An Ode to My Guy

Last week, my friend Whitney posted about the importance of affirming our husbands.  Her rule of thumb: "Never bad mouth your husband to anyone.  Ever."  It's amazing how a group of girlfriends can get together and start sharing their struggles, and then before you know it everyone has said something less-than-flattering about the love of their life.  Whitney's words challenged me and encouraged me to be more intentional about publicly affirming my husband.  Pop over and read her post when you get a chance!

I can think of several times in the past few weeks that I have bragged on my husband to friends of mine, but I wanted to take a minute to tell you all about what a rock star the guy has been in the past few months.  I mean, he's always a rock star, but there are some things he's done in the past few months that have really stood out to me, and I want to make sure that he gets some credit!

Airplane watching with his favorite co-pilot at the Memphis Botanical Gardens

My man is in his fourth and final year of optometry school.  Needless to say, the last three years have been a fairly endless stream of trials and hard work.  I could write a novel about everything that Jonathan has been through to get to this point, from leaving a career in finance to obey God's calling to a new field, to putting up with being the oldest undergrad in all of his prerequisite courses, to the grueling first two years of school, to the last year and a half of rigorous days in the clinic and externships.  Add to that a wife, son, and energetic dog, and you've got a lot on one plate.

But there are two specific things that I have especially admired about my man recently.  First, is this guy's incredible sense of time management.  This fall, he is preparing for Part II of Boards in November.  In addition, he has five case study papers to turn in around the same time.  It would be easy for him to wait until the last minute to finish those papers or start studying for boards.  But not this guy.  Knowing that we have family coming for Thanksgiving and a fun weekend trip planned with friends in November, he went ahead and knocked out all five papers during nap times over the course of a couple weekends.  They are totally done!  

Then, during his days at the VA, he often has short breaks between patients.  Instead of joining his classmates in the lobby for chatting, he hops on the computer in his exam room and uses the online study resources for the board exam, getting in about 45 minutes to an hour of studying done each day.  That's an hour that he isn't spending on it at home, which means the world to me!  It takes a lot of planning ahead and sacrifice to fit those things into his schedule, but it makes my life so much more pleasant when he makes that effort.  Throughout optometry school, he has been so intentional about making sure that his academics don't make both of our lives miserable, and I don't think every spouse of a student can say that!  

The other thing that I so admire about my husband is his discipline.  His schedule at the VA requires him to be at the hospital at 7 a.m.  Jonathan is the type of guy who really thrives with physical activity.  He knows that exercise makes him feel better and that it is ultimately worth the commitment for his overall health.  It would be easy for him to cut that out that during this demanding season of life, or for him to go after work, which would cut into our family time.  Instead, the guy gets up at 5:40 three times a week to get a work out in at the school before heading to the hospital.  And at the risk of embarrassing him, I'll just say the hard work shows...ow ow!  ;)  I so admire his personal discipline (although my admiration might be hard to sense when I am rolling over as his alarm goes off!).   

In the midst of all that, he still managed to keep us all afloat during my first trimester, he watches Riggins four times a week while I work out at Jazzercise, he is taking on the role of coordinating worship at our church, and he is just an all-around spectacular husband and father.  He isn't perfect, but he is perfect for me, and I am so honored to be his wife.  

What do you admire about your husband?  Share in the comments or blog about him today!  

Pregnancy, Then and Now

The most common question of early pregnancy is, "How are you feeling?"  

At 13.5 weeks, I am happy to say that I am finally beginning to feel human again.  I have officially gone 3.5 days without even thinking about throwing up...Hoorah!  This pregnancy has been very similar to my first: not a whole lot of vomiting, but 24/7 nausea and severe food and smell aversions.  At any given moment of the day, I could easily bow to the Great White Throne.  But my experience has shown that unlike the stomach flu, when vomiting brings relief, pregnancy vomiting just makes me feel worse.  I have mastered the art of closing my eyes, breathing deeply, and thinking happy thoughts until the urge to lose my lunch fades.

Now here I am in the second trimester, and as Jonathan said with great relief, "You're back!"  My poor boys had been living in squalor and subsisting on boxed mac-n-cheese.  They were good sports.  But this week the house is decently clean again, dinners have been on the table, and I have not greeted my husband from the couch in pajamas at the end of the work day.  Progress!  

With this second pregnancy, a new most-commonly-asked-question has arisen: "Isn't it so much harder to be pregnant when you already have one?"  

And to that I say a big, fat, "No way!  It's a breeze!"  Here's why:

The last time I was pregnant, I was the Greek Life and Community Service Advisor at The University of Memphis.  In weeks 8-10 of that pregnancy, we were in the thick of fraternity and sorority recruitment.  With no exaggeration, I worked until 2 a.m. every night for a week (Panhellenic Recruitment), and then until 11 p.m. for another week (IFC Recruitment).  During sorority recruitment, I was either running around handling drama with the ladies or cooped up front of a computer in a room that had been filled with huge catering orders of BBQ and pizza that would then be left there all night for me to smell.  I ended up not being able to eat BBQ or pizza for my entire pregnancy.  During fraternity recruitment, I spent my nights driving around in a golf cart from house to house, making sure that young college gentlemen weren't using booze to sway their newest members.  And while I thoroughly enjoyed my job and the students I worked with, I dealt with lots and lots of drama, stupid choices, bad attitudes, and generally exhausting behavior.  

Even once the mess of recruitment was over, I still worked crazy hours.  Saturday morning service projects at 6:30 a.m.  Monday night meetings at 9 p.m.  Wednesday night recruitment meetings at 7.  All of that in addition to my regular office hours.  Oh, and since I am old school and did not share my pregnancy until later, I put up with all of that without the excuse of pregnancy!  (Although I did enjoy shutting my door for a daily lunch break power nap!) 

(Here I am with some of my darling Panhellenic women who threw me a fantastic shower!  I really do miss these girls!  Thanks to Tigers games and other university events, I'm able to keep in touch with many of them.  Riggins has quite the fan club!)  

This time, yes, I have my hands full with a busy toddler.  And I'm sure that as I get bigger and as he gets older it will be much more difficult to keep up with him, lift him, etc.  But for getting through the first trimester yuckies, my current situation has been a dream compared to the first time around!  This time, I can stay in my pajamas.  I have at least one, sometimes two, naps each day (You can bet that the second that nursery door is shut I have been bolting for my bed, sometimes sleeping the entire 2 hour nap time!  This week I've actually been able to stay up and get some things done, which is huge!)  He goes to bed each night at 7, which means that if I want to call it a night at 9, I can!  And even when he is awake, he is young enough not to mind if we spend the afternoon laying in his box house reading books, playing in his room as mama lays on the floor nearby, or snuggling on the couch for some Praise Baby or Baby Einstein.

So you can bet I am counting my blessings this time around!  All in all, being responsible for one sweet toddler is a whole lot easier than being responsible for 800 collegiate Greeks!   

A bitty bump shot at 11 Weeks, with my personal stylist in tow.  

Tiny Dancer

Three years ago, just after our move to Memphis, the city finished its renovation of the Levitt Shell, an amphitheater in the heart of Overton Park.  The site of Elvis' first public performance, the Shell is a historic gem.  To kick off it's new lease on life, the city began a series of free concerts from May to June and September to October.  On Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights in these months, there is a free concert, with a wide range of genres and artists represented.  

Between the price (FREE!), the ambiance, and the close proximity to our house, Jonathan and I have spent many an evening at Levitt Shell over the past three years.  Aside from the great music, half of the fun of a Shell concert is the people watching.  We've seen everything from interpretive dancers wearing Hammer pants and dancing to their own beat, to adorable couples who swing dance like experts!  

But the best entertainment comes from the crowd of children who end up congregating in front of the stage.    There's nothing like watching a child move to music without a care in the world, completely oblivious to the adoring giggles of onlookers, utterly unaware of what moves look cool or dorky.  

In the early years, when Jonathan and I speculated that we would like to start a family before leaving Memphis, I wondered if I would ever see my own child toddling in that crowd.  Then, almost two years ago, I sat with a burgeoning belly, listening to Derek Webb and feeling my little boy kick and somersault to the music.  And then in May of 2010, I tucked my two-week old into the Moby wrap for his first Levitt Shell Concert.  

(Boy, do we look TIRED!  And one of us looks a little chubby.  Are we ready to do this again!?! ;)

On Sunday night, some old friends passed through town for the evening.  In an attempt to pack some of Memphis' finest into just a few hours, we picked up Central BBQ take out and headed to the Levitt Shell to hear the University of Memphis Jazz Orchestra, Southern Comfort.  We picked out a grassy spot up front, spread out our blankets, and got settled.  

I don't have any pictures of the evening, but I want to paint the picture in my mind and remember it forever.  A cool fall night.  My seventeen-month old boy in a green and white checked shirt and conductor-striped overalls.  A mop of blonde hair waving in the breeze.  And dancing.  Lots of dancing. Before the band even began, there was my little man, bobbing to the beat of the music over the loudspeakers, toddling through the crowd and making new friends, attempting to climb on stage, high-fiveing a leather-clad biker, and inspecting a man in his wheelchair as though he drove some cool, tricked-out stroller.  

And then, when the band began to play and the colored lights began to glow and change, he was mesmerized.  He spent the entire evening dancing in front of the stage.  As I sat nearby, I took a mental picture: a blonde toddler in overalls, standing in front of the stage, hands and chin resting on the edge, looking up at the band and the huge Shell overhead, taking it all in.  I was desperate for my camera to freeze the moment forever, but instead I just sat back and tried to press the image into my mind. 

That night, as I tucked him into bed, I told him that he had made my dreams come true.  I got to watch my very own tiny dancer at the Levitt Shell.  And I will remember that sweet, simple night forever.  

Great Expectations

Riggins has some news!  

 We are thrilled to be expecting our second child in early April!  

We are so very grateful for God's gracious, undeserved blessings to our family, and we appreciate your prayers for a healthy, uneventful pregnancy as we await this sweet addition!   

Toddler Theology

I was in the kitchen, almost finished wiping down the counters so that I could spend some time playing with Riggins before heading out for the evening.  

At my feet, he clung for dear life to my legs, whining in desperation, his frustration only increasing with my "Wait, sweetie," "Patience, baby," "One minute, honey."  It has been one of those days when he has been especially needy and impatient even when I am seconds away from fulfilling his needs.  

With the last crumb swept away, I knelt down, placed my hands on his shoulders, drew him into a hug, and then looked into his eyes:  

"I hear you, darling.  I know you don't think I do, but I hear you.  And I'm right here.  I will give you what you need."  

And then I was hit with a sensation that has occurred a handful of times in my almost seventeen months of motherhood.  The clear sensation of God's voice, prompting my attention to yet another similarity between my earthly experience of parenting and his divine Fatherhood to his children.  

So often--today, even--I find myself needy.  Whining.  Impatient.  Desperately pulling at the leg of God and complaining, assuming that He couldn't possibly hear, accusing him of not meeting my needs as quickly or as accurately as I would wish.  

And tonight I felt my words repeated back to me:

I hear you darling.  I know you don't think I do, but I hear you.  And I'm right here.  I will give you what you need.

My son may not get his milk as soon as he would like.  He may get broccoli instead of sweet potatoes.  He may go to bed earlier than he is ready.  He may have to wait one minute before receiving the fullness of the attention and love I have to give him.  But he will have everything he needs, when he needs it, and with an abundance of love and care.  Because he is my son.  Because I love him more than life.  

I may not have as much money in my budget as I would like.  I may not know what life after May 2012 has in store.  I may not (scratch that...will not) get my dream house, dream neighborhood, dream life the second Jonathan graduates next Spring.  I may have to watch those I love endure hardships that I do not understand, and endure hardship myself.  I may have to wait years before being able to see the fullness of God's purpose and blessing in these areas of my life.  But I will have everything I need, when I need it, and with an abundance of love and care.  Because I am His child.  Because He loves me more than life.  

I hear you darling.  I know you don't think I do, but I hear you.  And I'm right here.  I will give you what you need.

Yes I CAN!

Y'all, I have learned a new skill, and I am here to proclaim to the world that YOU TOO CAN CAN!  That's right...call me Pioneer Woman, because this summer I tackled canning, something that I had always feared.  For some reason I just assumed that canning was extremely complicated and that if I messed it up I would be permanently deformed by exploding hot glass jars.  

But really, it is super simple!  A little time consuming, yes, but when you consider the output you get for the input, it is well worth an evening of your time.  

My first attempt was apple butter.  A big, beautiful apple tree resides in the back yard of my parents' home in Arkansas, and I had always scolded them for not using the abundance of apples.  Granted, the are small, tart cooking apples, not great for eating out of hand, but still totally useful.  So when my parents visited this summer, Dad toted along a HUGE box of apples.  After checking out a few books from the library, honing in on a recipe, and stocking up on jars and supplies, I went to work.  

It turned out beautifully!  The apple butter was delicious (I used a crock-pot recipe that called for leaving the skins on the apples, so it could not have been easier!), every jar sealed correctly, and I now have a stash of apple butter in the pantry ready for Christmas gifts.  (If we don't polish it off ourselves before then!  FYI: cinnamon raisin bagel, cream cheese, and apple butter are a stellar combo).  

With a little more confidence, I was ready for my second project.  Our neighborhood has a greenline walking trail, and on it are two huge fig trees.  I've kept my eye on those trees all summer, just waiting for those little jewels to ripen.  And I knew just what to do with them.  Mama Dot and her sister Francille always made this amazing fig preserves.  They canned them whole in a heavy syrup studded with lemon rind.  Francille was kind enough to supply me with two jars on my last visit, but I'm down to the last bit of my last jar, and Francille is scheduled to move to a retirement home this fall.  Soon, there would be no more fig preserves.  The tradition was mine to figure out.  

I had Mama Dot's recipe, but in typical Southern girl style, it read a little something like this: 

To large bowl of figs, add soda.  Boil in sugar syrup slow and long with one sliced lemon.  

Not quite enough to go on.  But after a bit of Googling, I found a few similar methods with more exact instructions.  Now it was just time to wait on those figs!  

I checked them one afternoon as we drove home, and they were ready!  As soon as Riggins woke from his nap, I grabbed my biggest mixing bowls, drove to the tree, plopped the boy in the shade beneath, and went to picking!  Then, when I had gotten all I could at my height level, I put Riggs in the car, pulled up underneath the tree, and then stood on the car to get more.  I'm sure the neighbors thought I was INSANE, but I left with a load of figs for free!  (Well, I paid in lots of sweat and a grumpy kid, but FREE!)  

It was game time....I soaked the figs... (the Riggins girls always left the stems on their figs, which I never minded, but these ended up being a little tougher even after cooking down.  Next time, I'll remove them).

Threw them in my biggest pot with the sugar syrup and sliced lemon (Appropriately, this vintage LeCruset Dutch oven belonged to Jonathan's great-grandmother.  Not a direct relation to Mama Dot and Francille, but still another fine Southern Arkansan lady who I would imagine would be very proud to see her great-grandson's woman mixin' up some fig preserves in her pot!  Isn't that turquoise color divine?)  

They simmered for about 30 minutes, nice and long and slow, just like Mama Dot said to do.  

Eventually that syrup gets nice and thick and jammy, and the figs get soft and plump.  Perfect for drizzling over plain yogurt (my modern enjoyment) or smearing onto a hot biscuit (the traditional enjoyment).   

Then, it's time to can.  I boiled my jars and lids, and then filled each hot jar with the hot preserves to 1/4 inch from the rim.  Wipe the rim of the jar, place a hot lid on top, and screw on a ring.  Then pop the jars into a big pot of boiling water and allow to process for 10 minutes.  

Remove from the pot onto a towel and allow to cool overnight.  Unless you have a big canning pot, this all has to be done in stages, so that it what gets time consuming.  I just did it one night after Riggs had gone to bed.  I didn't want a toddler tugging on my leg as I boiled glass jars, you know? :)  

The next morning, test the seals: push on the lid to see if it gives at all.  It shouldn't budge.  Another method is to remove the ring and pick up the jar by just the thin lid.  It should hold tight.  I used both methods just to be sure! :)  

I ended up with these 3 large jars of figs and about four smaller jars.  And I am pleased to report that they taste just like the real deal!  I was so relieved and proud to know that I can carry on this little treat that our family has long enjoyed (although Jonathan isn't crazy about them, so more for me!).  

I think I'll probably reserve canning for those times when I can get an abundance of some food for free or super cheap.  I don't think I'll be going out and buying bushels of strawberries to make jam when I can buy a good jar of Bon Maman for $4 and just eat my fresh strawberries.  But for keeping up a family tradition or taking advantage of a bushel of free apples, canning is a fun, simple little hobby that reaps major rewards!  You "can" do it!  (heehee)

Your Two Cents: Nap Transitions

Good Morning, friends!

I've got a mom question, and I thought I'd bring it to the blogosphere to get your two cents!

Here's the deal...

For the longest time, Riggins has taken a morning nap from 9-10(ish) and an afternoon nap from 1-3(ish).  Although we've had a few days in the last month where he has chatted through that morning nap, we've also had days where he sleeps two hours in the morning; and, of course, plenty of days where he sticks to his usual 9-10.  

But next week, all of our fall activities begin--Bible Study Fellowship (BSF), our church's bible study, and MOPS--which means that at least three mornings a week we have a morning activity that begins around 9:30.  So I'm not sure what to do about that morning nap.  

It seems like my options are:

(1) Keep putting him down at 9:00 when our morning allows (the four days a week without a morning activity) and hope for the best on the other days.  We have had a few days when we've skipped the morning nap for an outing.  He seemed to do fine, and picked right back up with the morning nap the next day.   I guess the only issue is that our activities are three days in a row.  

(2) Attempt to phase out the morning nap and transition to one post-lunch nap.  My only hesitation with that plan is that I would prefer to follow his lead when it comes to his schedule, and since he seems content with his current nap routine I hate to mess with it.  But, I wonder if it would be best to have the same nap routine every day.  And selfishly, on the days when he hasn't taken a morning nap, he has still napped from 1-3, not longer.  I would be really sad to lose a whole hour of nap time!  Does that afternoon nap get longer once it is more established?  

(3) Wait and see how he handles the first few weeks of our new routine and decide later.  

So any wisdom you have to share when it comes to transitioning to one nap is much appreciated!  Comment away, friends!