delighted to be

sacrifice / may 10, 2013

My mind has been focusing a lot on the word sacrifice lately. With Mother’s Day coming up this weekend, it’s been pushed to the forefront of my attention.

What does it mean to sacrifice for your children? Does that mean I need to have eleven kids, or is three or four okay? Does that mean I have to feel guilty sitting down and reading a juicy novel for myself sometimes because I should be reading to my kids (again) instead? Does that mean I have to always forgo wearing high heels so I, instead of my husband, can chase after my toddler down the church hallways?

Our primary responsibility is to rear and nurture children, but at what cost? Our individual limits are obviously vastly different and unique. While my sister loves having six children, three or four would make me happy. Does this mean I’m not sacrificing enough or am less of a mother?

I’ll save you the many days and nights, pleading in prayer for an answer: NO, it does not make you any less of a mother. My poor little soul has been weakened and distraught about this. I’m only raising one child. Am I doing enough?

This mother’s day is about sacrifice, but ones I have accepted rather than chosen. I didn’t choose to sacrifice my daughter to death, to “get” to raise her in the eternities after this life is over. I didn’t choose to space our children out this far. But these sacrifices – forced upon me by a loving Heavenly Father – have stretched and enlightened my spirit in ways I never knew possible.

While those mothers of three, four, six, eight – however many you’ve got – have primarily sacrificed their time, this year I feel like I’ve sacrificed my soul. It’s been beat up and tormented by the temptations of the devil. It’s been tossed to and fro, beckoned here and there. It’s been cold and hard and closed off. But I can also see how it’s been molded and shaped and reeducated about its divine nature. It’s been trained and uplifted and improved upon. This spirit of mine has matured and grown to be more like Heavenly Father, and isn’t that the end goal?

Let the fear dissipate, and our faith in Heavenly Father grow. Maybe it’s sometimes meeting Him in the middle with a willing heart, open to the circumstances that He places us in. (He knows exactly what He’s doing when He puts you there.) That even if we have a willing heart, maybe our Heavenly Father still has to force sacrifices on us sometimes so that we can grow.

And that’s okay, right?

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Recipe: Penne Pasta with Sweet Red Pepper Sauce / may 9, 2013

You know those days when you’re just not feeling the marinara? This is an excellent substitution, and it only take about fifteen minutes. I love any sauce that I can cook from start to finish (from scratch) while my pasta is boiling. ;)

I think this recipe is from You: On a Diet by Dr. Oz. (I can’t be sure, because I don’t own the book.) My roommate Alicia and I used to make this in college all the time because it was delicious, healthy and CHEAP.

This dish is mild, but you can make it spicier by adding more red pepper flakes. It’s also vegan without even trying to be. It goes excellent with a side of asparagus or roasted broccoli.

Penne Pasta with Sweet Red Pepper Sauce

Serves 6-8

1 T. olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
1/4 t. crushed red pepper flakes
1 red or yellow bell pepper, diced finely
15oz can diced tomatoes, drained
4 T. veggie or chicken broth (or water)
1 lb. penne pasta (Whole Foods has my favorite brand of whole wheat penne)
s&p

While pasta is boiling, cook onion in olive oil until sof1t. Add bell pepper, red pepper flakes, tomatoes, broth and salt and pepper. Cook until the pepper is soft and the mixture is simmering. Drain pasta. Puree in the blender* and pour over the cooked penne noodles. (This is optional according to the recipe, but I’ve done it without and the texture was too chunky; the flavors didn’t meld together. If you like a chunkier, thicker sauce, puree only 2/3 of it.)

(Sorry for the horrible pictures. Just know that when pureed it turns into the most vibrant, beautiful shade of orange.)

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ready or not / may 5, 2013

image above by gail pomare

Some days I think I’m absolutely ready to have a baby again. I read articles on breastfeeding and sleep training without shedding any tears, and I actually keep up with the baby trends (leggings and head wraps, please stick around for a while). Tyler and I talk about baby names and birth dates and car seats.

To me it seems like it’s a pretend subject in the far, distant future. We talk about a pretend future baby and a pretend little sibling for Jack to dote on. Some day it will happen, but who really knows when? We’ve still got forever to “wait” for it, right?

I sometimes feel like I’m ready because the cravings are there. I crave those squishy cheeks and chubby thighs. I crave that newborn whimper in the night. I crave those darling dresses and soft, leather baby moccasins.

But when I actually see a newborn, my mind begins to race and my heart starts pounding uncontrollably in my chest. I shudder at the thought of holding, touching, and feeling that baby cradled in my arms. I don’t want to see its tiny toes and clenched fists. I don’t want to see those gas-induced sleepy smiles. I don’t want any of it because it’s yours, and not mine.

Will I feel differently when it’s my own? It sounds strange but I just don’t want to grow another baby where Amelia was. That’s her spot, her territory. I can’t accurately explain it, but to me, it’s hallowed ground in there.

Over the past month, I’ve been desperately trying to find a balance between all of this. I don’t want to raise just one child in this life, but yet I still can’t quite wrap my head around getting pregnant again. I’m so scared I’ll never commit and if I do it will all go wrong. It’s so hard to have faith and have that hope in a plan that’s not your own.

I just can’t quite figure out what I was supposed to be doing with this past year, when I wasn’t raising a second child. I feel like a failure; so many other moms with careers and PhDs and multiple children and have done more than me and my stay-at-home life with one. I’ve decorated bits and pieces of our house, kept too many crumbs from accumulating on the floor, and instituted a plant-based diet: nothing I couldn’t have done without another baby.

I want a baby but I just don’t get that overwhelming feeling of “it’s the right time” yet, and I fear I never will. Do I pray for readiness, to be prepared for another child? Am I ignoring the promptings or pushing them aside? Because Tyler is patient and kind but wants to get this show on the road. (And I get that – I do too.) But I feel guilty that my own internal issues and struggles are the ultimate thing holding us back from the happiness of another child joining our family.

I’m exhausted and so emotionally drained from thinking about all of this. We had a plan, and this wasn’t it. So what do I do now?

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Recipe: Vegan Gingersnap Cookies / may 5, 2013

Let me introduce you to my new favorite cookie, the gingersnap. It’s so good, it’s completely changed how I think about cookies.

I used to hate gingersnaps, but with good reason. You see, many years ago my mom and I were at a Christmas party. There were many trays of cookies people brought, and we both decided to branch out and try the gingersnaps. One bite and we were gagging – it was as if an entire spice jar of nutmeg and cloves was accidentally spilled in the batter. It took everything in us to actually swallow that first bite it was so spicy and strong. (And then you don’t want to be rude to whoever at the party brought the gingersnaps, so you’re just dealing with awkward feelings of I-can’t-throw-it-away-but-it’s-equally-as-rude-to-leave-it-on-my-plate-uneaten. #christmaspartyproblems.)

I’ve avoided gingersnaps (scarred for life!) until last week when I came across Chloe Coscarelli‘s recipe, and a little voice in my head told me to give these cookies a second chance. These cookies blew me away – they were soft and chewy (for several days!), and the flavor was reminiscent of a classic, prominent gingersnap but without going overboard. I used to fall back on the classic chocolate chip, but these are my new favorite. (Also, these cookies have a heaping serving of blackstrap molasses in them, which is an excellent source of several key vitamins and minerals, including iron and calcium.)

Gingersnap Cookies

Makes about 34 cookies. Make-ahead tip: cookie dough can be made in advance and kept refrigerated for up to one week or frozen for up to one month.

2 cups flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
1-1/2 tsp. ground ginger (I used 1 tsp.)
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 cup earth balance
3/4 cup sugar, plus extra for rolling
1/2 cup blackstrap molasses
1 T. water

DIRECTIONS
1. Preheat the oven to 350-degrees.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, baking powder, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. Set aside.
3. Using a mixer, beat margarine, sugar, molasses, and water until well combined. Slowly beat in the flour mixture. Scoop about 1 rounded tablespoon of dough at a time, and roll the domed part of each scoop in sugar. Place them onto nonstick baking sheets and bake for 10 to 12 minutes. Let cool on the pan.

As a side note, if you’re wanting to go vegan or go meat-free a few times a week, Chloe has really good recipes that don’t feel like weird plant food. They’re totally normal, I promise, and got our family through those first few months of eating meatless and dairy-less. Some are full of sugar and oil and fake butter – and those ones are yummy! – but she does have healthy ones, too. I have her cookbook, but our favorites from her website are her hawaiian sloppy joes, goldfish crackers, mac n’ cheese (leave the broccoli on the side and add more tomato paste and lemon juice), and roasted apple, butternut squash & caramelized onion pizza.

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