Hidden Joy

I just finished vacuuming my entire house for the second day in a row.  There is something so very wrong with that.  Actually, B.daddy did it yesterday, because he is amazing.  Also, it may have had something to do with the smoke coming out of my ears every time I stated another chore I HAD TO DO ALL BY MYSELF BECAUSE NO ONE AROUND HERE DOES ANYTHING AT ALL AND I ALWAYS HAVE TO DO IT ALL!
ALL.    BY.     MYSELF!!!
*breathe...1...2...3...breathe...1...2...3....*
Of course I didn't say any of that out loud--there's no way I would get away with that.  Nor did I think those things literally in my mind.  But B.daddy could see the frigid glare that precedes the hours-long "discussion" we sometimes have about "helping out around the house."  On these glorious occasions, I sit stone cold, not saying a thing, while that little rant is on auto-repeat in my brain.  So I say nothing--which he loves--until the Devil Woman finally gets tired and lets me think for myself.  Then I'm perfectly agreeable and apologetic and compassionate.  Right, babe?

So he vacuumed yesterday.

My husband rarely thinks it is funny or called for when I cuss.  I almost always think it is both.   (Thankfully I have a friend who loves it when I cuss, so if I need to I just text her.)  However, when we were laying in bed last night and I acknowledged that I'd been super cranky and bitchy all day he couldn't agree fast enough.  He even repeated it out loud in his own voice, which I think helped him in his emotional processing of the day.  I was glad I could help him in that way.
But I digress.  This little morsel of literary gold is, amazingly enough, not about how bitchy I can be.  (On very, very, very rare occasions.)
The reason for the vacuuming was blue spruce needles.  Several years ago, after we had recently bought an artificial Christmas tree "to save money and time", I convinced my Money Maker that we should again start spending $50+ and an entire day, every year to get a natural--otherwise known as A REAL--Christmas tree.  Naturally, (see what I did there) this means we have slippery, two inch needles all over and in random parts of our house from late November to early September.  October is a glorious month.  During that month we have wet, dead leaves from the entire neighborhood tracked in my already suffering entryway and kitchen.  But I digress.  Again.
Since Sweet Pea loves to put everything in her mouth these days I try to keep the floors reasonably clean.  That's a lot for me to handle.  But I try.  So Day Two of Vacuuming was a must.

I tell ya' something about these evergreen needles, though.  I like them.  Yeah, it makes it look like I haven't vacuumed since December, but there's a whole lot more in my house to suggest that!  When I see them I don't think about housekeeping or my failures as such.  I remember our last Christmas.  I remember the tree, the ornaments, (the ones we broke this time), the gifts we got the kids, (the ones they only played with for a day), the pj's we were all wearing, (which I'm still wearing at this moment), the desperate dash to make the coffee before we start opening presents.  I remember the dark, tired evenings B.daddy and I tried with all our might to do our Advent reading, the kids' whoops and laughter when we actually did, because they could make another ornament for the Jesse Tree.  Most of all, because this is Me, I remember the smell of the tree.  I savored walking by the "Big Daddy" tree in the living room, the *Charlie Brown* Jesse tree in the prayer nook and smelling the fresh, clean green so many times throughout those exhausting days.  Smells are quite possibly the most important thing in my entire sensory universe.  The only reason I ever learned to bake was because I wanted the smell of freshly baked bread to warm my home on a regular basis.  The only reason I ever do laundry is because I love the smell of fabric softener on clean cotton.  So smelling an honest to goodness Christmas tree in my house fulfills every indescribable hope I've ever had about creating warm, whole traditions that will hopefully carry our children through this cold, broken world.
These needles remind me from January to September that we are trying.  Our muscles burn and our hearts ache, but we are trying.  We are doing the work.  We are making the sacrifices.  We are already reaping rewards.
I believe every generation's plea and pledge is this: That our children will know more joy and hope and freedom than we ever did.  Yes, we dealt with a lot of crap growing up.  But our parents dealt with it, too.  And their parents did as well.  The thing is, if we are present....if we are trying, each generation improves upon the last.  Despite the mistakes they and we have all made, we have all tried, we are all trying.  And we keep trying.  If we all just keep trying, our children--this precious, pudgy, brand new generation will know more.
They will know more Love.
Yes.  There is no way they will not know hurt, pain, despair, sorrow, betrayal.  But they can also know Love.  Which puts all that pain in it's proper place.
Love does not have an arrival point.  It does not have an ending.  There is no, "Okay, you're done being loved.  See ya' next year."
We never stop trying.
Nor does it have a beginning.  This Love did not begin with me or my husband.  It did not begin with our parents or theirs.  Love comes from something so far beyond our wildest imagination, it can drive us crazy.  Or it can drive us sad.  Or lonely.  Or ravenous.  There is some element of So Much More in every Love experience we have.  The longing goes from behind to before where we cannot even see.  Anything but Love drives us so far in the opposite direction.
Love simply Is.  It Is more than us.
And in our skin and bones, Love does.
If I can open up my terrified heart to allow Love to Be in me....even though I feel shamed or selfish or lazy or bitchy or busy or distracted....if I can just breathe.
Just be still.
Let Love Be here.
Yes, with you.  The whole reason you can let Love be with someone like you is because Love is Love.  It is kind and compassionate and does not discriminate against the messed up.  Because Love is what it is, it wants to engulf you within itself so you can really, truly breathe for the first time.  Feel freedom for the first time over and over again.  Breathe.  Be still.

Now, pour that Love out.

That's what these pesky little needles remind me of each time one emerges from a crack in a floorboard or a crevasse in a threshold.  On a sweltering, July afternoon or a fearful, first day of school, I remember that we are trying.  My husband and I are so often confused and tired and worried.  But let's just be still for a minute.  Let's just breathe.  How about we let the Love that wants to help, come in and help.

Christmas morning, just the six of us.

Sharing Is Caring

Very excited about all the unwrapping.

Day after Christmas Shermee and Nana were here.

This girl enjoys life more completely than anyone I know.

And she makes sure we enjoy it too.

He was so happy to have a 5th grader's binder.  So cute!

Sweet Nana!  Love her!

And this is just Sweet Pea being her cute, messy self.  :)

Pumpkin Rum Cake with Penuche Icing

Every October I start going a little Pumpkin Crazy.  For some reason EVERYTHING I make must contain pumpkin.  My husband isn't crazy about my craze, because he hates any baked good with the pumpkin spice taste.  He sees me spending hours baking delicious things he will not want to eat.  Sorry, babe.  You can have your cake and eat it too in December when everything will be super decadent and chocolate covered.  

I think the spicy smell emitting from the oven makes home feel so very much more like home.  And pumpkin itself is an amazing ingredient for adding rich, buttery depth to something.  One day a couple years ago, I actually spent an entire day making pumpkin cookies, pumpkin monkey bread, and a pumpkin yeast roll--in the shape of a pumpkin!!  I was just a teeny bit stressed out at the time.  The baking helped.  Baking always helps.

This year I started with White Bean Pumpkin Chili.  I've already declared its immaculate wonderfulness in a previous post, so I'll just stop with a gorgeous picture of the luscious dish with our end-of-summer PeeGee blooms.

Ever notice how Trader Joe's always seems to know exactly what you need when you walk through those doors?  It really is eerie.  They know what you want before you even know you want it.  Then you're walking down the aisle and you're all like, WHAT!? Is that even a thing?  I have to have it!  Ten of them, because they won't be here next month!  This particular visit all I needed was a yummy $4 bottle of red wine and a box of pumpkin cornbread mix.  This meal happened when I was running on fumes and absolutely no energy.  But we had already ordered in too many times, and my heart needed to know my family was eating something delicious and real.  So I made this super easy chowder and threw the cornbread together.  The kids LOVED it.  They said it was like eating cake for supper.  I agreed it was a lot like cake.  I enjoyed it, but it was very sweet.  It would be better paired with a more savory meal: roast chicken, red-peppered potatoes, and slightly salted broccoli or asparagus.  

Last week I made my first pumpkin pasta dish.  It was going so well, and I was drowning in my own drool until the very last step of the recipe called for cinnamon and nutmeg.  I trusted the recipe, which I never do, and I immediately regretted it.  I put so much work into that dish and it was really really good at every taste test.  But those two spices made it absolutely confusing.  I realized that when it comes to savory dishes pumpkin should be treated exclusively as a squash--no sweet spices.  My tongue was all, This sausage is so amazing.  And the pasta!  Oh I do love this sauc---wait. Oh my gosh!  What is that?  And then my brain was all, You have to eat it all, you recipe-trusting-fool.  No one else likes it either, and you worked too hard on it to turn back now.  We stomached as much as we could and moved on with life.  I'll try again when my taste buds have reset.

And this is what we've all been waiting for:  my recipe for Pumpkin Rum Cake w/ Penuche Icing.  If you're wondering what Penuche is, you have not yet truly lived.  It's a butter and brown sugar based fudge.  It is indescribable.  I've made it many times, but twice it was ruined by crystalization.  Those disappoints nearly caused me to abandon all that I hold to be good and true in this world.  It is that profoundly delicious.

A few years ago I was given my first Southern Living cookbook.  Such good stuff.  Every year since I got it I had tried making this one particular cake, and every single year the attempt would end in a fire-breathing, cussing rant. (Yes, I have a temper. Yes, I hate to fail. What about it?) There were just a few parts that did not work for me, but I was in love with the bones of it.  So I changed this and that and came up with something that did finally work for me.  And, oh how it worked!

This is the best part:

You begin by putting pumpkin and rum together to consummate their blissful relationship.

Then while they are sitting on your counter, calling to you in their warm, deep voices, you go about the task of assembling the cake batter. (Resisting the urge to pick up that measuring cup and chug it!)

So here's the recipe:

Pumpkin Rum Cake with Penuche Icing

(Okay, so maybe cleaning the penuche bowl WITH YOUR TONGUE is the best part.  But I digress.)

Ingredients:

1 cup softened butter

2 cups granulated sugar

2 cups brown sugar

5 large eggs

---

1 can pumpkin puree (about 2 cups)

1/2 cup rum

---

3 cups all-purpose flour

2 tsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. salt

2 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 tsp. each of ginger, allspice, & nutmeg

*Grease & flour--or use parchment paper--three 9-inch, round cake pans.  Preheat oven to 350º.

1) As I said, join the pumpkin and rum together and give them a little privacy.

2) Combine dry ingredients and set aside.

3) Cream butter; add sugars and cream well; add eggs one at a time. Mix until homogeneous.

4) Alternately add dry mixture and pumpkin mixture to the mixing bowl.  Mix well.

5) Divide evenly between the three cake pans, and bake for 30-45 minutes. (I know that's a big window, but this was the first time I made this recipe.  I don't remember exactly how long my oven needed, but I started checking it around 30 minutes and went from there.)

Penuche Icing:

1 1/2 cups brown sugar

1 cup heavy cream

1/2 cup butter

3 tsp. rum

2 1/4 cups powdered sugar

1) In a medium saucepan, *stirring constantly* gently heat brown sugar, cream, and butter until butter melts.  Turn the heat up, medium-high, and bring mixture to a boil.  Boil for 3 minutes.  Remove from heat and add rum.

2) Place powdered sugar in separate mixing bowl and pour the hot mixture in. (The cool bowl will help the icing thicken sooner.)  Stir with a wire whisk for a very long time.  How long will depend on the temperature of your kitchen as well as your climate.  Within 10-15 minutes, the icing should have thickened up to the point that you can pour it over each cake layer without it being too thin and running all over the cake plate.  If you've cooled it for 25 minutes and it's still not thickening, start adding small amounts of powdered sugar to do the trick.  This is the most painstaking part of the cake, but it is the most delicious!

3) Place bottom layer on cake plate and pour 1/3 of the icing over, gently encouraging it to spread to the edges.  Repeat with each layer.

Voila!  And Enjoy!  And you can thank me later.

Highs And Lows

Sometimes at dinner we'll play "Highs & Lows" as a way to talk about our day.  We share the best parts and the worst parts.  Sometimes we simply name them, and sometimes we talk further about how they made us feel. So I guess this is kind of like the "Highs & Lows" of the last several months.

I'll start with my low.  I've been suffering from postpartum depression.  The first four months with Sweet Pea were very peaceful and happy.  I savored every warm, newborn moment.  I wrapped up our school year with force and resolve and a great plan for the coming year.  I thought that for once I wouldn't have to deal with PPD.  But then it hit, and it took me a while to realize what was happening.
The kids were amazing.  We had a very simple summer.  My one goal everyday was to get them out of the house.  We did parks, museums, the beach, splash pools...any place I could just strap my baby on, stand quietly, and watch the three kids having fun.  I could manage that.  I could manage to smile and wave, and maybe from afar they wouldn't hear their laughter echo in the vacuous hole of my chest.

About two weeks before school was to begin, I realized I had not the strength to carry the burden of education.  Not only that, but I had to learn to prioritize my health and rest.  (A very hard lesson I am still working on.)  That meant I had to make a very difficult decision to let go of my lofty educational vision for a little while and trust our public elementary school to care for and teach my first three babies.  A hard decision but a peaceful one.  All three have excellent teachers whom they love!  All of the other teachers and staff we've met have been incredibly helpful, warm, and enthusiastic.  Although Gizmo and The Rascal miss the hours of freedom to imagine and get filthy that homeschooling allowed us, they still enjoy their school days.  Li'l Bit is absolutely in love with school!  I knew she would be.  In our homeschool world she could read for hours upon hours everyday.  She was disappointed when she realized how school life infringed upon that, but she's adjusted. Fifth grade isn't the easiest year to first experience public school with all it's little dramas and nuances.  But she is holding her own and finding her place.

I am indeed prioritizing my wellness.  I have the support I need to get through this dark season.  Every morning when I put Sweet Pea down for her nap and I sit in the quiet to pray and meditate, I am overcome with thankfulness for this space to heal.  Not surprisingly, the day goes by very quickly and I could fill every single moment with work and plans.  I do have to guard the hours and choose my activities wisely.  There are so many ways I can be involved with the kids' school, projects I could tackle at home, and friends I could serve.  Daily I must bring myself back to my list of priorities and spend my energy from the top down.  If my energy lasts to #4 great; if I can only get to #1 great.  All of my cheerleaders--with B.daddy in the front row--keep reminding me that this is time for me to rest.  All I have to do is rest. For perhaps the first time in my life, I am able to be kind and compassionate toward myself and stop trying to live up to unrealistic standards.  This has been a frighteningly dark season, but B.daddy and I are hopeful that the painful refining is bringing about greater freedom for my future.

Now on to the fun part--pictures!!

If the morning is nice, Sweet Pea and I will take a walk after seeing the kids off.

It is such a blessing to be able to play with this sweet girl and watch her grow and learn!  She's crawling and pulling herself up; she loves to read books with bright, literal illustrations; she's got great giggles and snuggles; and she LOVES to eat A LOT! :)

She's got great thighs.

The kids had a super fun Halloween weekend.  Stake and Jeph (more pseudonyms to protect the innocent) helped them carve their first ever pumpkins, I got to be in Gizmo's classroom to help decorate pumpkins, the kids had a Halloween Bash at school, and the next day they rode on the school float in the Halloween parade.

The Rascal (formerly known as Ladybug) got to dress up @ school as her favorite literary character on Halloween.

Our first field trip!!  The Rascal's grade walked to the library and City Hall then had "lunch with the Mayor."  A dear friend looked after Sweet Pea so I was able to chaperon this trip.  So fun!  And it was very interesting for me--as a homeschooler at heart--to meet her classmates, watch them interact with each other and adults, and observe the teachers keeping 60+ kids alive and well-behaved while we walked all over town!

I had to crop out her buddies.  There are, understandably, so many more rules to keep up with when you put so many different kids together.  But this is The Rascal w/ The Mayor.  I'm pretty sure he's okay with his image being public.

Gizmo finally lost his snaggle tooth and carved his pumpkin to match. :)

He's not a huge fan of the homework.  Sometimes it's not a big deal, and he cranks it out in no time.  One day he forgot to bring his homework pack home, so I gave him extra homework as a consequence.  Well, he completed that and then pulled out the math book he would have been doing at home this year and completed like 20 pages.  Other nights he fights the simplest, easiest assignment and that drives me absolutely batty. B.daddy has to come in as the closer and get the job done.

I love this picture of Li'l Bit.  Even though it's a bit blurry--and she smeared soot on her face--it shows how very grown up she is becoming--not just pretending to be, but actually being. ;)  Stake built a great fire and kept the kids from burning their hair off while Jeph helped B.daddy with man things and I made chili and cornbread for everyone.  Stake always has super fun ideas.  This night: build a flaming torch!  It was a great night.  And nobody got injured.

My tiny, little girl walking off to the 5th grade.  She is definitely one of the smallest kids in her class.  And she is fearless.

Parent Involvement At Its Best:

B.daddy chaperoned the school float for the parade.  He has absolutely been my super hero during this dark season.  He has shown up for every school event--sometimes alone, when I was too sick to do it--he's rushed home to care for me on the really bad days, and he has been the greatest champion for my healing and wellness.  All that and he knows every word to every Prince song ever written.  (Even the dirty ones.)

This is me going a little overboard for the PTO bake sale.  But I mean, come on!  I got to bake for something AND it made money for the kids' school?  How could I not go all out?