Give Grace, And Recieve It Graciously.
Since I was tagged by Jenny.
Author Archives: juliebyers
Why yes, I am a Granola Mama
This chewy granola recipe is so yummy! And my family loves it. And it is healthy! The recipe makes about 30 granola bites and I bag them up in snack bags so we can grab them on the go. Fill them with whatever goodness you want. Here is how I make these tasty morsels:
Chop 1/4 cup oats, 2tbsp flax, and 2 tbsp nuts of your choice in chopper or food processor. Set aside
In a large bowl, mix 1 1/2 cup quick-cooking rolled oats, 2/3 cup dried fruit, 1/3 cup pumpkin seeds or nuts, 2 tbsp raw sunflower seeds, 2tbsp coconut flakes, 1 tsp cinnamon, 1/2 cup nutbutter of your choice, 1/4 cup honey or agave nectar, 1/2 tsp vanilla extract. Using moist fingers, press into 1″ balls. Roll in the nut-oat crumbs and refrigerate overnight.
Yum. Did I mention they were healthy?
The Economics of a Marriage
An unexpected gift celebrating no occasion.
Results in an apple pie baked with all my love.
And I thought of your face that sweeps over me like light, like the sun on the apple making a lovely show. So one seeing it marveled the other night, turned to me saying, “What is it in your heart? You glow.” –Not guessing that on my face he saw the singular reflection of your grace like fire on snow–and loved you there. –May Sarton
Earth Hour
Our family celebrated Earth Hour last night. Norah and I had been playing in cornstarch goop (who has time to make proper play-dough?) and I lost track of time. So the first part of our Earth Hour was spent giving Norah a bath by candlelight. Then we sang songs as the candles glowed. Norah played dear Nate’s “junkelele.” Our neighbors, Lee and Brittany stopped by to gift Norah with a book.
We had so much fun by candlelight that we might celebrate Earth Hour more frequently in our home. So, if our lights are off, knock anyway…
Midnight Arrival
Long Drive.
Strong Mama.
Great Music.
15 Minutes of Pushing.
Healthy Baby.
Immediate Breastfeeding.
Long Drive.
Tired Happy Doula.
The Princess and the Pea
Oh the drama of living with a two year old. A few days ago, I was on emergency response duty for a piece of wooden swiss cheese that was stuck on Norah’s thumb. Last night’s adventure topped the cheese.
We were eating dinner. Norah’s eyes starting watering and she had a shocked/glazed look on her face. She was rubbing her nose and trying to dig for gold. She’s had a runny nose so we thought it was just her sinuses. After a couple of screams that threatened all the glass in our home, she said, “Mama, bee in my nose.” I was all sympathy, “Aw, honey bear, I know it feels like there are bees in your nose.” “NO, mommy, PEA in my nose.” WHAT? Scott ran for the headlamp and sure enough, we saw a flash of green up the schnoz.
After I rolled in the floor laughing for a quick selfish moment, I dialed-a-nurse (aka, my mom) who told me sternly, in the face of my chuckles, that objects up a child’s nose was the number one reason for visits to Urgent Care and I could either get it out myself or expose her precious grandchild to the trauma of invasion at Urgent Care. My seriousness properly restored, Scott and I brainstormed ideas for pea-removal. We tried coaxing Norah to blow up a balloon with one nostril. Scratch that. We tried getting her to blow out a candle with her nose. Scratch that. We practiced sucking peas out of our hand with a bulb syringe. Scratch that. In the middle of Scott’s macgyver-ing a tube for me to suck the pea out and my googling “pea stuck up nose,” Norah said, “pepper” and then gave a giant sneeze. The pea sweetly rolled across the kitchen tile and Norah grinned while chanting, “I did it self.”
What a fabulous family bonding experience! What did we do for fun before having a kid?
Blessingways and Broken Mornings
I’m re-reading Spiritual Midwifery and getting lost in the hippie love of the Farm midwives. Why is it that in almost every Farm birth story, the couple makes out during labor? I didn’t even think of that during my labor. I was very close to Scott physically and emotionally during the process and he was very hands on but we weren’t making out. No. I asked him if he’d be willing to give it a go next time around. Of course, he suggested we start practicing right away.
Because I’m dreamily lost in the Farm love, my background music carries the smell of patchouli. Yesterday, Norah and I were riding in the car. I was listening to a Cat Stevens song. Norah asked, “What’s dat song called?” I said, “It’s called ‘Morning has Broken.'” Norah: “It needs batteries, Mommy?”
This Saturday is our monthly Blessingway at UCEDS. The Blessingways are free and open to anyone. It is our way of surrounding new and expectant families with positive support and mindful information. Caryn will be sharing her birth story and then we’ll have an informational session on Cloth Diapering 101. We need experienced women with encouraging wisdom to bless these new families. We meet from 2-4 at UCEDS the 4th Saturday of each month. Children are welcome.
Hoppin’ Down the Bunny Trail
Today my mom, sis, Norah, and I dyed Easter eggs. We skipped the artificial food coloring and made our own dyes. I never liked chemistry class but this experiment was so much fun! And messy. I think I may have permanently dyed mom’s white porcelain sink.
My favorite was an earthy green we got from mixing turmeric and boiled red cabbage. We discovered a lovely blue from one of the concoctions–I think it was baking soda, beets, and red cabbage. We wrapped one egg in red onion peels and dropped in hot water giving us a speckly tye-die egg. Spinach and daffodils yielded a pale yellow. We put rubber bands on a few eggs before dying for variation. Norah enjoyed crushing the blueberries and spinning an egg around in the beets. One note: dropping a white egg in coffee simply makes a brown egg. I already had brown eggs in the fridge. Doh.
“The Walt”
Norah has a new thing. It surely has something to do with being a two-year old. It goes a little something like this:
N: “I want yogurt.” (in a scream)
Me: “Ok”
N: “NOOOOOOOO. I want applesauce.” (louder scream)
Me: “Sure.”
N: “Aaaaahhhhhh! I want cereal.” (high pitched panic scream)
Me: “Norah, no big deal. You can have whichever you want.”
She then falls into the floor in a rage. The crying and hiccoughing just goes on and on. It is pitiful. It doesn’t change if I hold her or leave her alone. She is inconsolable.
It can be about anything/everything. Where she wants to sit or stand. What music she wants. Whatever. Scott and I have named it “The Walt” after Walt Whitman’s line: Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. (I am large, I contain multitudes). I’m having a tough time with “The Walt” and Norah’s largeness. No matter how I respond (or don’t respond), it seems to make it worse. It doesn’t seem to be food or sleep related. I plan to read Your Two Year Old tonight for ideas.
Meanwhile, take a look at Norah’s latest art. Does this look a little scarlet letterish to you? She had an entire palette of colors but only touched red and orange.
Inexplicable Ways 