Going Under the Knife

My little man is having eye surgery tomorrow morning. And it's my fault. Rather, it's my genes' fault.

Those of you who have been around Isaac in the last year and a half or so have probably noticed that his eye increasingly crosses in. We first started noticing it when he was 2.5, and it has been getting worse since then. After seeing three different opthamologists, we're finally convinced that surgery is the best way to go. So tomorrow morning, at 9:30 am, Isaac's eye muscles are going to be readjusted. Please pray for peace for all of us (probably me more than anyone!), skill for the surgeon, and a completely successful operation that would NOT require subsequent surgeries. Unfortunately, this kind of surgery comes with a 20% chance of needing a second surgery...which we would obviously like to avoid.

One day, probably when he's 8, I'll give him all the gory details of how they pull out his eyes, sever the muscles, and reattach them. He'll think it's cool then. For now, he just knows that he's going to the hospital, the doctor will give him some special medicine to help him sleep, and when he wakes up, Mama and Daddy will be right there, and his eyes will be fixed. I told him his eyes might sting later that day, but that I would make him a special treat for dinner. (He is his Daddy's son, and has already chosen pasta :).

I had a similar issue at birth, and had this surgery at 18 months old. Thankfully, I only needed one surgery, but because of it's early onset, I lost my binocular vision (a source of endless wonder and entertainment for some of my friends in youth group days). I'm really glad that Isaac's outlook is a lot brighter, but very aware right now that we are at the mercy of a surgeon's hand and our God's mercy on Isaac.

Thanks for your prayers, everyone. We'll post an update tomorrow.

Lemon Blueberry Bread

I have two very eager helpers in my kitchen. They are both short, clumsy, and a little too inexperienced to function as good sous-chefs, but I'm trying to be a good mom and let them help anyway. Our kitchen, while no longer microscopic, is still a little short on counter space, so it takes a little extra patience to let them haul in chairs and crowd me out of my own space. But it's a good cause, right? I want my kids to help one day, and I want to involve them in the cooking process. But sometimes it just seems like more work than it's worth...

Like on the day I decided to make lemon blueberry bread. I don't make it that often, but Mom made tons of it for my wedding, so it has a lot of good memories attached to it. Plus, it's really yummy. In a moment of brilliance, I figured we 3 could whip up a double batch of blueberry bread before I got dinner on the table. I know all you moms of preschoolers are laughing about now. But everything was going pretty well, until I started squeezing the lemons. After laboriously juicing the too-small lemons I had, I finally had enough. That's when Claire leaned over to grab something Isaac had, Isaac batted her hand away, and ... CRASH! Down went my lemon juice on the floor, into a million pieces went my measuring cup.

But I"m working on being patient, right? And kids are kids, right? So I heroically sweep up the glass, get out the mop, clean the floor, and head to the fridge for another bunch of lemons. Isaac, convinced now that the purchase of a new measuring cup is going to put us in the poorhouse, is too intimidated to cook any longer. But Claire forges on. She is motivated by the reward of licking the beater at the end.

After juicing another batch of lemons, I remind Claire once again, "DON'T TOUCH THE LEMON JUICE." And she tries, really she does. But she lost her balance on the chair, steadied herself on the counter--and wouldn't you know it--the measuring cup. Down goes the juice. Did I mention that I had just mopped the floor earlier that day?

ARGH! But I mop the floor again, look at the clock, which reads, youreallyshouldbeinthemiddleofmakingdinnerrightnow, and get out another 120,00 lemons. This time I don't let go of the measuring cup for even a second, and the juice miraculously makes it's way into the bread. Victory! Except that Claire leans forward, pushes the chair a bit on the slick floor, and faceplants on the tile.

Those are the days where I just have to laugh, because the day is getting too ridiculous to do anything else. And I make sure, when Vance bites into the bread he loves, that he knows how much it cost :).

37 Weeks

I knew I should have gotten Vance to take a few pictures about a month ago, when I was still feeling cute and pregnant. Right now, I mostly feel ready to explode. But that's okay, because I hopefully don't have that much longer...right, Baby?! Do we have a deal?

Even though I feel massive and increasingly like an 85 year old woman trying to heave myself off of furniture without any functioning abdominals, I feel pretty healthy overall. I'm still trying to work out as much as I can, and we're swimming a lot in the pool. We are all very impatient to meet this new little Whitaker, although I am starting to have bouts of intimidation at the thought of the impending craziness. I've felt a bit overwhelmed with the parenting challenges that I already have, so adding another baby on to that can be pretty scary. I'm trying to prepare myself for a rough transition period--but after going from 1 to 2, I do know that it is just that: a period.

I already can't imagine our family without this new little mystery girl, and I can't wait for all the cuddles a few weeks will bring my way!

La Playa

This is Florida, after all, so when we get a chance, we head down for some white sand, blue water, and free fun.

Teaching the kids how to make drip castles was our latest activity. They really got into it!

Summer on the Porch

Although Isaac still insists (on a nearly daily basis) that when he grows up, he will be "a farmer and a daddy", he still has plenty of room in his heart and schedule for construction. He found this foam block in the trash and went to town. It took days to get all those little foam balls out of the lanai, but it was worth it :).

And speaking of finding time, Isaac has plenty to spare. He often wants to go swimming right when I'm getting dinner on. The resulting conversation usually goes something like this:

Isaac: Mama, can we go swimming now?
Me: Honey, I don't have time right now...I'm making dinner. I'm sorry, honey.
Isaac: But I have time! We can go swimming! I have 5 pounds of time!
Claire, these days, is more occupied by serenading anyone in a 2-mile radius with her latest extemporaneous vocal compositions. My shyer child comes completely out of her shell, even around strangers, if she is holding this miraculous device in her hand. It doesn't hurt to wear the "dancing dress" (the ultra-touristy flamenco dress we got her in Spain--a total hit). She's got lungs, that one. And remarkably good pitch for a 2 year old. She may have a future in the performing arts :)

But her fortissimo arias tone down into hushed lullabies when she is putting her babies to bed. She loves her babies these days, and is constantly seen rocking, singing, walking, and comforting them. She sings them her favorite songs ("Jesus Loves Me" and the "Gospel Song"), pats them and says, "Don't cry, sweet-heart" when something scary is going on, and changes lots of diapers. She's also quite the disciplinarian. It looks like she has another future in store for her as well...

I'm Back

No, we didn't move to Timbuktu, or get drowned in all our FL rain, or have a baby, or fall of the face of the earth...

But I did lose my camera card reader--and with it, all motivation to post. However, I finally hauled myself, my larger-than-life baby bump, and 3 kids (one was borrowed, for all you math majors out there) out to Best Buy in the pouring--and I mean POURING--rain to buy a new card reader. So I'll put up a few pictures from our summer, and try to catch up on life before the next baby arrives and chaos descends again :)

Isaac's Prayers

My boy is growing up. I see it all the time, now...he's thinking and talking and interacting on a different level. It's fun. It's intimidating. Because now that I feel somewhat comfortable dealing with the needs of infants, I have a toddler and a preschooler on my hands. They're always one step ahead of my competency :).

One of the best parts about Isaac's age right now is having more significant spiritual conversations with him. We've started encouraging him to have his own devotional time if he wakes up while we are having ours. He sits on the couch and looks at his children's Bible while we read and pray. Obviously he's not getting a ton out of it, but I do think he's starting to understand that God needs to be the first priority in his day.

About a month ago, Vance was reading the crucifixion narrative to Isaac at bedtime--they talked about why Jesus had to die, and what he accomplished for us. As he was putting Isaac to bed, Vance asked if he was ready to pray. Isaac said that he wanted to pray by himself. So Vance left, put his ear to the door, and heard Isaac pray, "Jesus, please save me from hell. Thank you for dying on the cross for me so I wouldn't be punished."

Wow. That's all I could think when Vance told me.

Is their a "moment" when a child becomes a believer? Is it important to know it? How can you tell when a child understands enough to repent of his sin and put all his hope in Christ? These are big topics, and lots of books have been written about them. For our family, I don't want to put too much emphasis on one defining moment (he wasn't an angel the next day or anything!). At the same time, I would hate to "despise the day of small things" and blow his prayer off. Instead, I have found myself praying, "God, hear his prayer. Give him eternal life with you. Give him eyes to see you." And I've been rejoicing that, young as he is, he gets it. Not everything, of course--wait, neither do I! But he knows that he does wrong. He knows his sin has to be addressed. He knows he needs a new heart. And he knows Jesus came to rescue him so he could go to heaven one day.

Time will tell the fruit, but for now I'm grateful for moments like that one. And I'm excited about getting to talk about significant, life-changing things with my (not so!) little people.

Kids' Top Baby Names

In no particular order, the kids have suggested:

1. Azalea (the baby doll's name)
2. Fluffy (!)
3. Claire (guess who chose that one :)
4. Baby Terri

Hmmm.....any other ideas? :)

It's a ....

We had our big ultrasound yesterday! It was really fun (despite being really early in the morning), especially because it was the first ultrasound the kids could participate in--without being the subjects :). They were really excited about meeting the new one, and Isaac talked about the baby the WHOLE drive to the hospital.

Everything looked great, Baby checked out exactly with my due date, is a healthy 13 oz., and is a--wait for it--GIRL! I told the tech that we wanted to know, but I wanted to try and figure it out for myself first. Our little lady showed us her gender last, and she was a little wiggly by that point, but I got a pretty decent view and gasped, "It's a girl!" I was so surprised. I had really started assuming that it was a boy. I don't know exactly why I kept thinking that, but I did. So seeing girl parts on the screen was kind of a shocker for me. Still is, a little!

I turned to Isaac and said, "Isaac, you're going to have a little sister!" To which he wailed, "I didn't want to have a SISTER!!!! I wanted a GIRL!!!!!"

I'm still not sure what he meant by that. But it was pretty funny :).

Being the mother of not one but two girls is starting to make me realize what a big responsibility I have as a mother. Somehow I have to model what it looks like to be a godly woman for them. Intimidating. And what about competition, inferiority complexes, endless comparison, estrogen spikes?! Yeesh. But intimidation aside, I am so excited to get to raise sisters--I'm looking forward to all the talking and teaching and giggling and slumber-partying.

But first things first--mostly I'm looking forward to cuddling a sweet little lady in a few months!

Chicken Stock Epiphany

I know, I know. The language is a bit strong...an epiphany over chicken stock?!

But if you've read much on nutritious cooking, a good homemade stock pretty much gets #1 on the list of must-haves. It's full of minerals and valuable electrolytes, it's easy on your digestive system, promotes digestive healing, reduces allergies, helps your body get every bit of value out of the protein you eat, boosts your immune system, and is frugal and easy to make. Basically, it's a wonder food. You just have to know how to make it right.

My mom taught me how to make chicken stock when I was a teenager, and I had always used a relatively similar process. However, the nutrition experts said to simmer the stock for 6-24 hours to get the full nutrition from the marrow, and by then, my stock smelled so overcooked I didn't even want to taste it.

But I have overcome. And you can too. (if you care, that is). The secret is to simmer the bones for 6-24 hours, but add the veggies in only at the very end. It was the vegetables that were getting nastily overcooked.

This is my new method (my apologies to recipe lovers everywhere--just apply this method to your favorite stock recipe if you are into following rules and that kind of thing):

- Soak chicken bones in cold water to generously cover, along with a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar, for an hour or so. (The vinegar helps get the minerals and gelatin out of the bones and into your broth).
- Simmer on low heat all day, for 6-24 hours.
- An hour or two before you're taking it off, add two quartered onions (with the peel on), a couple celery stalks, several chunked carrots, parsley, salt, and whatever herbs you desire in the pot.
- Drain broth into a large bowl, cool to room temperature, and refrigerate overnight. You'll know sweet success if your broth has turned into a gelatin--this means you've gotten all the good stuff! You can skim the fat, but it's a good-for you kind of unsaturated fat, so I usually keep it.
- I freeze my broth in two- and four-cup portions, and make an ice cube tray of broth cubes for those times where you just need a 1/4 c. of broth.

I am now making stock every time I get a good bag of leftover chicken bones saved up in my freezer, which is about every week or two. Since it's so nutritious, I substitute broth in for the water in casseroles, rice, stew, and even pasta sauces. It tastes 10 times better than Swansons, and is infinitely more nutritious.

Just had to share my latest culinary victory!

Convos, Take Two:

A few more conversations from the last few days:

Isaac, to Vance on a walk, just after Vance had beaten him in a race (Isaac was biking):
"Daddy, you're full of slowness. I'm full of fastness!"

(He's confident. Not a very good grip on reality, but the confidence he has in spades :)

Isaac, to me, as I spilled a good bit of pudding cake batter on the counter, in a disappointed voice:

"Mama, I'm not very impressed."

(do I get at least an E for effort? I was making dessert for a weekday meal, for crying out loud! That almost never happens! :)

They just keep coming at me...

Talking with Little People

One of the best parts of my job has to be the crazy and curious little conversations I have with my little ones during the day. They frequently say such crazy things, or make me say things I never thought would come out of my mouth. I know I've posted some of these on facebook, but since this is my "official" family record, they need to be taken down here as well...

At dinner:
Vance: "Isaac, would you pray tonight?"
Isaac: "Okay. GOD!! (big sigh) Stop the hateness!! Give us loveness! Amen."

Again, at dinner (wherein all the items on his plate are things he likes, but my arrival to the table veggie in hand was met with a cacophony of "BROCCOLI!!!!!!" from my kids..as if I never feed them green things):
Isaac: "Mama, can I have some more broccoli?"
Me: "Um, sweetie, you haven't eaten anything else yet. Eat some potato, and then you can have more broccoli."

At bedtime (wherein Isaac wanted me to put him to bed instead of Daddy):
Isaac: "I don't like you very much."
Vance: "Oh. Well, I love you. Do you love me?"
Isaac: "Yeah."
V: "Do you like me?"
I: "No."
V: "Oh. Well, I like you, Isaac."
I: (sighs) "yeah, me too."

Talking about the new baby:
Me: "Isaac, do you think the baby is a boy or a girl?"
Isaac: "I think it's a girl"
Me: "Why do you think that?"
I: "Because I like girls. Girls are my favorite!"
(Lock up your daughters, ladies :)

Claire hasn't come out with such extended strange talks, but she has her own slew of cute-isms. She is the most encouraging two-year old I know. She is constantly exclaiming over things I do, saying, "Good job, Mama! Good job!" She told me that yesterday when I was making dinner: "Good job, Mama! You are a good cooker!" (I'm sure the fact that we were having pasta for dinner did not sway her judgment in the least :)

She also likes to call me "honey" or "Terri" at random times. It's particularly sweet and unexpected when she calls me honey or sweetie. She will do that to Isaac too, and if he is crying or whining she will run to find him, calling, "What's wrong, honey?"

Claire wants to be a big girl, and tries to keep up with her big brother as best she can. Isaac has been sounding out lots of things lately, and she's trying to do the same. After a car ride full of Isaac's " B says, b, b, Bicycle!", Claire decided to try: "B says b, b, stroller!

She's almost got it, I think.

Protected...

that's how we feel tonight. And a little shaken up.

We were driving the bridge over the Bay tonight after church when we heard a sound like a gunshot. I whipped my head around to see Isaac's window splinter into a thousand shards, and then Isaac and Claire both started screaming. As Vance pulled over, I realized that Isaac was holding a tennis-ball sized chunk of concrete next to his face.

It was scary, what with all the screaming and the flying glass and the blood (which turned out to be from Isaac's nosebleed 20 min before). But when the glass settled, we realized how protected we'd been. Somehow that chunk of concrete came directly through Isaac's window and hit him in the face, yet he had nothing but a little rash from the abrasion. No blood...not even a scratch. Thank you, Lord.

In typical fashion, Isaac bounced back almost immediately--it shows you the power of childlike faith that he could immediately calm down because God was his protector--but Claire took on the fright and had a much harder time calming down. We drove home a little slower, with the window blown open, suddenly much more aware of how helpless we are to truly protect anyone we love. And suddenly much more grateful for the sovereign King who is able to do all that we cannot.

Strawberry Fields Forever

Well, that's what it feels like, at least. We've had strawberries coming at us since the end of November. Now that we're nearing the end of the season (and I have finally purchased a freezer for bulk storage), I'm trying to put up a few more flats of berries for smoothies. And then I realized--embarrassingly enough--that I hadn't yet taken the kids out strawberry picking! They've been out in the fields several times, and done some impromptu picking, but I hadn't given them the job of picking. Until today :)

Picking strawberries revealed my kids' ages and personalities. Claire rolled around in the sand, eating any berry of any color she could get her hands on, putting a few indiscriminate berries in the bucket occasionally. Isaac refused to eat any ("Mama, you can't eat them until they're washed!"), and earnestly asked me if every.single.berry he picked was ripe and ready. He's my rule-keeper :) At the end, though, desire got the better of him, and the berries ended up in his mouth more than the bucket.

Claire didn't feel the need to resist :)

It's not a good picture, but it's the only pregnancy photo I've got right now, so please excuse the squinty eyes. Baby and me at 15 weeks--still at the "girl, you eat too many cookies" stage. Early baby bumps, it turns out, are for short people, no matter how many pregnancies you've had :). Maybe next month I'll have something more definitive to show for all the work I'm doing ...

Thoughts on #3...

I suppose some of you might want to know more details than simply that I resemble a can of spaghetti sauce right now :)...

Baby Whitaker's estimated time of arrival will be somewhere around September 20th. That puts me at 14 weeks, and I'm starting to feel significantly better. It's funny how each baby treats your body differently. I've definitely been more sick this time (it's the only time I've ever lost weight while pregnant), but not as tired as I was with Isaac. By this time, too, I'm much more in tune with my body, and I feel like I am aware of every.single.twinge. Of which there are many :).

This may very well be my last pregnancy (although not necessarily our last baby), so I'm trying to savor every moment of it. Even so, everything felt pretty surreal until I heard the heartbeat a couple of weeks ago, and then it finally hit me: there's a PERSON in there! Pretty exciting! I held a friend's newborn this week, and that brought back a flood of memories. It's such a privilege to get to grow and nurture a little one...and I get more and more excited about the idea of meeting this tiny one.

Although I am looking forward more and more to being a mom of three, it's pretty interesting to note the shift in public opinion going the other direction. Of course most of our family and friends are excited for us--but occasionally someone will give me a bit of a hesitant response. Funny how in America today one child is too few, two is just right, perfect, and enough, three is going a little overboard and anything more is just plain INSANE. :) I can't tell you how many people have said, "Congratulations!........sooooo, how many kids are you guys going to have?!?"

They must be concerned about overpopulation :)

We, however, are over the moon. Isaac loves to talk about how big the baby is, and it's so fun to share the little developmental milestones with him. Claire is in love with babies, and she was adoration incarnate when we visited our friends' newborn, oohing over his tiny ears and head. I know they are going to have so much fun with this little person. And I'm (crazily enough) not really worried about our adjustment to a family of 5. I'm sure there will be plenty of time for panic around month 8.

I honestly don't care if it's a girl or a boy...either way will be wonderful. I do, however, think it's a boy, and Vance lights up like a first round draft pick when I say that. It's obvious which way he leans. Isaac is adamant that it's a boy (of course). We shall see in about 6 weeks!

yep. That's me! Coming September 2010!

My Four Year Old

We are praising God for our raisin-eating, tractor-loving, train-obsessed, tool-wielding, orange-picking, loud-talking, guitar-playing, active, happy, passionate boy that God has given us!

I've been thinking back to his actual birth-day today, and the months leading up to it--how I was praying for him and felt like God was telling me that he would be someone with deep joy. That was part of the reason we named him Isaac. Well, I smile now when I think of that, because it is so true! He is such an intense little person! He wears some people out, I imagine, but I love his energy for life.

I've also been thinking about his heart...the surgery-requiring defect he was diagnosed with before he was born, the NICU staff whisking my firstborn away from me right after his birth, Vance following Isaac, me being left alone to wait and wonder, talking on the phone with Dad and seeing Vance walk in the room beaming, hearing him say, "his heart's perfect. Perfect." and crying with joy, but also feeling totally unsuprised because of the faith I had that God would heal him. Most of the time we forget about his heart now, but that's because of the healing he experienced before his birth.

I am so excited to see what God is going to do in Isaac's fifth year. His brain is exploding with questions and interesting thoughts these days, and he is learning obedience and respectfulness and helpfulness and patience. It is such a privelige (even when it is an exhausting one) to be the one to explain God and the world to him. The best job ever, and I can't say enough grateful words to express how much I love my sweet boy.

Gasparilla

Today we had one of our first experiences with a genuine Tampa tradition: Gasparilla! It's a city holiday that celebrates Jose Gaspar, one of the last pirates to terrorize the west Florida coast. Of course, legend has it that he buried untold treasure somewhere around her (maybe our backyard?). He is Tampa's excuse to have a bang-up pirate extravaganza. The "adult" celebration is next weekend, but the kids' festivities were today.

We started out with flybys of old WWII bombers, a very cool parachute landing from the U.S. Special Ops.

The kids got pretty bored waiting for the floats and the bead throwers (pretty much the main event of the parade is the dozens of beaded necklaces--pirate booty?-- thrown from the floats). They blew through my healthy almonds and raisins in about 30 seconds...so Daddy came to the rescue with a 3 gallon bag of kettle corn. What's a momma to do besides let them ruin their dinner?

The obligatory "act like you love each other" photo. Although they weren't that excited about the picture-taking, Isaac LOOOOVED the parade. He was screaming and jumping and waving and begging for necklaces and having the time of his life. Claire was not so gregarious, but she did wave to the floats, and received her fair share of necklaces as well.

They have built the only modern, fully-rigged pirateship around (so I was told). They dock it in the Bay year round for your viewing pleasure, and then it fires cannonballs at the crowd for Gasparilla. I shudder to think how much that pirate ship cost, but it was pretty cool! The pirates have now defeated the city, and next week the mayor will hand over the keys to the city, and more pirate festivities will ensue.

We ate dinner at a friend-of-a-friends's house (who lives right on the bay!), and walked back along the shore while the "Piratetechnics" exploded overhead. What a night!

Reupholstering for Dummies

There are so many projects to get done around here, and so little motivation! A lot of that has to do with the projects that I don't really know how to do...the intimidation factor has a way of slowing you down. Fortunately, this reupholstery project was as easy as I had heard! I hope that gives me motivations for the 1520 other projects left on my to do list.

I got the chair from Goodwill for about $10. The heavy-duty fabric was much pricier, but I got it for 60% off at Calico Corners, and I'll (hopefully) use the rest of the bolt end to make a lumbar pillow or a throw pillow. It only took a screwdriver, a staple gun, and about an hour of my time.

I can't believe I forgot to take a before picture, but it was a dusty-rose brocade, which is why no one else had snatched it up, I think. I didn't even rip the old brocade off...I just put the foam and new fabric right on top.

I don't know about you, but I'm all about makeover projects that take less than a naptime to complete :)

Happy Birthday, Claire!

Look who is 2!!! Just like last year, Claire celebrated her birthday with family, pasta, and hamming it up. She loooved being the center of attention, and flirted with anyone who made eye contact with her all dinner long. But the real party started once she saw the candles and realized that everyone was singing just for her.

Talk about delight! She even made an excellent attempt at blowing out her candles.

She has been changing so much in the last couple of months. Up until just a month ago, she wanted very little to do with books. Whereas Isaac had been into books since he was about 9 months old, Claire just had too much to do to sit still. But just in the last month, that has started to change. She's really getting into reading, and that makes her mama very happy!

She's also breaking out the full sentences, and more complicated syntax. Although she's quieter than Isaac on first contact, she has quite a bit to say after she warms up to you. Some of her favorite words right now (and mine) are "Sis-mas wites" (Christmas lights), "Taw-babies" (strawberries), and "Baby Soup" (bathing suit). She loves her daddy's new profession, and would eat strawberries all day every day if she could. She loves food, and is very adept with her fork and spoon. She loves to sing (quite loudly), and I'm starting to wonder if she's going to be the next family vocalist. She provides BGVs for a lot of the songs we play in the car, and she regales us with "ABC's" and "Baa Baa, Black Sheep" all day long. She still loves to be held, and wants to be in the center of it all as long as she can be close to someone she trusts. Although she has earned the nickname, "Clairedevil" for her reckless attempts to break a bone or try something outside of her age level, she is also very cautious around almost any kind of animal, and some people.

Claire is no shrinking violet...she has to keep up with Isaac and does so without any problems whatsoever. We're working on not grabbing, patience, and obeying the first time.

Claire has definitely taken the place of cutest Whitaker in the household, and she is a joy to live with. We love you, sweet girl, and can't wait to see what is in store for you this next year!