SoupSpoon

push pause

This year has been unbelievable. The hardest hard and gladdest glad tangled and woven thick as the darkest night. I need some time to sort through my thoughts before I can even begin to write out my thoughts.

Thus, I am pushing pause. I am not sure if I will write in this space again or if I will retire it when I return, but what I know for now is I am letting it and me rest.

Thank you for reading and being here for the last few years. It has been fun. For now I am looking for the space in my head to think. Once I find it and walk around in it for awhile, maybe then I will have something to say.

Love,

L*Joy

 

and then everything changes

The day of my last post, a few hours later, our family faced a grave loss. It is not my place to write about all the details here, but suffice it to say, the month of November disappeared altogether slower than any other month and yet it was as fast as a blur.

I was thinking yesterday of all the meals I have turned to this month as simple favorites. Meals that I don't have to check back at the recipe because they are as familiar as the voice of an old friend. Well hello there,  Chicken Noodle Soup, Roast with Wine and Rosemary, Turkey Chili, Apple Butter Hand Pies...

We have hung lights on the tree and are preparing for Canaan's first Christmas which is such a joy, but a part of my heart hurts and it probably will for a long long time. I am grateful for miracles and trusting like a wide eyed child that God will continue to carry our family like He has thus far, but still there are so many moments that echo with sadness.

Please accept my vague explanation and if you pray, please pray for joy to fill the empty places.

I do, however, despite all the tears, have a smile to share with you. Below are just a couple of our Christmas card outtakes. I hope you smile even half as much as I am right now. Man oh man, I love this family.

 

A new here

We moved, and slowly we are finding our home here. I love a house full of people, friends, scrunched around our dining room table for hours, eating and drinking until we can't anymore. Starting over with zero friends in this new town has been quite an interesting experiment thus far. Want to move with us and be our friends?

The stove in this house is fantastic (Five Star anyone?) and perhaps it is that that makes me want to start this old blog up again in full steam, but like I mentioned in the last post, a new blog is underway. A co-written space that is sure to win hearts and help you widdle steward time away as you read along. I have yet to completely decide what will happen with this space. Should I post recipes once a month? Should this be just archives? It is hard to say goodbye when there have been oh so many goodbyes lately.

But yes, a new space is being born and designed as I type, and soon we will invite you over for a read.

All good things...

This month, out of the blue, so many things changed. Canaan started really laughing, rolling over, sitting up with a little assistance, and then as if this isn't enough, we are moving.

Stephen was offered a job that after days of (crying) and praying, we decided was the right decision to make. Leaving this home, these friends, this church did not come without much kicking and screaming. I feel so sad at some moments, angry at others, and am working towards feeling hopeful all the time. Hopeful. What a beautifully whole word for such a vulnerable feeling.

So, needless to say, this month has been crazy. Our house went on the market yesterday and the pit of my stomach sort of ached... We love this home. We picked every door knob, every every thing. Prayerfully the next folks feel this love.

I have been nervous to bring this up, not knowing how, but I am about to change things up around this space too. For the last four years, I have loved filling these pages with food stories. Now in a different season of life, my mind floods with things I need to write about motherhood, family, and of course, food. So, I am playing around with the idea of a new blog that's purpose reaches further than recipes. There will be more frequent posts and a diversification of theme. There is also the exciting possibility of a co-written blog that we (my secret cohort and I) are just beginning to discuss...

So, all good things must come to an end. But. To end, these things have to begin and that is where I want to be.

Two months!

We had heard it said that you love your kids with a love like no other. It swells up from the bottom of your toes and overflows out of your ears. I believed people but now that we are here with our daughter, I understand what they meant. Her well-being, happiness, contentment, opportunities and growth drive all my actions. No matter how tired I am, if she needs me, I respond. Not everyone (maybe that does not bode well for my character), but not everyone elicits that sort of response. Some folks could garner my excuses for slack behavior, but that little face, ooohhh, that little face, she pulls out love from all sorts of pockets I never knew I had.

Right now, she has no other way in this world to learn about love, grace, joy, and sacrifice than in how we parent her. In our rocking, swaying, kissing, holding, calming, talking and playing we have the opportunity to paint a picture of a Good Father that endlessly loves and supports us. If we do not respond, or respond in frustration, selfishness, and half-heartedness, then we paint a darkened distorted picture of grace.

Oh Lord, please renew our strength to always show the children of this world who You truly are, a loving open-armed Father that never tires of holding us and is never half-hearted.

I am starting to do some cooking and baking again, mostly on the weekends when Stephen is here to love on her while my hands are busy. To be honest though I am sure there is nothing more delicious in this world that I could share than this smile. Enjoy every last second.

 

 

Trying to know how to begin...

This has to be the hardest post I have ever written. How do I start, write, or finish a post about labor, birthing, nursing, becoming a mom, our child, how I feel about it all, the good the bad the ugly, the exhaustion, the tears, the inadequacy, and the joy? How do I write the extreme emotions of fear, guilt, frustration, love, and deeper love? Yes, this is the hardest post I have ever written.

It seems so important to communicate honestly what the last five weeks have been, and for that I have struggled to find the time with both hands free, and my mind alert enough to think. Now, when I have a few stolen minutes, my mind is swimming with too many thoughts to write.

Maybe I will just start with now and work backwards. Now, I am in love. Every grin, grimace, and movement makes my heart jump. Her cries draw me in. Her smiles are more than any amount of anything you could ever bribe me with. She is our girl. I am completely devoted. We barely sleep, I hardly get to eat, she is rarely out of my arms, her greatest joy in life is nursing as much as possible, I sometimes have to hold her while I pee, and I love it. Sometimes I look out the window and see people coming and going and think to myself that I miss being able to get a lot done in a day, go where I want when I want, and sleep when I am tired, but all in all if we have to go through this temporary isolation in order to be able to have and love her, then I have come to terms with that. Coming to terms was not easy.

The first 16 days after labor my hormones were the devil. They taunted me with horrible thoughts of regret and frustration. My whole body ached (I will get to the part of the story where we labored for 41 hours... just hang on) Nursing was excruciating. We saw seven different lactation consultants, a chiropractor, and eventually an ENT that said she was tongue tied. She snipped her frenulum and after Canaan relearned her tongue, nursing became a whole different story. I once had blisters on my areola, now I just have a happy nursing baby.

When you want to nurse and are struggling, there is the most unreal sense of guilt you have ever felt. I am supposed to feed her and that is supposed to create a bond between us. Instead I was crying, desperate, and wanted to quit. We kept trying. Everyone has their advice and experiences. Some are more helpful than others. Some just made me feel more inadequate and made me question what the **** was wrong with me. Why couldn't I do this? Now, looking back on those thoughts I see how silly and futile they really are. It had nothing to do with me or Canaan. We needed some outside help. Thankfully we found it. Now, when I hold her and she watches me the whole time she nurses I am beginning to understand what people are talking about when they say how wonderful nursing is. This alluded me at first. My mom listened to me cry and just kept saying one day it will get better. She said it would be worth it. I am glad I believed her just enough to keep trying. Nursing babies can smell their moms in the house. Canaan knows me and she knows when I am near. As exhausting as this can be, it is a priviledge to be the one that she wants and needs.

Canaan is a survivor. It feels like she and I have had to fight for everything together over the last five weeks, and it all started with labor.

My water broke at 12:22am Friday June 3. We labored through the night, went to the birth center at 11am Friday, and waited. Labor never picked up. Contractions came and went and I slowly dilated. At 6am Saturday I started pushing. We pushed for four and a half hours. At this point in hour 36, I seriously felt I was dying. My face was so swollen that I could not see very well, my whole body had given everything it had and it just wasn't enough. Stephen and our friend Emily had been with me through every contraction. Faithful and strong they didn't leave me. We since have talked about how afraid they were as well. In modern America we often forget how scary and out of our control labor and birthing really is. People like to get on a high horse and shout "wimp!" at every woman that seeks a medicated labor, but I can honestly now say there are times when it will save a life. Thank God for it. Infection had started to set in and it was just a matter of time. Thank God for Doctors, hospitals, and medicine.We had done everything we could without it, and it wasn't enough to bring her into this world.

At 11:30am Saturday I was transferred to the hospital via an ambulance. They gave me an epidural and pitocin so that I would sleep and hopefully the contractions would pick up. At 4:30pm the Doctor came in and explained that he wanted to try a vacuum extraction. I prayerfully begged God to let this work.

It is hard to express how it feels to have your husband, best friend, family, midwife, nurses, and doctors as a ring of support shouting "Push!" through a stream of tears, while I prayed, "Please God. Hear our cries". 

Then, just like that, she cried. All pink and gorgeous, she cried.

Right now, I am not sure what else to type.

  

 

potato salad with dill

If you could see our farmer's market you would understand what I mean when I say it has to be one the best parts of living in this city. Sprawling, luscious, and abundant, it is impossible to pass a farmer without being offered a sample of a bleeding sweet strawberry or tomato. All of those southern drawls make the air thick and syrupy. I really love that place for its simplicity and life. Food seems more alive when it is warm from the sun and still has some dirt on it's edges.

When I went a few weeks ago, all of my love and adoration for produce, that went a bit dormant in the winter, was revived. Though I would never turn away to another love, food can become a bit uninteresting by the end of a season; like a magazine you have read several times. But then, the weather changes, and there are strawberries and tomatoes where only cabbages have sat for weeks on end, and the desire to cook is renewed with the first glance.

That happened with a bag of gorgeous red potatoes, gleaming white spring onions, and a bundle of fresh clipped dill. Dinner was decided in an instant. I love the power of the farmer's market to make a perfect meal impossible to ignore.

We made the salad and it was so simple, delicious, and repeatable, much like the market. Tonight we are headed to a cookout with Stephen's work and I am making it again. Alongside a fresh grilled burger and sliced tomatoes, oh this is so good.

 

Red Potato Salad with Dill serves 6 (can easily be doubled for a crowd)

12 small red potatoes

1/2 cup diced spring onion bulbs

1/4 to a 1/3 cup loosely packed minced fresh dill (use more or less depending on your preference)

1/2 cup mayo

2 or 3 tablespoons good quality grainy mustard (to taste depending on how strong of a mustard you are using)

salt and pepper

1. Scrub the potatoes and cut out any spots. Bring to a boil and boil until just fork tender. This takes about 25 minutes from when they boil

2. Drain the potatoes and let them cool in the fridge. Once cool enough to handle, cut into small chunks

3. Wash and mince the dill. Dice the onions. Mix the mayo and mustard together

4. Toss the vegetables and dill together. Gently fold in the dressing. Salt and pepper to taste. Enjoy!

33 Weeks

Good morning friends,

In the last two weeks we have survived several tornadoes, watched a dear friend get married, celebrated our baby girl at the most lovely baby shower ever that our friends planned, and I officially stepped out of the paid work force to be at home. Oh, a less life-changing event but possibly just as exciting is that we also bought a new couch and loveseat. It is whiskey colored, on order, and eagerly anticipated by us.

On my last day of work, I walked home slowly and made this pie. We shared it with our friends that night and I began to feel my breath deepen. Leading up to this point I was nervous about how I would feel being at home, but now that I am here, I feel so at peace.

In just a matter of weeks we will be able to meet our daughter. Until then we are prayerfully and patiently waiting.

A smoothie

We are in the middle of the 28th week. Finally she has made her full presence known, and it is no longer a question to strangers of whether or not my belly is a baby or a beer gut. This belly is definitely a baby.

I am starving constantly and to be honest having a really hard time thinking of what I want to eat, constantly. I make myself eat what I should when I should, for her sake, but eating at this frequency exhausts options much more quickly than my old habits did. Snacks disappear in half the time because I am eating twice as frequently... or so it seems.

The standby faithful friend, that was nearly my only food friend in the first tri-mester, is this green smoothie. Those first few months I would wake up at 5am, starving and nauseous. Stephen, being as loving as he is, would stumble into the kitchen and make me this smoothie. I would sit up just enough in bed to get it down and then and only then could I muster the strength to head to the kitchen for the rest of breakfast prep. Oh. I am glad that we went through that and glad that now it is over.

The sheer joy of the process outweighs any of the minor inconveniences. Eating constantly, though sometimes overwhelming, makes me grateful for food to eat and for a baby growing so well that she needs it. I also need to pee constantly, but that is typically an easy problem to solve.

This recipe has all sorts of room for improv, and I hope you take advantage of such. The basics I would keep in mind is that you want your bananas peeled and frozen, you need enough liquid just to make the blender puree it all, and adding in a handful of fresh baby spinach adds a whole lot of nutrition without altering the flavor. As the days get warmer, the thought of a creamy frozen drink sounds more and more appealing. I hope you find it as faithful a friend as I have.

 

Green Smoothie makes 1, 16 oz smoothie

1 frozen banana

1 small handful baby spinach leaves

1/3 cup frozen berries

1/4 cup plain (or flavored) yogurt

1/2 cup Orange Juice or Milk (if you want it not as sweet)

1 scoop whey or other good quality protein powder (optional)

1. Puree all ingredients in the blender. Add a splash more liquid as necessary until pureed to your liking

 

24 weeks

The last few weeks have been marvelous. The spring sun is starting to warm things up around here. We spent all of last Saturday with the windows open as we cleaned the house, weeded the yard, and grilled out in the backyard. I know these moments are actually stolen, as it is still February and likley to snow again before it is all said and done, but for now at least it is lovely.

Two more days and we move into the 25th week of this pregnancy. Every time I feel her kick I am as excited as I was the first time. Stephen never tires of wrapping his arm around my protruding little belly and waiting for her to move. I am continually in awe of the way she is making us fall in love with her one roll, one kick at a time. My sister keeps calling to tell me about the newest pink dress she purchased for her, and my five year old niece has taken it upon herself to insure this baby girl is well suited. I smile and revel in the love that is being showered upon us every day.

The grace of this journey, the joy of this new life, and the faith that is grown in the unknown waiting is lifting and deepening my heart all at the same time. We sing a song around this house quite a bit by Sandra McCracken called Feast or Fallow. When my mind starts to get ahead of myself or my faith starts to wander into worry, these words sung over and over again carried me through the season of hoping to get pregnant and are now carrying me through to the glorious day we get to meet our daughter.

In Feast Or Fallow
Words and Lyrics by Sandra McCracken

When the fields are dry, and the winter is long
Blessed are the meek, the hungry, the poor
When my soul is downcast, and my voice has no song
For mercy, for comfort, I wait on the Lord

In the harvest feast or the fallow ground,
My certain hope is in Jesus found
My lot, my cup, my portion sure
Whatever comes, we shall endure.
Whatever comes, we shall endure

On a cross of wood, His blood was outpoured
He Rose from the ground, like a bird to the sky
Bringing peace to our violence, and crushing death's door
Our Maker incarnate, our God who provides.

Repeat chorus

Bridge:
come, oh come, Emman- u- el
come, oh come, Emman- u- el

When the earth beneath me crumbles and quakes
Not a sparrow falls, nor a hair from my head
Without His hand to guide me, my shield and my strength
In joy or in sorrow, in life or in death

Repeat chorus

Whatever comes and how it comes, our faith is sure on One who is sure. How beautiful the certainty, how loving His grace, we wait, we pray, and we sing! How, oh how, did we get to be here? I feel incredibly blessed beyond measure. A child is coming!