sake.

Here's another list of things she says for you. The three-year-old edition:

When she wakes up in the morning she say, "Can you take my diaper off and I can have breakfast?"

When there is a lull in the action she says, "Can I watch a movie on the puh-cuter?"

When I get dressed in the morning she says, "You're lookin' good mommy!"

When we eat dinner she takes two bites and says, "Can I be done now?"

When she bumps her head she still wants to call it a "two-head" but she thinks about it first and says, "I hurt my forehead."

When we get out of the car to go into a store she says, "Should we run?"

Her favorite book is Chrysanthemum so all day long she says, "I'm like Chrysanthemum, I'm absolutely perfect!"

(Also Chrysanthemum) she says, "The day I was born was the happiest day of my parent's lives."

When I tell her to stay by me she says, "I'm not going anywhere!"

When she wants chap stick she says, "I want lips!"

Every ten minutes she says, "I want to do stamps!"

She calls Buzz Lightyear "Buzz Right Here."

When something doesn't work she says, "I want to try again again!"

When we get in the car she says, "Oh no! The Big Bad Wolf! I left him behind!"

When she puts on her princess stuff she says, "I'm a princess! Princess mommy, do you have your shoes and your crown and your purse?"

When she plays the "guess which hand" game she says, "Picky hand!"

One time when she was watching golf with grandpa she said, "I like that guy's orange shirt." And I was like, holy crap! That was like, a complete thought with an opinion and stuff. AND, that actually is a nice orange shirt!

When we tell her we love her, she still says, "I wuv you too." And then our hearts break into a million pieces and we collapse on the floor dead from love.


We love you sweet Z, and we think you're absolutely perfect too.




Psst! Today is the last day to enter the really cool giveaway!

Last night + this morning

This little girl. Talking incessantly about telling Santa what she wants for Christmas yet still a bit unsure of the man himself. Last night we drove to the closest town with a decent mall for a little family date. We started with dinner and then headed over to see Santa. Lucky us—we arrived when there was virtually no line. As Z-cakes and I approached the big man I could feel her starting to resist against my leg. When I asked if she wanted to sit on his lap she said, "No thanks. I think I need to stay right here."

We finally talked her into sitting on the bench next to Santa.

Mr. Claus: And what would you like for Chri-
Z-cakes: A pillow pet.
Mr Claus: Oh! A pillow pet. Which one would you like? There's a fr-
Z-cakes: The ladybug.
Mr. Claus: Okay. And have you been a good lit-
Z-Cakes: Yes.

Obviously she had been rehearsing this exchange in her mind. In the end, Santa scored big points by giving her a coloring book and complimenting her light-up shoes. She gave him five but the lap was a no-go. I declared the interaction a success.

We spent the rest of the evening shopping, talking about what a delight Z-cakes is, and making fun of the hideous thing I carry around and call a "purse" these days. We stopped at a few different stores looking for that one perfect gift we want to get for Z-cakes (don't worry, the ladybug pillow pet has been procured) but to no avail. We ended up finding what we wanted on Amazon. At least we tried the old-fashioned-get-in-your-car-and-go-to-the-store-and-buy-a-gift route.

On the to-do list today:

Pack: We move everything on Saturday!

Make: Sadly, my handmade gift list was cut way back when we found out we were moving. I'm still deciding what I think I can squeeze in before Christmas.

Watch: Elf. We bought this on Amazon last night and it came with a free 48 hour rental to stream. Sweet! N8tr0n and I watched it last night and Z-cakes and I will be watching it today. I'll have to resist the urge to answer all of my phone calls with "Buddy the Elf, what's your favorite color?"

Play: Z-cakes has been playing hard with this nativity set. Lately the focus is on the wise menand their camels. Right now I can hear her talking about a "camel party." Too fun.

What are you up to today?

Don't forget to enter the current giveaway!

I to the N to the Fertility

I have never wanted to write about infertility.

In fact, I'm having quite a bit of trouble getting past that first sentence. I'm sitting here thinking, "I really don't want to be writing about this." And yet, here I am. Wrapped up in a comforter, laptop open, preparing to express the biggest frustration in my life right now to anyone who will read it. In simple terms: I really really want to have another baby.

Before now, writing about infertility seemed almost superfluous. There are forums, blogs, and entire communities dedicated to that one subject alone. What could I possibly have to add? Plus—and this is a big plus—I already have a baby. Doesn't already having a baby make my infertility less, um, legitimate? Shouldn't I be able to hug and kiss my Z-cakes and be happy that I have her without wishing for more?

But still, I wish. And so, I write. I write knowing that my experience will be similar yours while being completely different from yours. Hopefully these words will bring some comfort to someone, even if it is only me.

I was ready to be pregnant again almost two years ago. Z-cakes was turning one and I was intensely in love with being a mother. I wanted dozens of kids. Gobs and gobs of kids. Three or four kids. More than one at least. I hoped that now that I had been pregnant once my body would be able to figure out how things worked and that I would be able to get pregnant naturally this time around. After two years, no dice. No pink plus sign.

To get pregnant with Z-cakes, N8tr0n and I went to a reproductive endocrinologist. I had been diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome and after doing some research on the internet (which we all know is a really bad idea, right?) I was trying to manage my expectations. When I got pregnant after one round of Clomid I wanted to kiss that doctor right on the mouth. How could it have been that easy? I spent nine months being one of those annoying girls who really enjoys being pregnant, lived through one "major abdominal surgery," and became a mother. I refused to entertain the thought of infertility issues for subsequent pregnancies. I was living in the moment and would deal with that struggle when it came.

Unfortunately that struggle came, and it is here now. Of course not every day is a struggle. Sometimes months can pass where my heart doesn't ache for a baby and I have faith that our family will grow in time. During those months I knit baby booties for my giant list of pregnant friends. I laugh (without faking it) and joke about Z-cakes needing a sibling. I read birth stories on blogs. I embrace the ease of having one child who is slowly coming more and more self sufficient. On a good day, I am completely unfazed by questions about how many kids we want or when we plan on having another. I happily chat with people about infertility and answer questions about PCOS, and I don't even feel sorry for myself afterward.

And then, there are the other times. The times when I just want to hang my head and cry. The times when an innocent comment like, "is she your one and only?" can leave me cranky and teary for the rest of the day. It's during those times that I stop rolling out the baby gifts. I stop writing congratulatory emails for new arrivals. I cry watching Z-cakes play outside by herself. I unsubscribe to blogs because she is pregnant again and I just can't. I can't keep reading. I'll check back in nine months. Or two years. Or when I'm pregnant too. The jealousy that I feel during those times is more painful than anything else. I find that I am also full of fear. Fear that we might never have another baby. Fear that we will spend years and years trying, and that I'm not appreciating what I have because I'm so focused on what I want.

I rise up out of these slumps through the help of my family and my faith. And when I say family, I mean my immediate family. N8tr0n is the only person in the world who can say whatever he wants about babies, fertility, pregnancy and general procreation without having me lose it completely. How does he always make me laugh when he says, "hey, we should have another baby!" as if it has never occurred to either of us before? Z-cakes is my sunshine, and I find it impossible to worry about infertility when I'm snuggled up on the couch with her. My faith is what carries me from the depression of infertility to the lightness of hope. And when I kneel to pray I only rarely ask to have a baby. It feels a bit redundant, and I'm pretty sure God knows that's what I want. Instead I pray that the jealousy and fear that has a tight grip on my heart can be lifted. That I might be able to feel and express the love and excitement I have for my expecting friends. That I might find joy in our present instead of worrying about our future.

I said that I've never wanted to write about infertility and I meant it. It is not a fun subject to write about. I don't enjoy worrying my family, because I know many of them read this blog. I don't like to look like a jealous person or complain too much about my personal life. I hardly think that I can eloquently portray the heartache infertility can bring. But when a topic nags at me long enough, I have to give in and write about it. I have left out a lot of details. I don't plan to make a habit out of writing about our struggles. But I believe in the healing power of writing, and I believe in reaching out to others through my blog. If you need to talk to somebody about how infertility sucks, I'm happy to be that somebody.

I am abundantly blessed with a loving family and friends who care about me. I know that our family will grow in its own way whether we end up having dozens of kids or not. I am striving to bring myself out of each slump as a stronger woman, a more loving mother, and a more compassionate human. I will continue to trust in God and I will be truly happy, no matter what.

XOXO

She says...

Z-cakes is quite the little talker. And by that I mean she absolutely never stops talking. It doesn't matter whether I'm talking to her or not, that girl is having a conversation with something or someone at all times. People are constantly asking me if I'm writing down some of the funny things she says to which I always respond, "of course!" I am lying. I hardly ever write her words down. And I know I will forget them You're totally right. So in a small act of repentance (both for the lying and the procrastination) here is a list of my favorite things that Z-cakes says.

When we're driving home she says: "Are we going to my house? My very own house?"

When Grandpa Ken walks out the door she says, "You going golfing?"

When she sees a grasshopper she says, "There's a hopgrasser!"

When I tell her to put her shoes on outside she says, "Grassa feel good on my feet."

When I ask her to say the prayer at bedtime she says, "Heavly Fader, thank you this day, thank you mommy, daddy, Zawea, bless the food, Jesus Christ, amen.

When she wants to do something by herself she screams "MY DO IT," and then crumples into a crying puddle on the floor.

When she bumps her forehead she says, "I hurt my twohead!"

When she is still crying from a bump she sobs, "Can you kiss it better?"

When she is still crying she says, "I want to be happy!"

When I get her up from her nap she says, "I glad you're here mommy."

When she talks to N8tr0n on the phone she says, "Hi daddy! Are you driving home?"

At totally appropriate times she says, "Boo Yeah!" only it comes out "Poo Yeah!"

When I tell her she can't have whatever it is she's asking for she says, "Aww! But I need my favorite!"

When I tell her not to jump on the couch she says, "But sure I can mommy!"

When she looks in the mirror she says, "I so cute."

When I turn on music she says, "I wanna dance. Get up! Get up mommy!"

When we ask her to sing a song she sings John Denver.

When we're driving to a play-date she says, "I so excited see my friends!"

When we tell her we love her she says, "I LOVE you TOO mommy, daddy."

We love you so much, Z-cakes. Thank you for filling our home with your sweet voice.

Happy Birthday Dude

Today is N8tr0n's birthday.

Dear N8tr0n,

I love, love, love you.

Craypron

My sister-in-law sent me these pictures last week of my adorable nephew, Mr. Poop, enjoying the crayon apron that I made him for handmade holiday 2009.

It's always so nice to see your gifts being enjoyed, don't you think? It's also nice to see my creation on such a handsome model. I have always been a sucker for the hair sticking out of the baseball cap look.

Hiking 2010 :: Red Rocks Trail

We went on our first hike of the year on Saturday. The weather was beautiful and this being our third Spring in Colorado, we've learned to take full advantage of sunny days in March.

We decided to go on the Red Rocks Trail since we were familiar with the terrain. We loaded up our sweet hiking backpack, filled the CamelBak with water, and we were off. To be honest, I was a little concerned about carrying Z-cakes around in the hiking backpack. After all, she had spent all Winter getting bigger and N8tr0n and I had spent all Winter...not exercising. But there was no need to worry. Mostly because N8tr0n carried her through two-thirds of the hike, but also because, as I mentioned before, our backpack is sweet.

The Red Rocks trail is one of my favorite hikes and I recommend it to a lot of people. The surrounding rock formations are beautiful any time of year, and the view of Jefferson County at the top of the loop is worth the climb. Then again, I'm a sucker for a hike with a good view. I also like that this hike gives you the option of making a loop (if you link up with the Morrison Slide trail) or climbing to the top and going back the way you came. I'm a fan of hikes that loop, in case you were wondering.

The only downsides for this hike is that it can be crowded at times. It is a great hike for families and mountain bikers and as a result, the trail usually has plenty of both. The amount of people has never bothered me but if you're the kind of person who doesn't want to run in to anyone else on your hike, I would look elsewhere. There is also very little shade on the hike so I would recommend having plenty of sun protection.

At the end of our hike, we declared success. We were so happy to venture out into the sunshine and start getting back into hiking shape again. Be sure to check out this hike if you ever get the chance, and be sure to let me know when you do!

One Little Word: Embrace

In January, I chose one word that I would focus on throughout the year. My "one little word." My inspiration for this came from Ali Edwards, though I have noticed a few of my friends in blogland have been doing it for years. I tried not to think too hard about my word. Tried to let the word choose me. A few weeks into January, there was one word swimming around in my head: Embrace. I don't know why I chose this word, there was no Aha!, no lists of potential words. Embrace was just the word that kept popping into my head over and over. I figured there were plenty of things to embrace in 2010 and I adopted the word, claiming it as my own.

Yesterday, my one little word helped me get through the day.

Yesterday, as I was loading Z-cakes into the car after a trip to the pharmacy, N8tr0n called to let me know that he did not get the job we were so hopeful for.

I cried.

I cried really hard. I cried because I was so frustrated. I cried because I was so sick of this. I also cried because I was just returning home from a trip to the doctor. Because besides the fact that we can't seem to find work, we can't seem to get pregnant either. So, there ya go.

I came around to take Z-cakes out of her car seat with tears still streaming down my face. Z-cakes gave me a funny look and said, "mommy crying." "Yep, mommy's a little sad right now," I said as I pulled her into my arms. And instead of wiggling away and running to the door, as is her usual routine, she put her head down on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. Her tiny fingers patted my arm and she said, "ssokay mommy, I sorry happened." The same words I tell her when she cries..."It's okay. I'm so sorry that happened."

I started crying all over again, standing in the driveway with my two-year-old daughter holding me tight. Except this time I wasn't thinking about how angry I was that N8tr0n didn't get his job, I was thinking one word: Embrace.

Z-cakes' hug helped calm me down. As did the lengthy phone call to my mom. As did the copy of Oprah's magazine that I accidentally purchased at Walgreens. (No, seriously, it really was an accident...I meant to put it back before I checked out, not place it under the other things I was buying.)

I should mention that N8tr0n's job news was more bittersweet than simply bitter. The interviewers were very impressed with him and as a result he has already made contact with a person who works in another division of the company. A position may open in the future that they believe N8tr0n would be a nice fit for. We don't have a timeline, but at least we don't feel like we're back at square one as is so often the case when he gets turned down for a job.

Also. Also. Thank you again for your thoughts and prayers. We feel very loved by you.

I have much to embrace.

A healthy, smart, and sensitive two-year old girl.

A loving husband.

A little family of three.

I'll be trying to focus on what things should be embraced while we're patiently waiting for the next chapter of our lives to begin.

Happy Balentimes!

There were cupcakes and sugar cookies being passed out at church today. Let's have Valentine's Day on Sunday every year.

Here's what N8tr0n and I got each other for Valentine's Day.

Yes. Oh yes.

Of course N8tr0n surprised me with a bouquet of lilies too. Because he's awesome like that.

Now if you'll excuse me...I have a date with my husband. And Mr. Bourne.

Cousins are the best.

We've been making the best of our holiday weekend. These cousins have been going non-stop, pausing only for the occasional light reading and goldfish eating.

The adults have been trying to keep up with them in the amusement department. And although we've been staying up into the wee hours of the morning playing Agricola and Canasta, eating chocolate cake, and conducting science experiments, I don't think we've sapped out the kind of quality time that these kids have.

So sad that their visit is coming to an end. Fortunately while we're waiting for their plane to take flight we'll be watching the road for even more visitors. My parents are coming to town for a week. More stock show. More spice shop. No Casa Bonita.

Enjoy your Martin Luther King, Jr. day.

If I knew you were coming...

We have family visiting us this weekend. My sister/brother-in-law and my adorable nephew. More affectionately known as, noisy penguin, Dr. Pants, and Mr. Poop. My SIL has quite the sweet tooth (much like you-know-who). Remember how I took her on a cupcake tour of Denver last year? I always want to bake with her whenever we're together but sadly, we rarely have time. This time I anticipated our busy schedule and decided to have a cake ready and waiting when the three of them walked in the door.

{sifted flour}

I was babysitting a couple of Z-cakes' friends this morning which meant that she could play happily in the living room while I had the kitchen all to myself. As much help as Z-cakes is at making bread, she simply has no patience for cakes. "Are you kidding me, mom? You're going to sift that flour three times? Whatever. I'm gonna go put that funnel on my head."

This is a Devil's Food Cake that my sweet friend Charlotte (my baking mentor) taught me how to make. She always refers to it as an "easy little two egg cake," so that is what I call it in my head; The Little Two Egg Cake.

{two eggs}

I've made this cake several times and always had great results. Well, except for the time that I took the pans out of the oven and left one of them on top of a burner that was on (what the?). But I don't really count that as a baking failure.

{Pyrex love}

Today was no exception. The cakes puffed up perfectly. My house filled with a decadent chocolate aroma, and both cakes slipped right out of their pans and on to the cooling rack. And all was right with the world.

We have an action packed weekend plan. We will definitely be going to the stock show, probably stopping off at the spice shop, and most likely (deep breath) Casa Bonita. Mercy.

Happy Weekending.

P.S. Anyone care to guess what we'll all be eating for breakfast?

That reminds me of a story...

N8tr0n and I ate this for dinner a couple of nights ago and it was fantastic. And that is coming from someone who only marginally likes tofu.* I love Brussels sprouts though, and I always have fun filling my grocery bag with the perfect sprouts for a dish (it's weird I know). Sometimes I forget why I actually need the Brussels sprouts because I'm so caught up in picking out the nice ones, and I end up with way more than I actually needed in my bag. That very thing happened to me the other day and it reminded me of a story:

The first year we lived in Colorado we decided to host Thanksgiving at our house with my in-laws. All of them. As in, mother-in-law, father-in-law, brother/sister-in law, and brother-in-law. I knew we would need a lot of food and I was prepared. I waited to buy most of the produce until the day before everybody came so that it would be fresh. I walked over to the beautiful pile of green beans and filled my bag. Then I moved on to the sweet potatoes. However, a quick glance over my shoulder revealed a man filling his grocery sack with twice as many green beans as I had! Maybe even three times? I wondered how many people he could possibly be having over for Thanksgiving dinner at his house. Did I need more green beans? Surely I had underestimated. I lost all confidence in my people to food proportioning abilities. Once the man was gone, I zoomed back over to the green beans and filled my bag until it was heaping.

We had way too many green beans.

I think it was so funny that it never once occurred to me that the dude may have had absolutely no idea what he was doing. I assumed he had carefully planned (as I thought I had), and had figured out that he actually needed five pounds of beans. But for all I knew, he could have just been a husband who had been sent to the grocery store at the last minute to get "some" green beans. He may have been playing it safe and was buying enough produce to feed a crowd of twenty a main course meal of green bean casserole. He could have been like my dad that time he went to the grocery store to buy lettuce.

Which reminds me of a story...

My dad is the kind of guy who likes to have cash in his wallet. Something those of us in the debit card era rarely have the satisfaction of experiencing. One day he was sent to the grocery store to get some lettuce but he was running low on funds. He checked his wallet and hoped that the $5.00 he had would be enough. When he got to the grocery store he was shocked...."What! You mean to tell me that some poor [sap]** out in North Carolina is slaving away growing lettuce and he's not even going to get a doller per head?" I love that about my dad. Always thinking about the source. What else would you expect from a cattle grower/farmer? It is just a good thing he wasn't in charge of the grocery shopping...who knows what the man would have paid for a gallon of milk!

Which reminds me of a story....

No, actually it doesn't. That's all the stories I have for today. I'm saving the rest for later. Now I'm off to work on some very important projects that I have to finish before we leave for Idaho. If you need me, I'll be at my sewing machine. Which is next to the table covered with scrapbook materials, and behind the basket of laundry, and next to the bucket of sensory beans, and under the giant stack of fabric. I'll be there. And if you never hear from me again...avenge my death.

* N8tr0n really likes tofu and I'm not opposed to eating it...but I'm running out ideas and recipes. Any of you have good tofu recipes/methods for use? I would really REALLY appreciate it if you sent them my way.

**edited

Crayola Doesn't Make A Color For Your Eyes

N8tr0n and I love to listen to A Prairie Home Companion on Sundays after church. Just another nail in the coffin of our young, hip, child-less selves. One day I was out of the house during most of the program and when I got home N8tr0n was excited to tell me about a great song he'd heard.

Any guesses as to whom he was thinking of when he heard the song?

I know what makes me happy.
Don't have to think for long....

My family is so totally rad.