Things That Grow (Pics)

Yesterday I snapped some pictures with Daniel, and I realized all the shots were of things that grow. Clockwise: curiosity (and messes in the dining room), little sprouts, friendship, joy.

Toot Toot for the Morning Commute

In grad school I had my nearest experience to what many of you gainfully employed professionals call "the morning commute". I lived in Cary and each morning would go to either my campus office, my research site off Lake Wheeler Rd, or a morning class. The drive down Cary Parkway was predictably annoying with older patrons driving slowly in the wrong lane and the usual sense of entitlement that followed Cary drivers in general. By the overpass at US1, I'd either heard a traffic report or could get a visual to determine whether I'd like to sit in thirty minutes of traffic for what would normally be a twelve minute drive on US1 or would rather brave Tryon Rd to sit in thirty minutes of traffic from the buses servicing the three to five schools between Walnut and Gorman.

The morning commute was crucial to my morale in the first couple hours of the day. It's amazing how a fast breezy drive could set me on pace for productivity. Likewise long waits typically threw me off and required 30 minutes of chatting with other students to come down off the fury.

As a work from home mom, I am no longer going places. I mean, I am going places but no places a self-respecting professional would use to pad her resume. My equivalent to the morning commute is the morning diaper change. We live in a two story home with all the bedrooms upstairs. Somedays I get the "traffic report" before heading down for the morning. If Daniel feels pretty dry, we go on down and get some breakfast before changing the diaper and pajamas downstairs. Otherwise, I'll change him in his room where we are more equipped to handle messes.

Some mornings I fail to check the traffic report. Today we ran head-on into a ten car pile up. The top seam of the diaper had busted open, and when I unzipped the footies, I saw little water-lock beads - diaper stuffing - had spilled out and were covering his torso. We headed to the bathroom and I managed to get my confused and smelly little boy and his special seat onto the potty while spilling out these little beads all over the bathroom floor. After sacrificing a clean diaper and a quarter pack of wipes and vacuuming the floor, we did the only thing we could do - headed back upstairs to the tub, aka the diaper crash ER.

We are now watching PBS kids and blogging - I suppose this is my version of chatting with the coworkers while waiting on the coffee to brew. At least we made it to "work" bathed and looking fine.

Garden Pests of Another Kind

Last year I started my tomatoes around the middle of February, and I had just removed the dome off the sprouts when the cat ate the tops off every sprout. This afternoon, I decided it was time to remove the dome and within five minutes Daniel rolled a blue soccer ball across the sprouts.

I definitively lost two sprouts and about five others I have attempted to go ahead and transplant into peat pots. Tomato sprouts seem very delicate, but I am hoping that because tomatoes grow roots up the stem, these might be salvageable. Because I was in a planting groove, I transplanted the rest of the Brandywine and Mortgage lifters. Ideally I would have waited for the second set of leaves to come in, but I was eager to open up space in the humidity tray for peppers and extra tomatoes.

Dear Joe, I'm Sorry.

Pregnancy is rough on the Baby Daddy, so I write this list of apologies to say, I know, honey... I know.

I apologize for the 15 pounds you will gain from my second dinner at 9:30 each night.

I'm sorry you will have to work so hard to lose your pregnancy weight and the new baby will pretty much take care of mine.

I'm sorry I chowed down on a sausage-egg-biscuit from Micky D's in the Target parking lot without you this morning.

I'm sorry for keeping you awake from 3:00-5:00 am every morning as I toss and turn trying to get comfortable.

I'm sorry for making you sleep in the guest room for several nights, then asking you to come back and then kicking you back out at 4:00 am.

I'm sorry for telling you I'd be permanently "checking out" (or should we say checking in somewhere?) in 15 years once our kids were in high school due to my rapidly declining mental health and insomnia.

I apologize that our child runs around the house making pterodactyl noises in an effort to mimic my pregnancy belching.

I apologize that your stack of white t-shirts seems to vanish before your very eyes between laundry days.

I apologize that I continue to cook everything in butter when you asked that I switch to margarine or olive oil.

I'm sorry you bought me a bread machine and we still eat store bought bread.

I'm sorry I keep forgetting to buy the bread.

I apologize for constantly changing yogurt brands.

I'm sorry there is a little green potty with goofy frog eyes in the middle of the living room floor.

I'm sorry I don't let you do man things in peace.

I'm really sorry I bought those granny panties.

I'm sorry that in 6 months I'll be dragging you to the mall with our boys because I'm still just so fat and can't fit into anything.

I'm sorry I make you watch The Bachelor with me every Monday night... and before that one, SYTYCD, and Gossip Girl.

I apologize that every single afternoon you have to find all the exploded pieces of Mr. Potato Head.

Even though I will never use the term, "We are pregnant," you are 100% with me in this, and I thank you for putting up with this crazy pregnant lady.

Belly Pic, 24 weeks

Facebook Fiasco

As you know, I'm attempting to curtail my obsessive use of social media. Out of sheer curiosity, I deactivated my Facebook account just to see what would happen. When I reactivated it 67 seconds later, everything looked normal, except my groups and pages were gone. The group I was an administrator of wouldn't let me view it and I managed to dump all the followers of my blog.

So what did I do? I decided to make another FB fan page for my blog. How embarrassing. What's worse is that when I created it, I didn't classify it correctly. I listed it as a local business. Now, I have no idea what I'm peddling from my website. Sure, I'll be growing some tomato plants for a few friends and I occasionally make pottery in my garage (when I'm not busy incubating babies), but I'm pretty sure I am not a "local business - other". I don't come with commuting directions or parking instructions - contrary to what my husband may claim.

As I cringed, I hit delete on my new fan page and it's 19 generous fans and started a third fan page. YES. A THIRD. I'm definitely not that big of a deal, but it's all in the name of letting people who want to know I've updated my blog be told and letting the others simply tune me out (while they are simultaneously bombarded by their friends' farmville, mafia, bejeweled, and fishville updates.)

If you are on Facebook and would like my newest post titles to show up in your newsfeed, go to: http://www.facebook.com/paige.puckett#!/pages/Pocket-Smiles/349456086997. I promise not to abuse my privilege of adding to your news feed... at least not anymore than I already have in the last 24 hours. And meanwhile, someone kick me for spending so much time on FB trying to sort through the mess I made.

The Narration of My Life in 140 Characters or Less

So I realize the silliness of most of my Lent endeavors. Obviously, the idea of the season is through some personal sacrifice to prepare my heart to reflect on Jesus's sacrifice and then to celebrate the resurrection. I must admit that not posting to Twitter and Facebook isn't helping accomplish this at all - it's simply a lame attempt at a physical gesture to recognize the upcoming holiday, which is probably more insulting than to just go about life in a more genuine fashion.

The biggest changes I've seen (what, in two days?) are not spiritual at all.

1. I feel less "liked", and by "liked" I mean mouse-clicker-approved by my voyeuristic friends on facebook. There's something extremely satisfying about writing a clever status message and seeing the "Equally-distracted-friend likes this" and comments roll in.

2. The living room is chaos. With mom spending less time on the computer and iPhone, there are way more toys on the floor. I consider this a good thing.

3. I crash my shopping cart less at Walmart. I'm sure you've seen the likes of me doing it: attempting to grab the Beenie Weenie mini cans from the top shelf while updating my status about the irony of Beenie Weenies being a "top-shelf" food, all while the toddler is trying to climb out of the rolling cart.

4. There is a constant status update feed running in  my mind of things I would post were I allowing myself to post. It's like I am narrating my life in 140 characters or less snippets, and I am the only one reading and giggling and commenting on the narration. "Paige likes this (with little thumbs up)."

5. Joe is bombarded by my mental Twitter feed when he walks in the door. "Sharing freezer pizza with my toddler and wondering when I will be able to get in a couple bites." "Watching Daniel hiss back at the cat, this kid is a genius." "Wow, is this the 4th poopy diaper in a 1-hour span?" "Thinking about how to get my hair cut on Friday... to grow it out or keep it shorter..." This is also the point I realize my friends are saying "I like this" because they either feel really sorry for me, have equally mundane feeds, or want to perpetuate the self-humiliation.

"New post! Paige updated her blog! Look at her! Comment! Love her! Like her! Validate her!" - thumbs up, anyone?

Pea Planting Time

This time last year I began planting my sweet peas. It was cold, but I was told peas like cold and I went for it. It took them nearly two weeks or longer for that first planting to germinate. As I was waiting for what seemed an eternity to an eager early-spring gardener, I decided to do a little reading about forcing germination indoors. Interestingly, I came across multiple pot-growers websites before I finally found some classroom experiments in germinating peas. 

How to force peas to germinate indoors: 1) Take a damp paper towel or kitchen towel and space out peas across half the towel before folding the other half on top. 2) Carefully place into a large ziplock bag and seal it being sure peas stay spaced out. 3) Find a warm dark place such as on top of the refrigerator and allow to sit for several days. 4) Once seeds have sprouts, drop them into 1" deep holes in your prepared soil and cover loosely with topsoil. If you just can't wait two weeks to see the fruits of your planting labors, this method just might be for you. I think I will skip the fun this year.

Last year I bought a half-pound bag of Thomas Laxton Peas, and there were plenty leftovers for this spring. I don't think I will be forcing the germination this time around, but I will be planting my first batch today, followed by planting new seeds every two weeks until mid-spring. Trellises aren't needed right away, but last year my peas over-topped my 5' tee pees, and since I like to plant around the structure, I might go ahead and set those up before I plant. To plant, I take a sharpie pen and poke 1" deep holes about 3" apart and drop a pea into each hole before covering them back up. Already, the soil has been tilled and the rye grass has been turned back into it along with some black hen chicken compost. I still need to add in the Black Cow, so this project may take me two days.

Spring Cleaning

No, Spring isn't here, sadly, but I feel the need to do a little spring cleaning. I've never taken strongly to the season of Lent as I tend to make it a legalistic endeavor, but I like the idea of making room for reflection, study, and prayer by clearing some mental and emotional space in my life. One of the largest impediments to productive use of my time is the constant influx of information from various social media sources and websites. Easily, I can spend a whole afternoon flipping between Facebook, Twitter, email, gchat, Google Reader, CNN, People, Eonline, and Weather.com with a constant stream of new information coming in. On static days, my flipping can become a little frantic as I search for a distraction from who knows what.

I realize this has clearly become out of control as I have started taking my iPhone into the bathtub for my reading pleasure... all while a lovely stack of parenting and home gardening magazines rests a foot away in case I run out of things to read. This is a picture of addiction to me, with untold consequences on my heart and mind and relationship with close ones. I am almost certain I am not alone in my self-medicated infodrip.

Last night as I waited for Jecca to come over to babysit Daniel while Joe and I went out for dinner, which she also provided, I realized how amazingly productive I could be with only 30 minutes of time. In 30 minutes, I changed my clothes, fed Daniel dinner, changed his diaper and put him in pajamas, straightened the living room, put up his toys, put away the dishes, wiped down the counter and table, set up a train track, and called Joe to see if he was on his way home. I think I even squeezed in a bathroom break. Joe was impressed as I recounted my whirlwind prep on our way to the restaurant. I realized I probably have no excuse for not being able to achieve at the very least making our home look like civil beings reside in it. I also have no excuse for not carving out time for those activities which I know are good for my heart and spiritual training and development.

I fear being legalistic, and I don't want to form a rigid list of unacceptable activities for the lent season, but I want to clear space and create positive changes that will carry past the 40 days until Easter. I love the concept of adding something sacrificial instead of sacrificially taking something way. However, I realize my day is a checkbook and whether I am conscious of it or not, I am actively writing checks for every minute of my time. So there's a check I'd like to cancel - actively seeking brainless distraction - so that I can cash it in for some quality time with God and my family.

Practically speaking, this means less online chatting, less status updating and checking, and completely cutting out the celebrity news/gossip columns (can I still read the Bachelor episode recaps and blogs by Chris Harrison?). This should give me ample time to accomplish the things I know I need and God asks for. To physically prepare for the drastic halt in information flow, I've removed social media apps from my iPhone and bookmarks from my web browser and temporarily turned off the chat functions on email and Facebook. I'm still going to blog because writing is more often thought-filled than mindless banter and it allows me to do much needed processing of life. I only share my thoughts on this to confess and be transparent with my struggles. It is embarrassing that my life, based on how I spend my time, has become so shallow. I anticipate this will be a challenge but have priceless rewards.

Backyard Olympics

Joe built a pair of roller-luges for frat boy olympics with his coworkers, and the daddy-son tandem team tested them out this weekend on the top floor of a downtown parking deck. I can't wait to see what kind of trouble my boys (both big and little ones) get into over the years. Joe was definitely the rock star of the afternoon.

Jesus Gets It All

There's a phrase that's been circulating our church for several years now, "Jesus gets it all." I think I first heard it from Pastor Nate during community group a couple years back, and gradually it's become common wordage amongst the staff and even the congregation. It calls to mind some of the words of one of my favorite hymns, "Jesus paid it all, all to him owe." Were these just words, I'd shrug them off as another saying we use to distinguish ourselves as believers and followers of Jesus; however, I'm seeing these words not just spoken, but lived out.

The more I meditate on the idea that Jesus does get it all, the less I see I have truly given over. If Jesus paid it all, then yearly donations of clothing to Goodwill, short-term missions trips, and donations to crisis relief efforts are not only inadequate responses but potentially inappropriate as well. When I think "All", weekly community group meetings, weekly tithing to the church, and Sunday-centric worship are not enough. Daily devotions, nightly prayers with Daniel, and faith-oriented blog posts don't suffice.

Giving it all to Jesus involves analyzing every aspect of my life in light of the Cross and relinquishing my rights of ownership, comfort and control so that God's glory might be revealed. Were this to preempt the gospel's transforming work on my heart, I would enslave myself to morality. Yet when this is my reaction to the gospel, I embark on a journey of unparalleled freedom and genuine, appropriate worship.

These words "Jesus gets it all" have become invasive to my soul - unsettling and threatening to my autonomy, my thought life, my hopes for my children, my bank account, my daily patterns, my relationships with spouse, family and friends. I question something as small as how to school my children, and Jesus reveals that is it not only the physical effects of my choices that matter, but my heart in how I questions my choices, how I view blessings, and the ultimate goals of my decisions. I am reminded over and over that God blesses us to bless other people through us - not so that we might sit in ease pondering how richly we have been blessed.

Joe and I have talked about how we feel compelled to something deeper and more dangerous in living out a life of worship, but nearly equal to that tug on our hearts is our resistance to close the flood gates and just launch out little care packages over our well fortified walls to a dying world. The problem is, the glory of Jesus and the power of the Cross continue to pound on our walls. They interrupt dinner. The chase off sleep. They demand more.

Thoughts About Schooling

Daniel is only two, but already we are having to make decisions about his schooling such as do we do Mom's Morning Out just one day a week or do we move him up to the two-day program in the fall? I know the questions only get more complicated the older he gets. Finding ourselves in the middle class, we probably have more options than some folks who have a single-parent household. For instance, while we probably won't opt for private schools, we could choose between homeschooling and the public school system.

I have long romanced the idea of homeschooling - getting to spend all day with my kids and introduce them to a wide variety of experiences they might not get in a public school. We could take fun field trips, explore various forms of art, learn trade skills, and allow them to find and explore the things that really excite them. We'd avoid the non-stop shuffling and disciplinary distractions of the public schools, thus reducing the time spent on actual classwork.

As for public schools, I struggle with the idea of trusting another teacher to be able to adequately prepare my kids for college and expand their minds, not because of her lack of experience or ability, but her lack of support from the state and school system due to overcrowding and underfunding. However, I see the pitfalls of removing my family from the system: the loss of a supportive family and actively involved parents in the classroom and PTA, a potential lack of social awareness and involvement on the part of myself and my children, and our potential alienation from the surrounding community due to an heir of eliteness (just to name a few). I really don't care about being judged by others for my choices, but if my choices isolate from the people God has called me to love and serve, this is problematic.

Recently, Vintage21 Church has started down a path of community involvement with Hunter Elementary School, which is just several blocks from my house. The number of children who are homeless and the even greater number who receive free lunch or lunch assistance brings great conviction to my heart. What if I were to stay home with my children providing them scholastic enrichment the very best of my ability, while so many children have no parents pouring into their lives, let alone anyone to even read to them? Is it right that I hole away in my home or with my friends and their children and use God's resources selfishly?

I am torn. I love my kids and obviously want to bless them with my resources, time, love, and ability to give them amazing learning opportunities. However, which would be the greatest blessing to their hearts: teaching them they deserve the very best or teaching them to share our best with others because Christ's love compels us to do so? Obviously there is a lot broken about the public school system and I am not willing to toss in my child and trust that he'll come out okay on the other end. However, I am not sure that the solution is total rejection of the system. I feel like perhaps I have a role in bringing renewal, but I have a lot to pray over in this arena before committing to decisions. I am excited to see what avenues the church takes towards restoration and see how this impact the hearts of the community.

I want to add that these thoughts are certainly not in judgment of my friends who are homeschooling. If anything, the amazing job these friends have done have inspired me even more to consider it as a serious option.

He Said, She Said

While walking through a seasonal section of Target...

Daniel: Jesus!

Me: No, Daniel, that is not Jesus. It is a leprechaun.

This was posted on Facebook and Twitter, but simply had to be saved for my remembrance. I just love two-year-olds, especially mine!

Pregnancy Insomnia

After Daniel was born, I wrote several times about my struggle with insomnia, my relationship with Ambien, and my struggle to understand where this comes from. After the last serious go around with insomnia back in April, it has mostly been smooth sailing. When I got pregnant this time, I was anxious to see if it would flare back up. I've read that upwards of 78% of pregnant women experience some form of insomnia, although this is mainly limited to the influx of hormones in the first trimester, and the general hugeness of the third trimester. Second trimester is supposed to be easy.

Well guess what? I am in my second trimester and insomnia is kicking my tail. For a couple months I've been waking up around 2 am and not falling back asleep until 4am, but I didn't really consider this a problem. I wasn't having any trouble falling asleep when I first went down and knew I'd eventually fall back asleep to finish out with about 6 hours of sleep (not ideal but manageable). This past week, the window of awake time has been gradually widening. It peaked on Monday night, when I woke up at 1:30 am and never went back to sleep. I was an emotional disaster the next morning, and my poor husband and best friend were seriously concerned for my mental health. After talking to my Obgyn nurse, I took the equivalent of a Tylenol PM on Tuesday night and got a good 8 hours of sleep with only a very short window of awake in the middle. I split up the Tylenol and Diphenhydramine HCl of Tylenol PM so as not to take what I don't need. Sometimes I don't need the painkiller, only the sleep aid.

Unfortunately, last night I went to bed at 11 pm and woke back up at 12:45 am only to toss and turn until 4 am when I asked my sweet husband to relocate to the guest room. I took half the sleep aid dose at 11 pm, and finished the other half at 2 am, and then took the two Tylenol between 3 and 4 am because my lower back and hips were achy. After 4, my left foot was doing these crazy spasms as if my body were just begging me to let it sleep. I did eventually fall asleep probably close to 5 am after trying to clear my mind and just let it wander into a dream state... sadly this was also after I rummaged the bathroom desperately trying to find my old prescription of Ambien, which Joe had tossed because it was past expiration.

I'm not sure why the medication didn't help last night. During the day, I had plenty of fluids (water, milk and juice), avoided caffeinated foods and beverages, got some physical activity, ate my veggies, I took a warm bath before bed, wore ear plugs and surrounded myself by pillows. I did all the right things. The only difference was that Joe started out in bed with me, whereas Tuesday night he slept in the guest bed to try and let me get my sleep. Maybe while he was not there, the bed was cooler and his tossing and breathing didn't disturb me. I know when my insomnia is bad, even him shifting his foot will send an electric jolt to my brain and make me fully awake again.

I'll be calling the nurse back to try and get a prescription of Ambien, although I'm not too excited about being dependent on that again. However, if the lines on the road start weaving while I'm sitting at a stop light like they did during my last spell of insomnia, I think the Ambien is probably a good call.

My Right To Be Exclusive

As a mother of a toddler and one on the way, I've frequently struggled with the idea of loving my community (my community group, the church community and the city) and doing ministry in a practical way that doesn't pull me from my call to care for my kids. I know this is a common feeling amongst my friends with young children. It seems that all I can muster up during the week is the must-do's and a weekly playgroup with a handful of my close girlfriends and their toddlers. It's a real struggle to find time for adult conversation, and this playgroup allows little 30 second snippets here and there.

As this playgroup grows, I feel resistance to inviting new people and have felt frustrated when my friends invite others. It's almost as if I believe I have the right to be exclusive. In reality, I can only be truly close friends with maybe two or three women at a time, so why do I get jealous of this group that is really too big for me handle? I've recently felt convicted of this exclusivity and a desire to be insular in the way I spend my time. I like hanging out with people I'm already close to, and I hate the thought of these friends finding people they like better than me! Sure, I need to make time with my close friends a priority, but playgroup is insane! It certainly doesn't replace a girls' night out or a long conversation over coffee.

It makes me sad to think there are mothers in the church who feel isolated because no one has loved them or worse... because I'm being exclusive. I don't believe I'm called to be best friends with everyone, but maybe I'm supposed to facilitate a comfy hangout where those mothers meet people that draw them into community where they do find a kindred soul. Even better, maybe women outside of my church who don't know Jesus feel cared for and loved into a community where they meet Jesus! And yet, even more amazing, my children see what it is to love people to Jesus by simply being hospitable with our home and a little conversation and play time and hopefully will live this out in their own lives as they grow their own families and show people Jesus.


There's a little group on Facebook (Downtown Raleigh Playgroup) that has been slowly growing, and we're at the point now where we need to add new days for playgroups because our number is just too big for one person's house! If you are a mom or an expectant mother, please feel free to join the group and either start a playgroup time with the families in your community and invite your friends - or just show up to one of the posted events and meet some new women and kids. If you find some women and kids you and yours really gel with, follow up with them!

Order Your Tomato Plants!

Friends, if you are in the Raleigh area, I'm taking orders now for tomato plants ($1 a piece). They will be ready for pickup  in early-mid April. Let me know how many and which kind you want and I'll start a plant for you. I'm working from two kinds of seeds: newly store-bought seeds and saved seeds from last year's garden. Below, I've added links to the seed varieties if you'd rather start your own plants from seed or view pictures of each.

I did not try and prevent cross-pollination last summer. Typically, this isn't too bad because tomatoes are self-pollinators, but the close proximity of my plant varieties and the presence of those little yellow clustered tomatoes might have altered the strain by cross-pollinating. We will call those "Paige's Surprise" varieties. I'll tell you what they should be, but there's no guarantee that they will hold true to that description.

Brandywine (Sudduth's) - This seed is from the Seed Savers Exchange. "(a.k.a. Pink Brandywine) Brandywine first appeared in the 1889 catalog of Johnson & Stokes of Philadelphia and by 1902 was also offered by four additional seed companies, but soon disappeared from all commercial catalogs. Our best selling tomato and one of the best tasting tomatoes available to gardeners today. The seed of this strain was obtained by tomato collector Ben Quisenberry of Big Tomato Gardens in 1980 from Dorris Sudduth Hill whose family grew them for 80 years. Large pink beefsteak fruits to 2 pounds. Incredibly rich, delightfully intense tomato flavor. Indeterminate, 90 days from transplan

Mortgage Lifter VNF - This seed is from Southern Exposure Seed Exchange. "83 days. (ab, asc, vw, fw1, rkn) (Indeterminate) An improved version of 'Radiator Charlie's Mortgage LifterTM' which has added disease resistance, more uniform fruit, ripening to red rather than pink-red. Fruit is large, 10-14 oz, not as large as the original 'Mortgage Lifter', but much more productive. It still deserves the 'Mortgage Lifter' reputation and is one of our most productive and reliable tomatoes. Continues to bear until frost." These seeds were certified organic.

Omar's Lebanese - I purchased this certified organic seed off a grower on Ebay. Best description I've found was from Laurel's Heirloom Tomato Plants. "80 days. The big one! Omar's Lebanese has a passionately sweet and complex flavor. These immense fruits--deep dark pink and juicy--grow to 3-4 lbs, with excellent disease resistance. A spectacular tomato. Really easy to grow, out of this world. Takes 2 hands to pick it. In my top 5."

Paige's Surprise (Pink) - This seed was taken from a large beefsteak with lot's of flesh and very few seeds. I am pretty sure it was a Dutchman pink from a Burpee's mixed packet, although it might have been Omar's (sadly, Burpee's packet gave no good way to tell the beefsteaks apart). Reimer Seeds carries Dutchman Tomato. "80 days. Lycopersicon esculentum. Compact plant produces good yields of 3 lb purple-pink tomatoes. The tomato has almost solid fleah and very few seeds. An old heirloom variety from the 1920's. Indeterminate."

Paige's Surprise (Red) - I believe this seed was taken from an Omar's Lebanese Tomato from the Burpee's mixed pack. My bag of seeds reads, "Large, sweet, beefsteak". See above description of Omar's.

Paige's Surprise (Green) - This seed was taken from an Aunt Ruby's German Green tomato from the Burpee's mixed pack. The Seed Saver's Exchange carries this variety. "A great heirloom from Ruby Arnold of Greenville, Tennessee, introduced to SSE by Bill Minkey in 1993. Beefsteak fruits, 5" by 4" deep, weigh one pound or more. Sweet juicy flesh, refreshing spicy flavor. Pick by feel, not look; ready when soft to the touch. Indeterminate, 80 days from transplant."

Paige's Surprise (Black) - This seed was taken from a Black Russian by Burpee. The closest I've found online (because it seems Burpee no longer carries this seed or the aforementioned varieties from the mixed pack) is Black Krim from The Seed Saver's Exchange. "Named for the Crimean peninsula in the Black Sea. Slightly flattened 4-5" globes with dark greenish-black shoulders, turns almost black with enough heat and sun. Excellent full flavor. Indeterminate, 69-90 days from transplant."

*If you are starting something else from seed that you think I'd like to make a trade for, just mention it!

How Not to Potty Train a Toddler

Also titled "How to Ruin a Perfectly Good Shower"

1. Allow a lucky week of diarrhea and potty fascination to trigger your over-zealous desire to potty train your toddler.

2. Once the toddler is over the diarrhea and once again refusing to do #2 on the toilet, turn up the denial knob in your brain.

3. Go to K-mart and buy toddler briefs decorated in your child's favorite PBS show theme.

4. Convince yourself that your toddler would never ever poop on Percy or Thomas.

5. Wait until the toddler has been needing to poop all morning but refusing because he is not wearing a diaper, and put him in the "Percy Pants".

6. Take him, a potty and some chocolate milk into the bathroom and begin your shower.

7. Let the water get good and steamy and begin to wet your hair.

8. Wait for it...

9. Just a little longer...

10. Yes. We now have Percy Poo.

11. Open shower door and carefully strip crying toddler and in the most careful way possible, leave the poo on Percy and get the toddler into the shower.

12. Sing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" as you soap up the toddler and rinse.

13. Sacrifice your dry towel and set the toddler back outside on the shower mat.

14. Try to enjoy the rest of your shower despite the puppy dog eyes staring at you from the other side of the door.

Why Doughnuts Shouldn't Be Left Unattended

He Said, She Said

Discussing a can of mixed nuts that Joe ate...

Joe: You don't know if that's a sell by date or a best by date.
Paige: Does it matter? It was two-and-a-half years ago!

Belly Pic, 21 Weeks, 5 Days

So, there's me and baby... All 8" and 1lb of him and the extra 10+ lbs of me. He and I have been making a very nice dent in the sofa, which is certain to fluff back up once he's born and I never ever get to sit on the sofa again - or so I am told. We currently crave chocolate... all four of us. I've made and frozen Daniel chocolate chip squash pancakes, to which he is none the wiser. Two days ago I bribed him with chocolate chips to eat some pureed green beans, and chocolate milk has become a staple for all of us.

I can't be your friend because you're too pretty

What is it about body image that emotionally confines us to living with our own preconceived ideas of people's character and their judgment of us? Generally, I am deluded enough to classify myself as a nonjudgmental woman, one who bases her friendships on character, common interests, shared humor, etc. However, recently I've found myself living out old high school insecurities about my physical appearance, allowing it to dictate how I approach other women and how I think they are approaching me.

I have lumped a whole group of women together and labeled them as "pretty girls" and decided that they all like each other because they are pretty and smile a lot and don't share my cynical and occasionally goofy humor. I've decided they don't pursue me because I am over-educated and nerdy and haven't ever spent more than $80 on a pair of jeans and mostly wear chacos or equally heel-less yet functional footwear. The ironies of my feelings and treatment of the pretty girls really hit me today. I want to be accepted and enjoyed by them, but I have judged them and kept them at bay. I want to be seen as pretty and friendly as them, but I feel like I am always out to prove I am not like them. It struck me that the reason I may not always be pursued is because they sense the harsh criticism in my eyes and feel that nasty woman-envy vibe emanating from my unmanicured fingertips.

It is frankly embarrassing that I, a 29 year old woman with a growing family, artsy hobbies and a PhD in engineering would be so petty. Sadly, education, sophistication and successful procreation do nothing for a person's character. As I look a little deeper into the state of my heart, I see that my harsh judgments and self-alienation are not based on personal insecurities. There is no truth to what I believe about the nature of the women that I have crudely labeled. It has nothing to do with my body image or the way I have been treated. I can't even blame it on pregnancy hormones. The problem is I fail to view myself and others through Jesus's eyes. I view other women comparatively and competitively rather than in celebration of the creativity of the Father in shaping each of our hearts, minds and bodies. I've allowed cultural stereotypes to sway my thinking. I've let a history of lies and hurts restrict my ability to be loving and accepting.

Just a few minutes ago, I was reading a post by my friend Courtney that really struck a chord in my heart. She had been struggling with her own nature of harsh thoughts and words and was convicted that her lack of understanding of the gospel was the root her problem. She wrote of how Jesus's work on the cross was not just to save us, but to transform us into His likeness. When I reflect on my recent struggles and emotions that have been bubbling up, I see that the gospel is the root of them. The only way to be transformed by Jesus is to stand before Him, to look at Him, to listen to Him. Recently, I have not drawn close, and as my last post discussed, I have not been as fervent to be near Him as I want to be.

I will never in my life be able to gain the confidence through humor, smarts, appearance, success that I need to be more loving and less judging towards other people. The whole, "gotta love yourself before you can love others" is complete crap in my book. I can only drop my guard and have a pure heart by drawing near to Jesus who does love perfectly.

Christians and Booklists

About a year ago, Joe and I got into a religious discussion with his family. Someone was asking why we needed anything other than scripture (the Bible) to know God? I argued that God imparts his knowledge to us through various means, friends, nature, the wisdom of theologians and authors, etc, but recently I've found myself asking, "Why do we need any book other than the Bible to know God?"

Christian circles love recommending books: books for her heart, books for his heart, books for raising godly children, books about how to love people, books about how to listen to God, books about discipline, books about how to read the Bible, books about how to stop sinning, books about how to spend your money, eat your food, tie your shoes. While I'm sure these books are helpful, sometimes I feel that because I am not reading all these books that I'm less worthy, that I'm a failure as a Christian, that I don't really love Jesus. I feel like maybe there is a part of Jesus I just won't get because I didn't read the right books. And to be perfectly honest, sometimes I just want to say no because I'm being told to read them. And to be even more honest, some of these books (those of the more female directed touchy-feely mushy nature) make me gag.

Is not the Bible the living, breathing word of God? Is it not "useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work"? What did the people of Jesus's time have for reference in understanding his teachings? Was is not what we now call (and sometimes avoid) the Old Testament? I fear that we make knowing God so much more complicated than it actually is. Jesus cautions us to approach him as children.

Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.

I strongly believe the simplest minds and the most educated minds should be able to read the Bible and meet Jesus. I believe that God has made himself accessible through scripture and yet in our most complex understanding we are barely scratching the surface of understanding His mind and heart.

So why all the books? Why do we need someone to guide us in spending time with God? Why do we need someone else to tell us truth about who we are? Why do we need someone to remind us of our flaws and evil tendencies? Why can we not take God's word for it? My guess is we don't know how to read God's word. We find it cumbersome. We find it overwhelming. We find it mystifying. It sometimes penetrates us and sometimes bounces right off our hard hearts. We think we should be able to sit down and in ten short minutes grasp the complex nature of God. The Bible is just too much for us to handle. We fear it. I know during times of overpowering darkness in my heart, I was afraid to even touch it or open it. I feel a little awkward using my iphone to read it in the bathtub even. Sadly, most of us have not read it cover to cover. Instead, we shell out thousands of dollars on how to's: how to know God.

From John 1

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light.

The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. John bore witness about him, and cried out, "This was he of whom I said, 'He who comes after me ranks before me, because he was before me.'"And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known.

I'm not advocating a massive Christian book burning or that we not still read these books, but I am advocating questioning in whom we place our trust. I'm advocating assessing our motives. I'm advocating hiding scripture in our hearts so at the right time, God's words are living and breathing into our lives, not some catchy quote from women's devotional author. Right now I am really struggling to read anything at all. I am questioning these things above and questioning why my passion for scripture and for Jesus isn't what it should be. I'm praying for a renewed hunger for God's word and the thirst to drink Him deeply.

What Big Boys Do

Some of the mundane things our children do are completely fascinating to us simply because they are our children. Especially at the age of two, there are things that one day they are unable to do or say and the next day they have nearly mastered. The past couple weeks, Daniel has been blowing me away with things that are quite simple, but to a mother are heartwarming.

Daniel has newly discovered his innate ninja skills. All toddler boys have them. At any given moment (after eating something sweet in particular), he is likely to begin air chopping and kicking, not in an aggressive way, but I have taken a foot to the teeth and a palm to the nose on several occasions. I explain it's not okay to hit and kick people and make him say sorry, and then I forgive him and we're cool. Last night on the couch, he chopped my face. I looked at him very seriously and said, "That hurt mommy. You don't hit mommy." Very sincerely he looked at me and quietly said, "Sorry." This was the first unsolicited "sorry" and after I said, "It's okay, I forgive you," he slightly grinned and puckered up for a kiss. I was completely beaming.

In the past couple weeks, Daniel has transitioned from his crib to his bed. The first night was smooth sailing, but then he fought bed time harder than he's ever fought before. After two or three nights of a drop and run, Daniel finally accepted that his big bed was a good place and now he will even climb into bed on his own and wait for his blankets, prayer, and kiss. Around 10:30pm I go and tuck his blankets back in and he usually rolls over for another kiss and to say, "love, love , love." The first couple mornings he would wake up and call for me to get him, just like in the crib. Then a week later after a nap, I found his curtains drawn back the the blinds disheveled. The next day his shoes that we had left on the floor were in his bed. Two mornings later, he went to his bedroom door. This morning he came all the way to my bed with blankets and monkey in tow. It's been wonderful watching his confidence grow! Thankfully, his new independence has not cut into sleep time as he still naps for 2-3 hours and sleeps from 8:30pm-7:30am.

One of our more funny interactions has been over this cute Paul Frank shirt I got on clearance from target. I figured Daniel loves monkies, so I showed him this shirt with a monkey whose head was covered in green goo and told him, "Monkey mess!" He thought it was great, but when I tried to get him to try it on for size, he began yelling, "No! No! Monkey Mess! No!" Daniel really doesn't like messes - goo on his hands or face, or when his own monkey gets dirty. I still bought the shirt because I thought he was just tired from shopping, but the exact thing happened yesterday when I put it on him. Through careful distraction, he finally quit fussing and let me dress him, but definitely was still very much aware that this monkey was a MESS - Daniel's one four letter word.