Rolland's Birthday Summary

He woke up to streamers, which he eventually ripped off in small pieces to make "money." And I thought Opal would be their biggest threat.

Then a chance to play with God's present to Rolland--our first real snow of the year!

Then work, work, work: inside to make rolled-up-buns for the party.

Daddy brought home cupcakes from Marge's to have after pizza. Yum!

Time to open some presents! Trains from the Nobles:

The next day: Party Time! (The rolled up buns came out perfectly. Phew!)

We had cowboy hash and quiche along with the buns. Sprinkles were optional, but encouraged.


We had 10 kids, plus parents. We did a little storytime with songs and reading, we made paper bag sheriff vests, and we played, played, played. Rolland spent most of the time riding his horse-head-on-a-stick around yelling, "Yee haw!" I think he had fun, so mission accomplished!

LOL! Or Not.

There was a young man who taught youth
Who was quite a stickler for truth
He said it won't do
To write a haiku
That leaves out the nature forsooth!

This is my response to Dave's comment that haikus are supposed to be about nature, not bandwagons. I'm not sure how accurate it is regarding Dave's life-stage, nor am I sure what "forsooth" means, but I challenge him to argue with so witty a comeback!

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But this entry is not about our marital poetry wars; it's about Opal and the fact that she doesn't laugh. Here's what she does when she's really tickled about something:

1. Smile. Not her normal pleasant grin, but a wide open, I'm-so-excited-I'm-going-to-eat-you, full-face smile.
2. Breathe. Even with her mouth open, she closes her throat and breaths quickly and loudly through her nose.
3. Bounce. If you're holding her, she'll pump her legs like she's trying to take off, and heaven help you if her feet find purchase on your lap or the floor. She'll bounce till you're tired of holding her, and beyond.
   

But she does all this without a giggle. Sometimes she'll squeal or sputter, which is incredibly cute, but it's not the same "laugh" that we recorded Rolland doing when he was much younger than she is now (and which he still does). I'm kind of hoping she'll be a silent laugher, who shakes her shoulders but never makes a sound. That would be both funny and interesting.

Our Funny Girl

Catch Up

Oh, the bandwagon.
So easy to jump on or
Fall off for a month.

Please accept this haiku as my apology for not writing for so long. And, yes, I'm apologizing because I've denied you many moments of cuteness by not sharing my kids' every moves. But, on we go. Here are a few to catch up.

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Me: Rolland, what would should we do for your birthday? A party? Balloons? Presents?
Rolland: How about curled up buns? (aka: cinnamon rolls)

That's my boy.

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(Overheard from the livingroom to Rolland's room. Addy is the little girl we watch once or twice a week. She's about 1 1/2.)

Addy: No! Share! Mine!
Rolland: No! I own it! I own it!

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Rolland (singing): Jesus loves the little children. All the children in the world. Red and yellow, black and blue…

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Rolland: Mommy! I'm an astronaughty!

(I know to spell it that way because later he asked why astronaughtys were in trouble.)

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Yes, I realize that all of these are about Rolland, but I'm sure that as soon as Opal starts talking she'll provide ample blogging material. Her recent milestones include crawling and sleeping through the night. No small achievements for a person who weighs less than 20 lbs. Still no teeth, though, at 8 months, but she couldn't be cuter. See...?

Of the 10 kids in Rolland's library storytime, there were 2 cowboys and 4 ballerinas. What are the odds? Good, apparently.

The doll she's holding is about 27 years old!

Opal doesn't like to keep her blankets on when she's in the stroller, so I went to extreme measures. Get out of that, Houdini!

Yep.

Comfort Food

I had kind of a stressful day today. I emphasize "kind of" because it's not like I took any helicopter trips to the emergency room, but all the regular activities took more patience than they usually do: stoplights (because I was running late), Bible study (because I had nothing inspired to say), my mom group (because both kids were grumpy), etc.

When I got home I started to think about supper and realized I was out of ideas that didn't involve beans. We've had beans the last 3 nights, and I wasn't sure a fourth night would be good for our marriage. So I prayed for inspiration and God provided! I happened to glance at the squash shelf on our bookcase (we're a little short on pantry space) which triggered the memory of a soup I'd made last winter.

I started throwing it together and something about the smell added years back to my life. It was warm and cozy and comforting and put me in a darn good mood. So, since I can't bring everyone a yogurt container full of liquid love, I'll share the recipe. Here's to world peace!

Life Altering Squash Soup

2 T butter
1 onion, diced
cinnamon, ginger, cloves, nutmeg, allspice (or pumpkin pie spice)
1 medium butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and roughly chopped
3 carrots, peeled and roughly chopped
1 apple, seeded and roughly chopped
1 can coconut milk
4 oz cream cheese
salt

In a soup pot, saute onion in butter until translucent. Add 2 or 3 shakes of each spice and saute for a few seconds. Add squash, carrots, and apple. Pour in coconut milk and enough water to just cover the chunks. Simmer until everything is soft. Remove from heat and puree with a blender. Return to heat and stir in cream cheese and salt to taste. Serve with homemade bread if you have it sitting on your counter already. We added peas and sausage chunks (after pureeing) tonight, but I don't think those made it better. Let me know if you find the perfect chunks for it.

Unlicked

If you'd asked me a month ago, I would've said, "Yeah, I think Rolland's got the potty training thing pretty well licked." Which is why I'm glad you didn't ask.

My theory is that with moving to the new apartment, he figures all routines are up for grabs. Or maybe he's decided that sometimes he likes to ride his bike, and sometimes he likes to leave it lying in the middle of the living room; sometimes he likes to go in the potty and other times...not so much. Either way, he's been wearing a lot of afternoon diapers lately. I'm not an optimist, but I do like to start the morning with hope. The past few days have solidified my pessimism.

I started today with hope and a plan. I dreamed up a new incentive program featuring removable stickers and the promise of a "treat," until my foodie conscience got the better of me, and I tried to change it to a "toy," so now it's a "toy treat," whatever that is. It doesn't really matter since he was unable to achieve the 5 in-the-potty stickers necessary to earn it. Well, actually he did earn more than 5--it's just that he lost 3 along the way for "accidents" (a very generous term in this case).

Oh well, I'm sure he'll get it eventually. And we'll all be stronger for it.

Phew...

...we've been busy! On Oct 1 several friends from Sunday school came over and helped us move downstairs and across the parking lot to a 3-bedroom, ground-level apt where 1) everyone can go to sleep at his or her own bedtime, 2) we can grill off our deck, 3) Rolland can jump off the furniture at any time of the day, and 4) I can load up the stroller and roll it out the door without dealing with stairs. Thank You, Lord, for Your many blessings.

Our new livingroom "before".

(There is no "after" yet.)

Our new bedroom

Our new office area. The door is open to Rolland's room. Erika is eating a cookie.

Fortunately, the cuteness moved with us.

This Sat (one week later) we went to a farm that does harvest-themed stuff. It was 80-degrees. I got my first sunburn of the year. This is Rolland in the Pumpkin Train.

Rolland on Adeline. I have video of him waving his hat and yelling "Yee Haw!"

Pumpkins almost as far as the eye can see. (We're in peak color right now. I don't trust myself to drive with how distracted I get by the trees.)

The Corn Maze (of Death). Corn stalks cast surprisingly little shade, and Rolland's flip flops didn't allow him to do much walking. We didn't cheat...but only because we didn't have the opportunity.

After the farm we went on a relaxing, crowd-free hike. Aaaaaah, Autumn.

Opal has finally figured out the Jump-a-Roo and goes crazy in it (just like Rolland used it) only she prefers to prance on her toes. Somebody get that girl some pointe shoes!

Of course our lives aren't all fun and games. Next week maybe I'll take some more typical photos of our week: Dave working on lesson plans and me unpacking boxes while Rolland scatters toys all over the house and Opal spits up on the new carpet. Fun with the Sterkens!

A.P.

I think enough of you reading this enjoy both a good deal and an answer to prayer that you'll appreciate my excitement.

Last week I decided I wanted a pair of jeans. I had no hole-free jeans that fit, so it didn't seem like an inappropriate desire. So, on Grandma Day I swung by Target, grabbed a few pairs, tried them on (I accidentally grabbed a pair of the "skinny jeans"--AAAAHH! Nasty town!), made my choice, and dropped $30, figuring it was worth my time to get a good pair for more than I've paid for clothes in a long, long time.

Well, wouldn't you know, I started to feel guilty. I kept trying to tell myself that it was worth saving the time of rummaging through Goodwill racks (because my time is so valuable--like how Bill Gates loses money if he stops to pick up a penny--just like that). But I reasoned that God knows what I need and how much time I have, and what if I told Him about it and then trusted Him to put the right jeans in the right place at the right time (if I really needed them)? And then, to clinch it, I heard a lady on the radio say that she'd always told her kids that they don't need brand new clothes, and I am SO that lady.

So, I left the tags on and today (the next Grandma Day) I went to Love Inc (a thrift store) on my way to return the jeans to Target. I'd been praying/thinking about it all week, and I walked in the store with sort of medium-level faith. I wouldn't have been able to walk on water or anything. Well, I walked up to the jeans rack, grabbed four pairs that I guessed were my size (which is pretty variable during these, my childbearing years), tried them on...and walked out the door with--literally--the first two pair I'd grabbed off the rack. For $6 total. Yessssss!

Yay for God-shopping. I'll never have to go to the mall again!

I was going to take a pic, because that seemed like the bloggy thing to do, but upon consideration that seemed a little weird. And you all know what jeans look like, anyway. I'll just tell you they're not the skinny kind.