Moses Speaks

I'm still plugging away at my Bible read-through. I'm not on any certain program or time line or anything; I just started with the New Testament and kept on reading. (Did I sound like Forrest Gump just then? Read Emily, read!)

I'm in Leviticus now - nearly through it, actually, and well, it's been more of a discipline than a passion in this book. It's interesting reading about the specific laws God gave Moses for the Israelites and sometimes even fascinating. I know that it all serves a bigger purpose than actually making sure the offerings weren't deformed and such, but still, so much of this was wiped from our consciences by Jesus' ultimate sacrifice that I have to admit, I don't read spell-bound or anything.

Also, I read at night before bed so sometimes I'm quite tired as I read. But guess what happened? Last night, for the first time in a while, I slept all night! Woo hoo! I woke up this morning feeling refreshed (thank you Lord) and thought I would spend some quiet time with my Lord before getting up.

And something jumped out at me! Really jumped out. All through Leviticus God says to Moses, "Speak to the people and tell them . . . " Well! Remember not too long before, Moses didn't even want to TAKE this job, he was so afraid of speaking. Some say he might have had an actual speech problem, others say maybe he was just a nervous nellie about public speaking. Either way, he didn't want to do it.

God was sweet as always and provided Aaron to help Moses, and that's the last I remember hearing about that. Until now - over and over God tells Moses to speak to the people. What an encouragement this was to me today! God believes in us! He encourages us over and over to be who He has called us to be, and he guides us every step of the way. He holds our hands when we need it, gives us specific direction when we need that. And He never, ever gives up on us!

Works For Me: The Five-Ingredients-Or-Less Edition

This week's Works For Me Wednesday is such a GREAT idea: we're all sharing recipes that contain 5 or fewer ingredients! I haven't ever participated in WFMW but this is the perfect week to do so, because I have a recipe that's at least 3 generations old and is a big family favorite.

Cranberry Chicken

Chicken (I like boneless skinless breasts but you can use whatever you like, enough to feed your family)
Dry onion soup/dip mix
French dressing (I've also used Catalina and it's fine)
Whole cranberry sauce - I like 2 cans

Mix last 3 ingredients and pour over chicken. I like to do this for about 6-8 hours in the crockpot but you could also bake it in the oven. Serve over rice. YUM!

Advice-Askin'

I know that you must excel in areas that I do not. You are smart. You're thin and healthy and your house looks nice. Right? So help me out here, sister.

1. How do you stay active? Do you have some sort of exercise routine?

2. What is your house-cleaning schedule like? Do you just clean things as they need it or do you follow a daily/weekly routine?

It's a new week, hooray!

I am so glad to be starting a new week! You know all about the Canaan drama that lasted days on end last week. He still has hives. I called the doctor's office to have them call in a RAST test and do you know that they want to see him first? This is silly, isn't it? I mean, if I were asking them to call in an Epi-Pen Jr. then yeah, I can see them wanting some proof that we actually need it. But they have to see him and gather our $40 co-pay before they will request a test that will tell us whether he did actually react to the peanut flour? Gosh. So we'll see them tomorrow and hopefully find out exactly what's going on.

Caris came down with the VBS Flu on Saturday night. It came on pretty suddenly, lasted all night long and she was much better by Sunday midday. She still laid around a lot on Sunday, and she slept from 8:30 last night until 11:45 today (woah!) but she feels well and is just tired, probably both from being sick so much and from being awake most of the night on Saturday night.

Everyone else is healthy and I'm praying that they don't get sick!

Happy Canaan Notes

Just so you don't think I'm completely screwing up my baby over the last few days, here are a few things he's up to at almost 17 months old (WAH!):
He points out his body parts: eyes, ears, hair, nose, mouth, tummy, feet, toes, tongue, teeth, hands etc.
Today I opened up the dishwasher and he got out the dishwashing detergent bottle and pretended to squirt it in where it goes
Size 2T, 6-7 shoes, Large cloth diapers
Weighs 28 pounds
Opens doors (oh my)
Gets up & down stairs fine
Says lots of new words - most recent are dog, kitty (eeeeee!), hot, dirt
Loves playing in water and is quite a daredevil in the pool

Moan, groan, boo.

As if Canaan weren't having a hard enough time already, his yesterday stunk too.

Before I tell you what happened, I have to tell you that my friend Lynette is most vigilant about Caris' peanut allergy. Her home is completely safe for Caris - so much so that she literally locks her peanut butter inside a cabinet so that no one will accidentally get it out when Caris is around, and she's even been known to bleach her counters after making pb&j for her own kids, even when we're not around. She gets how dangerous this peanut allergy really is.

So Canaan was hanging out with us in the music center since he hates the nursery and also because a bad stomach bug was making its rounds through the VBS kids and I didn't want him in there exposed to that. Lynette busted out a granola bar and read that it may contain traces of peanuts, and I told her it was still ok to give Canaan a piece. I have given him things a couple times that may have been exposed to nuts or whatever and he's been fine, though I haven't given him flat-out peanut stuff before. A few minutes after he ate a tiny piece, his face started to look red and splotchy. I started to feel a little bit of fear brewing - what if he's allergic to nuts too? What if he's coming down with this awful flu? Lynette read the granola bar package again and said, "Oh Emily, it has peanut flour." So now she's feeling bad about this, and it completely was NOT her fault. I gave her the go-ahead on it.

When we got home I gave him some Benadryl and put him down for a nap. The rash looked about the same when he got up, so I started to think it might be a virus. I gave him another dose before our evening VBS program. By the time the program was over, the rash not only looked the same on his face, it had spread to his arms and the back of his neck. When we got home I called the nurse line through our insurance, and the nurse asked me a million bajillion questions and finally determined that it was probably an allergic reaction and we better call our doctor for a treatment plan. I did, and he told us to go immediately to an urgent care or emergency room. I found an urgent care still open (we made it less than 10 minutes before they closed, bless their hearts) and the doctor there looked him over. He said, "It's an allergic reaction." I told him what he'd eaten and he said yes, to just keep an eye on him, keep giving him Benadryl every 6 hours, that it will take 2-3 days for the allergen to leave his system and that if he develops difficulty breathing we need to call 911 or head to the emergency room.

So anyway, when we got home I went right to bed and took him with me - who could put their child in a crib in the next room over when he might start to wheeze at any moment and need emergency care? I thought I wouldn't sleep one little bit, I was so worried about my baby. I did finally go to sleep though, and guess what I woke up to at 1 am? THUMP. My baby fell out of the bed. The very high bed. Onto the hardwood floor.

He cried, of course, but stopped quickly once we laid back down and nursed. He fell asleep within minutes. I, however, laid there freaking out. Completely freaking out. My heart was going crazy, I was having trouble breathing, my chest was tight - oh my gosh. I remembered what my counselor told me last year when I was having so many panic attacks and started deep breathing and letting my body relax. I was able to calm down and go back to sleep, this time with my arm *around* the baby, but man. I don't know. This week was awesome but it was a lot of work, and coupled with these things that keep on happening to Canaan, it was just all too much.

Canaan still has the rash today. I don't WANT to be dealing with this again. I don't WANT my child to have to be careful and worried and singled out due to his allergy. Alif, on the other hand, took it in stride. "We're already aware of how to handle this. We're already a peanut-free home." He's a good voice of reason, but I'm still bummed. I will ask the doctor on Monday to call in a RAST test to determine whether it really was the peanut flour that caused this.

If you feel like praying for my son, I would really appreciate it!!

It's not Canaan's evening

I was so proud of Canaan today! Despite my willingness to subject him to :::gasp::: the nursery at VBS today, he's been a well-adjusted boy. He did not last in the nursery, mind you. They walked him around the church campus and he was fine, but any approaching the actual nursery room was not going to happen, so he ended up with me in the music center, which was fine. I like dancing with my boy. Also he said "dirt" for the first time at church, and over and over at that. Some men were digging up a big hole and he pointed at it and said, "dirt" several times. I hope it doesn't replace his usual reaction to dirt too quickly, though, because it's pretty cute when he goes, "pbbbt" any time something's dirty or yucky.

So about this evening. He was in the kitchen with me while I made dinner. My kids hang out with me in the kitchen a lot and no one's ever gotten hurt. Canaan pulled a chair over to where I was standing at the stove, and in my worst-mom-of-the-year oblivion, I didn't even pay any heed. He pulls chairs around the house all the time and so I guess it just didn't compute in my worn-out mind that he was pulling his chair up to the stove, which was on. And to further your sullied view of me as a mother, he actually said, "hot" plain and clear. Just before he stuck his hand right into the fire. Oh, I know, it is sickeningly sad. I am not being sarcastic. I could have cried. I put his hand into running cold water immediately and oh, he cried. Thank God I still nurse him. He nursed and was fine. Geez, when I get burned like that it hurts for hours! I gave him some Advil right after, just in case it was still hurting, and he acted like I was torturing him by giving him medicine.

At that point Alif returned from taking Graham to baseball practice, and so he took Canaan outside to distract him from my horribleness. Next thing I know, the crazy dog knocked down the baby, and the baby cried.

Pretty soon Alif & Canaan came inside, and Canaan got happy playing the piano. Until he slammed down the key-cover (I have no idea what it's actually called, sorry) right onto his pudgy little fingers. More crying. More nursing.

Let's hope tomorrow is better!!

Get Thee to Target

I forced Alif to go with me to Target the other day to get a few breakfast items as well as some definitely peanut-free ice cream for Caris & her fellow allergic-to-peanuts friend Grace to have at VBS the next day. Our church is a peanut-free environment but the VBS snack committee wasn't absolutely sure about the ice cream so we wanted to play it safe.
So the family and I stumbled upon an end cap at Target that is a dream come true for a cereal-lover like myself. 5 boxes of cereal for $11! That is a pretty good deal right there.
But wait! There's more! If you decide you want to buy 5 boxes of cereal for $11, you take them all to the checkout and the friendly Target employee will smile and say,
"Here's a $5 gift card!" Really! So actually, you get 5 boxes of cereal for $6!
And then the next time you go in, I'm imagining that you can use your $5 gift card on the cereal and pay only $6 for another 5 boxes AND get another gift card. Yeah babuy.

Whooped.

For the third year in a row, I am working in the music center at my church's VBS. It's basically three hours straight of light aerobics. Which would be great if I didn't weigh 485 pounds. Actually, I guess it is great because I weigh 845 pounds. Or 1,845. Whatever. I am not fit and trim is what I'm saying. If I volunteered at every church in town to work in their VBS music center, I guess I would probably get very svelte by the end of summer.

However, if I did that my 16-month-old may check himself into a mental institution. He is not enjoying VBS one tiny bit. Yesterday he sat with me through the opening and started to get panicky when several adults went onstage in very fancy costumes. It was a time I was very glad he's still nursing because it got him through that scary moment. Then came the nursery and the loving, trustworthy ladies who are working in there this week. They did so well with his crying little self. He cried on and off, slept most of the time and was so glad to see me. All evening and this morning he was not himself at all. Caris came to say good morning to him and he shook his head. Grandma tried to hold him last night and he buried his head in my lap. When we got to church this morning he cried as soon as we stepped in the doors. Let's just say that nursery was not happening today so he hung out with me in the music center. I can only imagine how tomorrow will be. It's like separation anxiety boot camp this week.

It's neat to be in the music center and see each of my kids come through and how they act when they're with their friends and not each other. Caris is quiet and still and doesn't try any of the hand motions. Graham is silly in the back row and tries the motions and singing here & there, especially if they allow him to elbow or poke a neighbor. Malachi is always next to his friend Christian and they sing and participate with all the motions.

And now I think I need a nap before practicing tomorrow's songs.

When IS Date Night?

I literally do not know when I last had a date with Alif. I know that we haven't had one since Canaan was born. Did we have one when I was pregnant with him? Hmm, not that I can remember. The last time I remember going on date night was when my friend Cyndi and I used to trade off babysitting once a month. That was a long, long time ago.

I do remember that the last time we went on a date I had such a nice time. We had fun conversation, saw a movie - or did we? Maybe we only went out to dinner. Oh my GOSH, maybe our last date was when we bought Caris a walking toy. She is five years old now! Holy cow. Ok anyway, we got home and I said that I loved date night and did he have fun? And do you know how he responded? "I don't really like date night."

I *know*. Me too.

Then when he saw the shocked and hurt expression on my face he said, "I really just like being at home with you. We can relax, let our hair down, watch TV and laugh together . . . I just don't really like going out."

Sigh.

There went date night.

But sometimes a girl's gotta have some romance! A nice dinner where she feels a little giggly and shy with this man to whom she's been married for t-e-n years. She wants to put on her heels and walk sexy and hold hands with her husband instead of her kids. She wants to carry a cute little clutch instead of a diaper bag. And she wants to ride in his big, manly truck instead of the family minivan. Even if that does add $150 to the cost of the date in gas alone.

If anyone sees my husband out and about, would you elbow him and tell him to ask me out on a date? I promise to kiss and not tell.