June 24, 2010

Everything's coming up roses...

Can I tell you how much I heart being a mom? I LOVE it. Truly. Even the stinky parts of it. Isla is my buddy, we are attached at the hip. I love watching her eyes get bright when there is a sudden shift in light or a change in atmosphere, everything a new experience. I love comforting her when she's unsure or scared, or even just hungry and tired. I love cooing with her in the mornings when she's bright eyed and well rested. Her personality is emerging everyday and we are sure there are implications that we may have a confident and strong little girl on our hands, traits we couldn't be fonder of. I also love who she is helping me to become. The constant care and attention she needs has been a humbling way for me to learn how to serve more selflessly. I find myself suddenly more sympathetic and patient of others, now that I would give everything I am for the well being of this tiny human. I consider being child-like a humble and perfect trait to nurture within, how strange and wonderful that we should be stewards over our mentors in this matter. God is a master play-write and irony makes for an intriguing plot I suppose. Everything looks rosy these days now that we have her in our lives. I am so grateful. And Happy.





P.S. It is irritating enough just hearing your recorded voice, let alone when you are doing baby-talk. What can we say, we love our kid. Feel free to turn down the volume to avoid the super annoying but completly enamored parents in the background!

June 10, 2010

How Provençal


Ben picked the first of our summer spoils a few days ago and I was delighted at the prospects. We had all the ingredients fresh from the garden for one of my FAVORITE mid afternoon snacks. On a side note, don't you love the word snack? It's so unassuming and insinuates a small amount, a bite if you will. I nearly ate an entire baguette slathered in cold butter, but if I call it a "snack" then I don't feel guilty about having dinner an hour later. "What, me? Full? Oh, no I only had a snack." I can rationalize eating most anything under the guise of "snack", I know I can't be the only one doing this...right? Anyone? Moving on, I found the simple recipe for this charming appetizer in Ina Garten's cook book entitled 'Barefoot in Paris' and it's quickly become one of our favorites that we quite literally eat as a light meal for dinner now. Keep it rustic and you will feel like you'd fit right in at a French villa in the countryside, even if your current location happens to be Ogden, UT or some other equally as charming town. Bon Apetit!

Fresh Radishes
Fresh Arugula
European Style Creamery Butter, cold and unsalted (good butter is a must for this)
Good, crusty French baguette
Sea salt

Slice the baguette cross-wise, spread butter on each slice, layer sliced radishes on top and sprinkle with sea salt, top with a couple leaves of arugula. Try not to eat entire baguette alone.

Also, fresh picked strawberries are as sweet as they come.

June 4, 2010

Heavy lifting


Is it me or is this the most amazing feat for a 2 week old? Yeah, we think she's pretty awesome.

Little Darling




June 2, 2010

And one more thing...


Sometimes it's rough being a baby.

Adoption Story Part 2

I realize that it's been some time since my last post. I have hesitated to write the second part of the story as it is so dear to my heart and hard to share such tender feelings. When people describe placement day in the adoption world more often than not you hear the word bittersweet. Such a fitting word to describe the heartbreak and overwhelming joy you experience simultaneously. No one prepares you for the emotion you will face when you sign those papers and walk into that room.

Ben and I sat in an empty conference room with our caseworker anxiously and nervously signing placement documents and trying not to cry, even though our eyes were already puffy and red from the drive. Luckily, a random woman in a hospital gown wandered into the room and sat down at the table with us and began listening intently. Our caseworker awkwardly slowed her speech as the three of us turned to inquire of the intrusion by another patient in the labor and delivery ward. She said, "Oh, keep going, I just have a question when your through..." To which we replied, "Um, about...adoption?" She turned all red and left in a hurry when it was finally established that the breastfeeding class slated for that room had indeed been cancelled. Comedic relief to lighten the anxiety of the moment. Our papers were signed so quickly it seemed odd that such a simple act could alter our course so profoundly. We left the room and walked down the hall to where Cassie stood, rocking little Isla back and forth with her family there for support. The spirit was so strong in that room, and I felt instantly that the hundreds of prayers from those we love were being fulfilled. It was peaceful, and emotional, and love filled the room up. I knew angels were there sustaining us all. We hugged and cried and made future plans with our new extended family. It felt like a little piece of heaven on earth had been restored in that room. Heaven as it should be, no pride or harshness, just unconditional love and mercy. I cannot tell you how it felt to leave that room where we all shared so much. My heart was bleeding for Cassie and her selfless act for us and this tiny baby we carried away. If it wasn't for the residing peace and comfort we all felt, I don't think it could be possible to have performed such an act, a testiment of Cassie's true character. We made it down the elevator and out to our waiting car with a nurse in tow to check out our carseat, a new mandate. We had planned to leave quickly so Cassie didn't have to see us drive away, but her Dad happened to be going out to get his car as well. He leaned in as we awkwardly strapped in the carseat for the first time and said,"So, how bout a BBQ in few weeks?" And it felt as natural as ever. Relief and assurance that indeed this was not a final goodbye, but a new start for a beautiful baby girl who has all the love in the world.