This is for you, Dad...
Sunday, February 28, 2010
And now... the news you've all been waiting for...
Her Name Is...
Caroline Louise Stahr (Caro-Line)
Caroline, one of the top 100 names of 1890; Louise after Andrew's Great Aunt Louise. We call her Caroline.
And now... since I'm sure many of you are just dying to do this...
Everyone sing along..."Sweet Caroline... Da, da, da... Good times never felt so good..."
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Polls are NOW Closed... it's a GIRL!!!
Sorry. Thought you'd all have a little more time to vote than less than 24 hours!
On Friday, 26 February 2010, at 12:45 in the AM, we welcomed a new baby GIRL to our home. She was 6 lbs., 4 oz. and 18.75 inches long. She doesn't fit into anything that we have, so she spent the first 24 hours in nothing but a diaper and blankets, but she's figured out the eating part (MOO...) really well, and will soon fit into the clothes that we have.
Baby was born here at home, and the recovery and time down has been (for me) better than recovery after a hospital birth.
Pictures and a name to follow... as soon as we agree on a name...
On Friday, 26 February 2010, at 12:45 in the AM, we welcomed a new baby GIRL to our home. She was 6 lbs., 4 oz. and 18.75 inches long. She doesn't fit into anything that we have, so she spent the first 24 hours in nothing but a diaper and blankets, but she's figured out the eating part (MOO...) really well, and will soon fit into the clothes that we have.
Baby was born here at home, and the recovery and time down has been (for me) better than recovery after a hospital birth.
Pictures and a name to follow... as soon as we agree on a name...
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
If anyone reads this blog...
Please vote on what Gender you think this new baby will be! I'm beginning to think I blog in vain... (The one vote is Margaret's. She's convinced that we're having a Girl...) We welcome other voters... and you don't even have to tell us who you are!
Happy 27th! (Again...)
Yesterday, my Mom turned 27. Again. She's been 27 for a long time, but told me once that she was entitled to pick her own age once she'd hit a certain spot in her life, and she was going to stay 27 forever. "Keeps ya young, you know!" (I stole this picture from my sister, Charity's blog because ALL the pictures I have of my family are on the other computer... Thanks, Charity, for taking such great photos!)
So I thought I'd share some of the memories I have of my Mom.
1. When I went on my mission, I put my Mom's name on my bank account so that she could transfer money without any issues. The lady at the bank asked me how old Mom was, and I told her, "27." The rest of the conversation went something like this. "How old are you?" "21" "And your Mom is 27?!" "That's what she's said my entire life!" "Is she your REAL Mom?" "Yes." "Why don't you have your Mom come in to see us..."
2. One sunny afternoon, I was sitting on the deck waiting for the last few minutes before I had to go babysitting. Mom came out to water her plants, and took that moment to "water" me. The entire pitcher down my back. I should probably admit that I deserved it, since a few weeks earlier we had ambushed Mom at the Farm I worked at and completely soaked her while saying... "Make her grow..." I guess what goes around comes around...
3. Mom taking me to violin lessons, multiple tryouts for the Anchorage Jr. High Honor Orchestra AND Anchorage Youth Symphony (I don't know who was more relieved when I finally made the Youth Symphony - me, for not having to audition any more, or HER for not having to drive me that far any more!), encouraging me to get a JOB when I was in High School, coming to my Volleyball Game - and then encouraging me to NOT stick with a coach who wasn't going to treat me fairly... and teaching me that I am my own person, capable of making choices that are good. And supporting me in them - even the hard ones.
4. My Drivers test. I'm still not sure how Mom knew that I had stopped in the middle of the road and backed up after the light turned yellow because I didn't want to fail my drivers test...
5. Trusting me enough to send me to the hobby shop in Palmer for a can of spray paint three days after I got my driver's license knowing that I would more than likely take the long road home... and then not getting mad when I drove the car off a straight stretch and up a tree. (It's also something that I will NEVER live down, but hey. It could be worse!) I was most humiliated that it happened on a Wednesday night (Mutual Night), and the most popular guy in school happened to see the "A-2 Septic, we're TWICE as good" Truck pulling me out of the ditch. The ENTIRE Mutual program knew that I had "ditched" the car before I even got there. I'll never forget it either.
6. Supporting me through ALL of my trials - "If I asked the Lord to take away my Trials, I'd have to ask Him to take my blessings too."
7. Eating Hamburger Tator Tot Casserole (HTTC) EVERY SINGLE TIME I was asked to make dinner - no matter how many times Dad suggested that they go out for dinner... And then teaching me to make other things so that I could expand my cooking knowledge. Imagine what Andrew's life would be like now if all we ever ate was HTTC?
8. Going to the Temple with me for the first time - and then going to the MTC with me (and, I'm sure, wondering why she was the only one crying...)
9. Teaching me how to disect a grasshopper when I was 7 during her version of Summer School so that I would continue to learn even when not in a formal classroom.
10. All those clothes that she spent hours sewing for me. I never appreciated them as a child; now that I'm hating putting zippers into clothes, I can appreciate that she actually finished all those dresses in time for Christmas. I finished MY Christmas dresses in time for St. Patrick's day... and Mom's actually fit me for longer than 6 weeks (which may be all that Savannah's will fit her!).
11. Finally, letting me learn the hard way that living with Leslie was not the best way to save a friendship. Although we had some good times, ("It's only flat on one side?!" and Spanish Rice?) and made some memories, it was a learning experience I probably should have listened on. Leslie and I would more than likely be better friends now...
And there are a zillion other things that I could put; notwithstanding and nonethe less the fact that she gave birth to me (don't remember it, but I'm grateful anyway), she's been there for me even when I was rotten and I'm sure she didn't WANT to be there... and she's never given up on any of us. I've got a pretty great Mom.
So... Happy Birthday, Mom. Hope the Hamburger, French Fries and Rootbeer Float for $3.00 was worth it! And here's to another 34 of those 27-year old birthdays! (You know... when you've been 27 as long (or longer...) as some of your children have been alive, perhaps it would be o.k. to move to 37... at least then you'd only be 2 years older than me...)
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Life's Lessons
At the risk of sounding like the meanest Mom in the World, I have to share some of the lessons that the girls (particularly Savannah) have learned this past month.
Lesson 1. Mom's serious when she says something, and she doesn't play around.
Lesson 2. Cleaning the chicken coop over doing school work isn't as much fun as it sounds.
Now. The stories behind the lessons learned at our house this last month.
For weeks, I've been telling the girls that they need to keep their toys in their locations when they're finished playing with them. The consequence for NOT keeping their toys organized when they're not being played with is that the infamous and somewhat dreaded Gunny Sack comes to eat them. Usually, Gunny doesn't spit them back out, and other children end up with new toys. Not so in this case. After giving the girls the chance to "govern themselves" with some guidance for a week, and then for an entire day, Gunny had reached her starvation point. One Friday, the girls were given the chance to clean their room. In the Stahr home, this means: make your beds, put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket, pick up the Barbies and the Little Pet Shop things (the only two sets of toys in their room), and make sure the books are on the shelf. I've worked with them many times to make sure that they understand this concept. At the end of the aforementioned Friday, I went into their room to see how far they'd come. As a side note, at the beginning of the day, the only things to do were to make their beds and pick up the Barbies. Much to my surprise, (or maybe not too surprising...) Margaret's mattress was OFF the bed, all of their clothes were out of the dressers, the books were all over the floor, ALL of the toys were scattered all over, and it looked like Hurricane Andrew had returned.
Several deep breaths later, I banished the girls from their room and went to work. That lasted for a sum total of 15 minutes before I realized that I was cleaning out of anger and spite, and in that case, Gunny would have not taken toys to Goodwill, but rather to the burn pile, never to be seen again. I calmly walked out of the room, closed the door behind me, and told the girls - calmly, that they were not allowed to clean their room, and that they were not allowed to touch anything in their room, except for their beds.
The following day, I followed through on a promise made weeks earlier that if they couldn't keep their room picked up, the toys were not going to be allowed in their room. Currently, the girls are discovering that swings and books are their friends while their toys are on vacation in the basement - nicely organized into their own little containers. We're going to a "check-out" system for the toys. As soon as I get the cards made up for each drawer or tote. I understand that this isn't a permanent solution to the problem, but it seems to have solved the "I can't function in all this chaos" issue. And they're a lot more appreciative of "play with toys" time.
Lesson 2: Education is important. I've learned this my entire life. Home schooling, while it has its benefits (and I really wouldn't quit for anything at this point, no matter how challenging it may be), also has its challenges. Some are a little harder to solve than others. When I was a teenager, I learned a valuable lesson on the importance of an education. I decided that I didn't want to go to school, and was given a choice: "You can go to school, or you can work around the house." I thought it would be more fun to work around the house. Boy was I ever wrong. It started with scrubbing buckets... with a toothbrush. Then, it went to mopping the kitchen floor... on my hands and knees. (Sometimes I think my parents didn't start believing in mops until I was MUCH older...) And the list went on, until I was more than ready to go back to school the next day. To my Mom's credit, her plan worked. I didn't miss another day of school unless I was truly ill, and COULDN'T get out of bed.
So... I employed the same tactic as Mom did. Only, I'd already DONE all of the inside housework the day before, leaving only the seriously nasty jobs outside to be done.
Savannah has advanced in her math skills to a 3rd grade level. Unfortunately for her, the front of her workbook says, "Appropriate for students in GRADE 4". She thinks I'm trying to get her to skip all of third grade math. She decided yesterday that she would rather NOT do school. Ever. At All. So, I gave her a choice. "You can either do your school work, or you can shovel out the chicken coop." We have 5 hens, and their coop hasn't been cleaned since last summer. I made SURE she was aware of all the ramifications involved in cleaning out the coop, including telling her that it was a dirty, nasty job - and then let her make the choice. I also informed her that once she started the coop, she would be responsible for finishing it.
No matter HOW I feel about Math, I would still choose the math over the poop. Several hours later, after Savannah's choice of shovel and pail (and I mean Sand bucket and toy shovel) were elongating the hours she'd been in the poo..., she decided that it was much more fun to do math. Unfortunately, she also learned at this point in time that I was serious about her finishing a project once she'd started on it.
At 5 PM, I walked to the coop with Savannah to see how far she'd come. She informed me that she'd divided the coop into quarters (see, she was doing math after all...), and that she'd finished one quarter of the poop scoop. She'd done a marvelous job. For someone who had poop up to their knees, she'd done very well moving the poop from one side of the coop to the other.
Mercy took over, and I had her go in the house and get cleaned up - after asking her if she still wanted to not do school. She decided to weigh her options with the NEXT dirty job... and then I informed her that if the FIRST dirty job was to clean out the chicken coop, the SECOND wasn't going to be more fun... Justice still had to be served with the chicken coop - and it still needed to be finished. This morning, I helped her to make sure that it was a lot more manageable for an 8 year old.
Working in the temple has its benefits - at least for this 8 year old. I started to think about how harsh I'd been on her; after all, that's a lot of poop, and she's not any bigger than half the shovel! Working together, we took an hour to finish the cleaning of the coop. I still think that she's going to choose Math over Poop next time...
The lesson - for every action, there is an opposite (although not always equal) reaction... And Mom doesn't back down on the dirty jobs. I think I'd take the bucket scrubbing over chicken coop cleaning any day. And I'll take an education over ANY of that.
Lesson 1. Mom's serious when she says something, and she doesn't play around.
Lesson 2. Cleaning the chicken coop over doing school work isn't as much fun as it sounds.
Now. The stories behind the lessons learned at our house this last month.
For weeks, I've been telling the girls that they need to keep their toys in their locations when they're finished playing with them. The consequence for NOT keeping their toys organized when they're not being played with is that the infamous and somewhat dreaded Gunny Sack comes to eat them. Usually, Gunny doesn't spit them back out, and other children end up with new toys. Not so in this case. After giving the girls the chance to "govern themselves" with some guidance for a week, and then for an entire day, Gunny had reached her starvation point. One Friday, the girls were given the chance to clean their room. In the Stahr home, this means: make your beds, put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket, pick up the Barbies and the Little Pet Shop things (the only two sets of toys in their room), and make sure the books are on the shelf. I've worked with them many times to make sure that they understand this concept. At the end of the aforementioned Friday, I went into their room to see how far they'd come. As a side note, at the beginning of the day, the only things to do were to make their beds and pick up the Barbies. Much to my surprise, (or maybe not too surprising...) Margaret's mattress was OFF the bed, all of their clothes were out of the dressers, the books were all over the floor, ALL of the toys were scattered all over, and it looked like Hurricane Andrew had returned.
Several deep breaths later, I banished the girls from their room and went to work. That lasted for a sum total of 15 minutes before I realized that I was cleaning out of anger and spite, and in that case, Gunny would have not taken toys to Goodwill, but rather to the burn pile, never to be seen again. I calmly walked out of the room, closed the door behind me, and told the girls - calmly, that they were not allowed to clean their room, and that they were not allowed to touch anything in their room, except for their beds.
The following day, I followed through on a promise made weeks earlier that if they couldn't keep their room picked up, the toys were not going to be allowed in their room. Currently, the girls are discovering that swings and books are their friends while their toys are on vacation in the basement - nicely organized into their own little containers. We're going to a "check-out" system for the toys. As soon as I get the cards made up for each drawer or tote. I understand that this isn't a permanent solution to the problem, but it seems to have solved the "I can't function in all this chaos" issue. And they're a lot more appreciative of "play with toys" time.
Lesson 2: Education is important. I've learned this my entire life. Home schooling, while it has its benefits (and I really wouldn't quit for anything at this point, no matter how challenging it may be), also has its challenges. Some are a little harder to solve than others. When I was a teenager, I learned a valuable lesson on the importance of an education. I decided that I didn't want to go to school, and was given a choice: "You can go to school, or you can work around the house." I thought it would be more fun to work around the house. Boy was I ever wrong. It started with scrubbing buckets... with a toothbrush. Then, it went to mopping the kitchen floor... on my hands and knees. (Sometimes I think my parents didn't start believing in mops until I was MUCH older...) And the list went on, until I was more than ready to go back to school the next day. To my Mom's credit, her plan worked. I didn't miss another day of school unless I was truly ill, and COULDN'T get out of bed.
So... I employed the same tactic as Mom did. Only, I'd already DONE all of the inside housework the day before, leaving only the seriously nasty jobs outside to be done.
Savannah has advanced in her math skills to a 3rd grade level. Unfortunately for her, the front of her workbook says, "Appropriate for students in GRADE 4". She thinks I'm trying to get her to skip all of third grade math. She decided yesterday that she would rather NOT do school. Ever. At All. So, I gave her a choice. "You can either do your school work, or you can shovel out the chicken coop." We have 5 hens, and their coop hasn't been cleaned since last summer. I made SURE she was aware of all the ramifications involved in cleaning out the coop, including telling her that it was a dirty, nasty job - and then let her make the choice. I also informed her that once she started the coop, she would be responsible for finishing it.
No matter HOW I feel about Math, I would still choose the math over the poop. Several hours later, after Savannah's choice of shovel and pail (and I mean Sand bucket and toy shovel) were elongating the hours she'd been in the poo..., she decided that it was much more fun to do math. Unfortunately, she also learned at this point in time that I was serious about her finishing a project once she'd started on it.
At 5 PM, I walked to the coop with Savannah to see how far she'd come. She informed me that she'd divided the coop into quarters (see, she was doing math after all...), and that she'd finished one quarter of the poop scoop. She'd done a marvelous job. For someone who had poop up to their knees, she'd done very well moving the poop from one side of the coop to the other.
Mercy took over, and I had her go in the house and get cleaned up - after asking her if she still wanted to not do school. She decided to weigh her options with the NEXT dirty job... and then I informed her that if the FIRST dirty job was to clean out the chicken coop, the SECOND wasn't going to be more fun... Justice still had to be served with the chicken coop - and it still needed to be finished. This morning, I helped her to make sure that it was a lot more manageable for an 8 year old.
Working in the temple has its benefits - at least for this 8 year old. I started to think about how harsh I'd been on her; after all, that's a lot of poop, and she's not any bigger than half the shovel! Working together, we took an hour to finish the cleaning of the coop. I still think that she's going to choose Math over Poop next time...
The lesson - for every action, there is an opposite (although not always equal) reaction... And Mom doesn't back down on the dirty jobs. I think I'd take the bucket scrubbing over chicken coop cleaning any day. And I'll take an education over ANY of that.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Kids say the Darndest Things...
The other day Margaret calmly announced that she was going to the bathroom. Why, I don't know. As she's taking care of business, suddenly I hear, "Mom? Did Jesus have to Poop?"
I was flabbergasted. And of course, I answered, "I'm pretty sure he did...." To which she said, "Why?" My answer? "Because everybody poops."
End of discussion.
I was flabbergasted. And of course, I answered, "I'm pretty sure he did...." To which she said, "Why?" My answer? "Because everybody poops."
End of discussion.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Margaret's Big Day... the Big 0-4!
I'll have pictures in a later post, but I wanted to detailize the events of the day... before they are no longer in my memory.
To start the day, Margaret announced about a week and a half before her birthday that for her special birthday dinner she wanted Macaroni and Cheese. The Yellow Kind. From the Box. I had to get special permission from her to make some homestyle macaroni and cheese for the adults who would be in attendance; which she very reluctantly granted. However, we're all grateful that she gave in.
For her birthday dessert, she was insistent on Cherry Pie. When the time came to MAKE the pies, she told me that if I wanted to, I could make an apple pie. So I did. And that's the one that she wanted after all. They were both good. (Not anything like the Shaker Lemon or Lime Pies that I made Andrew for his birthday. Those were inedible.)
I think the highlight of her day was getting a new barbie doll house, and having Macaroni and Cheese. From the Box. While Andrew was putting the homestyle Mac and Cheese into the Skillet to brown, Margaret came into the kitchen, looked at what he was doing, and said (in a very hurt tone of voice), "I thought you said I could have the Yellow kind! From the Box!" I had to quickly show her that I had made her some of her very own dinner, and that the only other people who would eat it were Savannah and LeGrand. I think there were a couple other people who tried the Kraft, but the Bacon Ranch Macaroni was a big hit.
In fact, for all who are interested... Here's the recipe:
If you want the other kind, just go to the local grocery store and pick up a box of Kraft... follow the directions. Serve to your children while you eat the other kind. It's really worth it!
And I'll get pictures up as soon as they're on the computer.
To start the day, Margaret announced about a week and a half before her birthday that for her special birthday dinner she wanted Macaroni and Cheese. The Yellow Kind. From the Box. I had to get special permission from her to make some homestyle macaroni and cheese for the adults who would be in attendance; which she very reluctantly granted. However, we're all grateful that she gave in.
For her birthday dessert, she was insistent on Cherry Pie. When the time came to MAKE the pies, she told me that if I wanted to, I could make an apple pie. So I did. And that's the one that she wanted after all. They were both good. (Not anything like the Shaker Lemon or Lime Pies that I made Andrew for his birthday. Those were inedible.)
I think the highlight of her day was getting a new barbie doll house, and having Macaroni and Cheese. From the Box. While Andrew was putting the homestyle Mac and Cheese into the Skillet to brown, Margaret came into the kitchen, looked at what he was doing, and said (in a very hurt tone of voice), "I thought you said I could have the Yellow kind! From the Box!" I had to quickly show her that I had made her some of her very own dinner, and that the only other people who would eat it were Savannah and LeGrand. I think there were a couple other people who tried the Kraft, but the Bacon Ranch Macaroni was a big hit.
In fact, for all who are interested... Here's the recipe:
Bacon Ranch Macaroni and Cheese
16 oz. Curly Noodles, cooked and drained according to package
directions
1/2 package bacon, cooked until crisp and drained (And Justin, you get to
pick the size of the package... it is, after all, bacon!)
1 c. 2% Milk
1/4 c. butter
1 package Ranch Dressing mix
1 tsp. Garlic Salt
1 tsp. Lemon Pepper
1 tsp. Garlic Pepper
8 oz. Sour Cream
1 c. (4 oz) shredded Monterey Jack Cheese
1 c. (4 oz) shredded Colby Jack Cheese
1/3 c. grated Parmesan Cheese
1/2 c. crushed Saltine Crackers
Cook Pasta. Meanwhile, in Dutch oven, combine Milk, butter, Ranch
dressing and seasonings until heated through. Add Montery Jack and Colby
Jack Cheeses; stir until melted. Stir in Bacon Bits and Sour Cream until
well blended. Add noodles with Saltine Crackers, top with Parmesan
Cheese. Serve. This is Tasty! Serves 8; comes together in less
than 1/2 hour. There were no leftovers.
If you want the other kind, just go to the local grocery store and pick up a box of Kraft... follow the directions. Serve to your children while you eat the other kind. It's really worth it!
And I'll get pictures up as soon as they're on the computer.
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