Learning to copy...I mean, cook!

I am no health nut. Among some of my favorite foods are McDonald's and ball park nachos. I like my food fried and in large quantities. What's funny is, I don't cook this way. I have never fried any food in our kitchen. We eat our meats baked, seared, grilled...not fried. My favorite vegetable is french fries, but we don't eat those at home...very often. :)

Before I became a wife, back when I was just a girl, I couldn't cook a thing. I remember calling my mom on the phone when I was 19 or 20 and saying, "I bought this chicken breast. What do I do with it?" A few years later I had learned a few things, like the fact that men like to eat. AND they prefer good food, just like us! So while I was bound and determined to get me one ;) I also took him with me to Patsy's Cooking Class. (This is not an official cooking class. Patsy was the mother of one of my middle school students at the time. She loved to cook and we loved her, so she taught us some of her favorite recipes. We cooked huge batches of stuffed shells, fried shrimp, homemade pesto, fried chicken, pastas with loads of ingredients I didn't eat at the time, etc. right from her own kitchen. We would take home a batch to have for dinner that night, she kept a batch for dinner for her family, and then the third batch went to some family she knew that was in need of a home cooked meal. This is, by the way, an amazing ministry older women can do for younger women.)

So I learned some basics to cooking as I fell in love with Hubby. By the time we were engaged, I became frantic about how I would prepare meals (every day?!)  and he became nervous about what he might have to eat from then on. Which is just ridiculous if you as me, because it's not really a quesadilla if there's a Kraft single between the tortillas.

Over the last four years, I've learned a lot. I can boast of some pretty delicious meals. But I am not a genius in the kitchen. Do you know what I mean? Have you met those women who can create? They just look in their pantry and fridge and throw something together and it's beautiful and scrumptious? I don't create. I am no artist. I am a copycat. Which is why I frolic in the world of genius cookbooks. Nearly every meal I make is from a cookbook, and I'm not ashamed of that. I will steal from anyone. Here are my favorite places to thieve (yes it is a word) Click the picture to find out more:

 Now I have to stop here and make this next one stand out. It is above and beyond the greatest cookbook of my life! 75% of our go-to recipes come from this book. We adore it unconditionally. It is the mother of all good cookbooks. I have given it to several people as gifts and I will continue to until everyone I know has one. I L-O-V-E this cookbook:

I also use two blogs that have recipes:

http://www.flythroughourwindow.com/  and  http://thepioneerwoman.com/

What I really wanted to write about was my adventures in making baby food. This post is too long as it is. Next up: my adventures in making baby food.

He's Got the Whole World in His Hands

Before Sophia goes down for a nap we read a book and sing songs. (And by "we" I really mean "me") It is one of the sweetest parts of my day, which is great because it happens 2 - 3 times a day! Near the end of the book, Sophia will start to get restless. She'll start grunting in protest and kicking her feet. But as soon as the story is over, I spin her around and hold her close to me and start singing. Immediately she relaxes and lays her head on my shoulder. I could sit with her like this forever....

We sing a variety of songs, but the very first one I ever sang to her and my favorite still today is "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands." We have a flexible routine with the words. We always start with a round of

He's got the mamas and the daddies in His hands

followed by:

He's got the babies and the doggies in His hands

and then each day is different. We sing about whatever is going on that day. So if it's raining out, we might sing "He's got the wind and the rain in His hands" or if we're feeling particularly rushed that day we may sing "He's got the hours and the minutes in His hands."

This has become a ministry to my own heart over the course of the past few months. I insert whatever is troubling me, whatever I feel helpless about. It can lead to some interesting combinations, like the day Andy was driving home from work and Sophia's teacher was just diagnosed with breast cancer: "He's got the cars and the cancer in His hands." It can also lead to some gross descriptions: "He's got the snot and the sneezes in His hands." Or some that just don't work but you do them anyway: "He's got the power and the outages in His hands."

We always end with a round of:

He's got you and me in His hands

before I lay her down in her crib. It's beautiful. However I walked into her room, I float out with the peace of knowing that everything is in the Lord's hands. Nothing is out of control. Nothing should I feel helpless over. This simple song is a reminder that my God created all things and holds all things together according to His perfect will.

Amen!

"You're So Advanced"

This little phrase is a joke in our family. Andy and I are constantly telling Sophia how advanced she is when she does something she usually doesn't mean to before the official "milestone deadline." But this week, the phrase came back to bite me. Yes, three months early, Sophia threw her first tantrum. As I was reflecting on the tantrum later that day, I remembered a blog post I had written a few months ago about how Sophia would soon begin to actively defy me in stubborn independence.

There have been signs this was coming. The back arch has become one of Sophia's favorite things to do no matter where she is or what she's doing. She certainly did it while learning to spoon feed, but I also saw her arching in the Bumbo seat and even laying on the floor, all the while seeming happy as could be. So I chalked it up to her discovering that she could do it, and thus, would do it as often as possible.

So I found myself thoroughly unprepared for a tantrum in Target. Andy and I knew the time for discipline was coming, but we hadn't quite talked through how we would do it, what we would do it for, and honestly, didn't really know what "bad behavior" from Sophia would look like. We figured we still had a few months to figure it out, but then again, Sophia's very advanced.

When we shop at Central Market each week, Sophia likes to take hold of my grocery list and play with it in her hands. So while we were at Target, she wrestled it from me as I shopped the clearance rack in the baby department. When I looked up, I found the now soggy grocery list minus a small chunk and took it away from her so she wouldn't eat any more paper. As soon as I take it from her hands, an earsplitting cry issues from her wide open mouth. She begins a colossal meltdown. I probably was wearing a face of utter confusion. At first I wondered if it was just a coincidence that she began screaming when I took the paper away. I look her over for a pinched toe or jammed finger. Nothing. By now, maybe 30 seconds have gone by and I'm thinking Listen babe, you don't have object permanence yet. What are you still crying about? When the crying didn't stop, I decided to respond, to the appreciation of the entire crowd.

But wait...what do I do? We didn't have a discipline plan yet. Besides, she's six months old. She doesn't understand anything I would say anyway. Then I remember...it doesn't matter.

Let me clarify: what I do next matters greatly. It matters greatly that I discipline her and it matters greatly how I discipline her. What doesn't matter is whether she can understand it yet or not. As much as discipline will train her later on, doing it now is training for us. It matters that I set up the habit of disciplining her now, from the very beginning, for my own sake. If I neglect it now because she doesn't get it, I form for myself a habit of ignoring problem behavior. It will take an active change later down the road to begin doing what I could have been doing all along. And as we all know, change is difficult.

It's the same reason we read the Bible to her every night before bed. She can't understand the stories. She won't hear us read the crucifixion to her tonight and ask Jesus to save her from her sin. We do it now because we want to do it later. And if we don't set up the habit now, we may never do what we intend to.

Intentions are tricky things. Andy and I can have intentions to be good parents to Sophia, but having those intentions don't make us good parents. We will never drift into good parenthood. What will make us good parents is what we do when it comes to Sophia.

So what did I do? First, I stayed calm. Then I said, "Oh Sophia, no ma'am" in a low voice. "We do not react like this when we don't get what we want. Mommy has a good reason for taking the grocery list away. It's not healthy to eat paper. Tell you what, as soon as we get an appropriate sucking object from our list here, you may have it to chew on." Did it work? Of course not...but that's not really the point, is it?

Father, we continue to plead with you on behalf of Sophia. Her name means "wisdom," and this is what we seek from you now. Our wisdom is like foolishness compared to you. Your ways are high, your understanding infinite! Your word says that you discipline those you love. Teach us how we may discipline Sophia in love, so that she would reap the benefits of being loved to the extent that her parents did not do what was easy, but what was best for her! Let us learn from your example, for you have painstakingly made us your children by sending Jesus to the Cross. We love you! Amen.

For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Hebrews 12:11

"Mrs. Kate"

My journey into the world of teaching was a long windy path. I never intended to do it. I loved my major and minor in college (Religion/Philosophy). Studying was a pleasure most of the time- I loved the material. This was my justification for spending four years and a hundred thousand dollars getting a degree that would never eventually get me a job. But what's past is past, right?

So when I got out of college, fully equipped for...law school? No thanks. Ministry? Nothing seemed to fit. Hmmm....you mean I have to start paying my student loans back now? Crap.

This was how I entered the world of teaching. Literally, everywhere else was a dead end. I needed a real job. I needed to make a decent amount of money. The quickest way to do that was to start becoming certified to teach. Begrudgingly, I did.

That's when things started to change. As I studied the art of educating kids, passion took its place in my heart. I couldn't wait to have my own classroom, my own students, my own curriculum, etc. A year later, I was ready for the world of teaching!

The first year was tough. I tried biting off more than I could chew curriculum wise. I did that every year. Always reviewing and changing the way I did things, trying to find that perfect approach. But every year was different, every class different, every kid...different. After four years, I was burned. And I was burned out.

I felt like I was constantly trying to climb uphill. Yeah, I could look back down and see the progress I'd made. But I could look up and see a never ending mountain peaking up through clouds. Where was the end? The system was broken. It seemed to work against me. It seemed to work against the kids too. I didn't like the way things were. I didn't like making decisions trying to figure out which was the lesser evil. I didn't like never being able to leave it at work. I didn't like dreaming about lessons. And more than anything, I didn't like who I was becoming in the process.

Happy, determined, hopeful, consistent Mrs. Friederichs slowly warped into tired, stressed, impatient Mrs. Friederichs who slowly warped into grouchy, snappy, crazy Mrs. Friederichs. The cycle happened every year. I started hating the way my name sounded, because every time a student used it, they said it with the ring of unease, not knowing how I would respond to whatever it was they had to say or ask.

On the home front, things weren't much better. Overzealous at the start of the year, things went lacking at home, all of my energies going toward making this the year I do things differently. By the middle, I was treading water trying to keep the remnant of what began going. Still, dinner was an afterthought, creativity and patience memories long gone. Come March, I began sinking into the "let this year just end already" defeat that seemed inevitable. By now, I'm just trying to escape at home by watching TV. Andy got sloppy seconds. Overall, I felt like I wasn't doing anything in my life well, just juggling and dropping.

So when we found out I was pregnant, the fear that gripped me was How am I going to be a good wife, a good mother, and a good teacher when I can't even handle the two I do now? So Andy and I began praying through resigning from my job. The budget never added up. There was no way we could make it work on just one income. But we believed this was what God wanted for us to do. So I quit my job not knowing how it would all work out. And as He always provides what is necessary to do what is His will, many things aligned so that we could make it work.

A lot of people ask me if I miss teaching. I miss some things about it. I mostly miss some of the students I had the privilege of teaching. I don't miss it as a whole. I love my new jobs too much. I love being a good wife, which I finally feel like I'm doing well. I love being a good mommy, which I also rest easy knowing I'm doing my best at. And I love being Mrs. Kate to my three year old class at the ELC. Every Monday and Wednesday I go to work  smiling, determined, hopeful, consistent. When my kids say my name, I light up, because they say it with joy.

These things have brought me such relief. But with it has also come a lot of regret. I regret letting myself succumb to bitterness each year. It's not the school's fault I became mean Mrs. Friederichs. It's not even the system's fault. That was my fault. My sin. Because through all of it, God had me there for a purpose. There were things to be done for the Kingdom. 100 kids I had the opportunity to love like Christ. And through every parent conference, lesson plan, grading rubric, every sweet or naughty kid, every broken system, there was grace each day for me. But I didn't seek the resources of God's grace. I sought to do it all myself. And when that happens, failure is close at hand.

So wherever God has you, whatever God has you doing, remember that the tiny voice in your head that says I can't do this...is right. You can't do it. Seek God's grace so that you can do with God what you can't do on your own. You won't want to look back on the years you wasted wondering what all could have been accomplished if only you had trusted and obeyed.

Happy 6 months Sophia!

Sophia turned six months old today. Half a year. Have we been together that long? Sometimes it seems like we've always been together. Life before her seems a bit fuzzy. Other times it seems like I was just having her yesterday. The anticipation, the memories, the joy of that day are burned into my brain. She has brought abundant joy and gratefulness to our home. Parenting her has been the greatest thing we've ever done and has made us happier than we imagined it could.

I have been thinking all day today about the day we had her. The 3 am drive to the hospital, with "Come Thou Long Expected Jesus" playing on repeat while Andy and I debated whether it was a false alarm or not. The quiet, still streets, with bright red and green stoplights. No one was on the road but us. And we were headed to a greatly anticipated and unknown experience. It was surreal...dreamlike. Twelve hours later I saw waving purple hands and this sweet face looking up at me, quiet, mouth in an o, both of us staring into each other's eyes, taking each other in. I remember looking at Andy, exhausted physically and emotionally, relief and triumph covering everything and seeing tears in his eyes. How could we have known it would be this good? We weren't prepared for the violent and immediate love we would have for her. We didn't know our hearts could love anything besides ourselves this fiercely. Some days I think about this love I feel for Sophia and am amazed- God loves me like this? Can it be true? No. He loves me even better. Because God isn't struggling with sinful ambition or idolizing me. It's a pure love. It's a love I will never be able to give Sophia.

So today, we pray the same thing we've prayed for the last six months. God, love her like you love us! Seek her heart and win it over by the Spirit of Truth! Save her from herself! You are good, you are true, you are faithful! Be her only God!

Come, thou long expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us,
let us find our rest in thee.

Israel's strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.

Born thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever,
now thy gracious kingdom bring.

By thine own eternal spirit
rule in all our hearts alone;
by thine all sufficient merit,
raise us to thy glorious throne.
 
-Charles Wesley (1707 - 1788)