Amy Gaskin news feed

Love Tuesday

Tue, 21 Feb 2012 16:25:00 EST

Growing up, I experienced very little liturgical culture. I heard people talk about this thing called "Lent," but just assumed it was some heathen practice, and didn't care to learn anything about it. During college some friends of mine headed to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, and came back with all sorts of hedonic stories that further settled my assumptions of Lent.

Then I moved to Central Pennsylvania and was inundated with the Scotch-Irish influence over Cumberland Valley, as well as the Pennsylvania Dutch's German traditions. Turns out, Shrove Tuesday or Pancake Tuesday or Fastnacht Day or Marti Gras or whatever you call it, and the 40 days that follow, are a big deal to a lot of people. So I found out about its origins, what was being celebrated, and why. And I discovered that I wasn't into the ashes on my head bit, since Jesus specifically said NOT to do stuff like that.

However, I also discoverd that I was in awe of the concept of seemingly rote sacrifice training me to allow the Fruit of the Spirit to lead my heart and actions. But I never took this discovery any further.

Until my kids learned how to read. And they started noticing all the signs around town, and asked what "marty grass" and "fast nached" meant and what exactly was so great about February 21st this year?

So I gave them a little history lesson, explained that the tradition was made by people, and that the 40 days of Lent aren't inherently any holier than the rest of the days of the year. And then while I was talking about Lent's concept of giving up something you love and giving that love back to others, it dawned on me that this was a fantastic opportunity to teach a really great lesson on patience, kindness, self-control, and sacrificial love. I surprised myself by asking the girls if they wanted to participate in our own Lent-ish tradition this year.

They did! We talked about how making sacrifices teaches us self-control. And about the importance of keeping our commitment to be unselfish and serve others. And about how a true sacrifice means giving up something important, and giving it cheerfully. And we talked a long time about how God's Love fills the void of sacrifice. And most importantly, how all this echoes Jesus' sacrifice for our Salvation. Wow.

Then it came time to decide what we could give.

In Gaskinland, we have what we call "Junk Food/Screen Time Saturdays." That means, the whole week you don't eat any junk, and you don't watch TV or play video games. But on Saturday, you're allowed three hours of "screen time" and $6 worth of any junk food you like. We all plan for and anticipate the treats that await us at the end of every week. It's a big deal around here. And amazingly, this is what the girls chose to cheerfully give.

Giving up six weeks worth of junk food and screen time will give each person $36 and 18 hours to give to others. Ronnie wants to use her three hours a week to make cards and presents for residents of nursing homes and to visit them. And she's decided to spend her $36 on bus tickets to keep in her wallet, so the next time we run across someone at the bus station who asks for change for bus fare, she'll be ready to help. Alexa wants to use her junk food money to still buy junk food, but to give it to other people, and plans to spend her extra time help bring joy to sick and sad people. Penny is only three, and doesn't entirely get why we're doing what we're doing, but she's along for the ride, and I am honored to be the mother of her big sisters who are being such a good example to her.

You're my Nutritional Destiny...I mean Density

Mon, 13 Feb 2012 12:54:00 EST

Grazing works great for us: my daily priorities are allowed outside the kitchen, the kids become adept at food prep and cleanup, and everyone has enough energy to get through the day. However, it only works if we have a variety of everyone's favorites on hand. When there aren't healthy favorites around, even if there's a ton of food in the house, the default favorite becomes SUGAR.

I want to remedy this, but I don't want to be in the habit of calling all the nutritional shots. So, it's important for me to train my family to make healthy choices as they graze of their own accord. I need to do the legwork of coming up with a base inventory that is specific to my family's needs.

To get an idea of what a well-maintained Gaskin pantry should look like, I asked them, "It would make you sad if you opened the cabinets/refrigerator and WHAT things weren't there?"

Andy's list looked like this:

Coffee
Half and Half
Sugar

So I realized I needed to rephrase the question and restate my purpose. While I'm all for keeping coffee in the house, this isn't a "nice to have" list. This is a "what healthy foods do you like so much, and would keep you so satisfied, that they would keep you from reaching for the sugar?" kind of list.

I had each of them imagine we had absolutely NO food in the house, and had to restock the shelves with up to twelve things, under the condition that those items had to be something they really, really, REALLY liked, AND would sustain and optimitze their health if they had to eat it every day.

Oooooooh.

So here are the Gaskin Family's Favorite Nutritionally Dense Foods for Happy and Healthy Grazing:

Andy:
baby spinach
cheese
peanut butter
fruit spread
bananas
cashews
rice
eggs
bread
cereal
milk

Amy:
any in-season fruits and veggies
shallots
guacamole
fresh salsa
lentils/beans
greek yogurt
hummus
oatmeal
dried cranberries
sharp cheeses
nuts/seeds
olives

Ronnie:
fruit (especially blueberries, mangoes, pears)
vegetables to dip: bell peppers, cucumbers, baby carrots, broccoli, etc.
hummus
nuts
yogurt
bread
cheese
Cheerios
milk

Alexa:
refried beans
flatbread
hummus
peanut butter
milk
baby carrots
black olives
fruit (apples, bananas, strawberries)
rice
eggs
pickles

Penny:
cake
cranberries
fruit loops
soda
pink milk
yogurt
peanut butter
jelly
ice cream
star wars gummies
and no smoking

Hey, remind me to teach Penny about nutrition.

State of the Mommy Address

Wed, 08 Feb 2012 10:22:00 EST

Veronica (age 7): What kind of birthday cake do you want, Mommy?

Penelope (age 3): Do you want a PBSkids.org cake?

Me (age almost 32): What I'd really like is for you guys to design a cake for me. I'd love to see what you come up with on your own just for me. That would be really special!

V: Okay, so we need to think of not like a theme or anything, but something original...something that really describes Mommy.

Alexandra (age 5): I know! How about we make a cake that looks like Mommy working at the computer?

Me: Woah woah woah. I know I've had a lot of paperwork to do lately, with taxes and adoption. But that's not what DESCRIBES me.

V: Well...of course I really, really, REALLY want you to get the adoption paperwork done...

A: Yay! I can't wait for more kids!

P: Yay! Kids!

V: ...but...you are spending A LOT of time working...I think....maybe... too much?

Me: You think so? Do you wish I spent less time on the computer?

V,A,P: YES!!!

V: And...I think you spend too much time working on the house, too. I mean, the housework that we don't help with that you do when we're outside playing. I like the housework we do TOGETHER. You're still a good mommy, though!

Me: But you wish I would be a better one - what do you wish I would do instead?

V: Just BE with us! I mean, we get to do lots of fun things with you, but...I would like to do MORE of that. Like, I wish you would be outside WITH us. You don't have to PLAY with us, but it would be nice for you to BE there, outside, too.

Me: Okay, wow. That would be so sad if you grow up and look back on your childhood and think "my mom did not make just BEING with me a priority."

V: (laughing) Well, I'm not sad or anything. But it would be really NICE if you, you know... tried a little harder?

Me: How about if I try to get all my work done AFTER you guys go to bed? Then I can put the computer and extra housework away ALL DAY.

V, A, P: YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Uniform

Wed, 14 Dec 2011 10:20:00 EST

I recently had a job from a friend to sew name tags on her kids' school uniforms. As each item ran through our sewing machine, my kids became more and more enthralled. They loved the matching pants, skirts, sweaters, polos, and "daddy shirts" (what they call button-up woven shirts). They asked why WE don't have uniforms. I pointed out that they kind of do - they all have the same basic kinds of clothes in their drawers and even have a set of matching dresses. But they replied with no no no no...why don't we have EVERYDAY clothes that match!?!?

Well, not that I cater to my kids' every whim, but they were needing some new clothes anyway and I found some official "school uniform" skorts on crazy clearance, so I grabbed them for the older girls. Now the students of Gaskin Academy have a uniform when they feel like wearing one. It's nothing exciting or fancy to outsiders - but Ronnie and Alexa are thrilled.

How to Make Coffee in a French Press

Mon, 07 Nov 2011 11:36:00 EST

You'll need something to boil water in, coffee, a coffee grinder if you're using whole beans, a tablespoon, a chopstick (or a thin, long-handled something) and a coffee cup. And a press pot.

Decide how much coffee you want to make, and put at least that much water on to boil.

As the water begins to boil, grind your coffee (obviously, you can skip this step if you're using pre-ground). Coffee retains more flavor if you can minimize the time between grinding and steeping, so it's a good idea to have your water boiled and ready to go as soon as your coffee is ground.

Don't over-grind. Try to keep the chunks on the bigger side or later you'll end up with concentrated coffee sludge on the bottom of your cup. Which I don't really mind - but some people do.

For every 6 oz. of water you'll be using, add one heaping tablespoon to the bottom of your pot. Adjust the heap according to your strength preference. I like mine heap big strong.
Add your boiling water to the pot. Pour it evenly to cover all the grounds.

You'll notice a bunch of bubbles on top. This is called "bloom." It's caused by the release of carbon dioxide when the hot water hits the grounds. The fresher the coffee beans, the bigger the bloom.

Stir gently with a chopstick to create a frothy bloom and extract more flavor. Stirring also breaks the surface of the water to allow the carbon dioxide to escape prior to steeping and pressing. Fewer upward-moving gas bubbles means fewer coffee grounds escape around the filter as you press.

Gently lay your lid/filter/plunger piece on the pot. DO NOT plunge the filter down yet; the coffee needs to steep. Your steep time depends on how much coffee you're making, and how strong you want it. Timing is something you can experiment with later, so 3-4 minutes is a good place to start:

After your steep time's up, it's time to S-L-O-W-L-Y press the plunger all the way down (On LOST, Ben pressed it way too fast, by the way). Press straight down, keeping the filter level to minimize escaping grounds.

Use one hand to secure the lid as you pour to avoid scalding yourself, making a big mess, and ruining your coffee.

VOILA! You did it. A French-pressed cup of coffee!

Sermon Notes

Sat, 05 Nov 2011 21:24:00 EDT

I remember being an 8 year old trying to sit still during a seemingly long sermon (that often went over my head). It was so hard! To help train my 2nd/3rd Bible Class to make sermon time relevant for them, I encourage them to take notes. They listen for points they might understand, and practice looking up verses in the Bible. If they bring me their sermon notes after church, they get a point (there are other ways they can earn points, too). 15 points = a prize from the prize box!

Every week, I have several kids running up to me after church to show me their work. It's great to see them so excited! However, all those papers are hard to keep up with. To keep them motivated, and a little more organized, I created sermon notes journals, sewing together heavy cardstock, a ribbon bookmark, and 28 weeks worth of notes. And yes, I'm working on making a few less girly-looking journals for the boys. ;)

(I love the look of handwriting and try to get by with a pen and photocopier as much as possible)

Gaskinmobile

Fri, 04 Nov 2011 10:36:00 EDT

After 6 months of being unable to [legally] ride together in the same vehicle as a family, we are excited to announce: we bought a van!

Meet our burgundy 1997 Chevy Astro with 146K miles. We bought it for $2400 from friends who took fantastic care of it; it looks and runs great. And it seats 8!

It's such a joy to have the privilege of traveling together as a family again.

Make it Do: Costumes

Mon, 31 Oct 2011 22:40:00 EDT

WANT? Last year when Ronnie discovered there would be a fourth Gaskin Girl, she asked if she and her sisters could dress up as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles the next Halloween. Well, it's "the next Halloween"! We want four cute turtle costumes.

COST? An average-looking ready-made costume runs around $20. Multiplied by 4, that's $80.

IS IT A PRIORITY? In the grand scheme of things, of course not. However, dressing up and trick-or-treating in the neighborhood is a yearly tradition we all look forward to. But I really don't want to buy ready-made costumes. Not just to save money, but because designing my own stuff can lend itself to more personality, ingenuity, and imagination - and for me, a major point of dress-up is the opportunity to extol these virtues in a very fun way.

DO I HAVE ANYTHING LAYING AROUND THAT CAN BE USED? Yes! I have a bag of clothes ready to donate, but I bet I can dig out a few things to cut up and repupose for Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo. Also, Ronnie has a whole yard of black felt that would work great for turtle shells...I'll ask her if I can use it.

CAN I MAKE IT DO? Yes! Ronnie had no problem with me using the felt (part of it is for HER costume, after all!), and I reclaimed green, blue, purple, red, and orange t-shirts to use for the project. I supplemented the rest with cheap finds from the thrift store and fabric store.

For Leonardo's top, I resized an old green T-shirt of Andy's to fit Alexa, using the same technique I used to make the T-shirt dresses from the last "Make It Do" article (minus the ruffled skirt). For the turtle belly, I sewed on gold-colored fleece I found in the clearance bin at the fabric store. The turtleshell on the back is an oval of black felt stuffed with the innards of an old pillow. The green pants are Alexa's own. The belt is from a bag of 6 brown cloth belts I found at the thrift store. Her hat is from the bottom of the green t-shirt I used to create her turtletop, and the attached mask is from a blue maternity shirt I wore so often I was completely sick of it, so I was happy to cut it up. I cut the same shirt into strips and tied on the fabric to create her wrist, elbow, and knee bands.

I was having a hard time finding something for Donatello that would be both functional and warm...until, out of curiosity, I perused the ready-made costumes at the thrift store and found a whole-body baby dragon costume that was exactly Evie's size and could easily be reworked into a turtle. I cut off the dragon's tail and sewed a black felt turtleshell over the back and, again, stuffed it with old pillow fluff. The front had a zipper, so I had to cut the turtle belly fleece in half before I sewed it on the front. Her belt is the smallest of the aforementioned six. The top of her hat is made from the bottom of an old lime-green t-shirt of Ronnie's, and the attached "mask" (I didn't think Evie would tolerate eye holes!), wrist, elbow, and knee bands are from a purple shirt I dug out of the giveaway bag.

Raphael's outfit is similar to Leonardo's except I bought green sweatpants and a green sweatshirt from the thrift store. The sweatshirt was way too big, so I took in the sides to fit Penny's tiny frame, but left it long. The green hat and red trim was made from more t-shirts from our giveaway bag.

The construction of Michelangelo's outfit was nearly identical to Raphael's except there's old orange t-shirt instead of red, and I didn't have to resize Ronnie's sweatshirt.

CONCLUSION: Leaving most of the edges raw, these costumes were super easy to piece together. The hardest part was hunting down the green sweatpants and sweatshirts! Over all, I spent $12 on extras (for the sweats, dragon costume, fleece & matching thread, and belts), but $3 per costume is fine with me, especially when the girls stayed warm while traipsing through the neighborhood in nearly freezing weather. The girls loved them and we had THE best time designing and making them together. Cowabunga!

Snowtober

Sun, 30 Oct 2011 17:11:00 EDT

The Hobbit (Guest Writer: Veronica Gaskin)

Sat, 22 Oct 2011 14:22:00 EDT

I chose to read The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien because I thought it would be fun and I liked the green binding and the gold picture and the gold elf writing.

The Hobbit was an adventure story where the characters make friends. The protagonist is Bilbo Baggins (the Hobbit) and the other characters were the dwarfs and Gandalf the wizard. Gandalf and the dwarfs helped Bilbo when they were going on the adventure together. It took place days and nights in the woods and the mountains. First they went on an adventure and there, Bilbo Baggins found the ring that made him Invisible. Then there was a camp of people that slayed a dragon named Smaug. Then there was a battle between the goblins and the dwarfs and Bilbo and the same camp. Of course the dwarfs won. Then Bilbo and the dwarfs went home.

I learned how to read the map that was in the book. Sometimes I looked at the map to see where the characters were in the story. The best part of the book was when the dwarfs fought the Goblins because it was exciting to use my imagination while reading that part. I felt hopeful in some parts and happy in some other parts.

I liked The Hobbit because it was fun, just like I thought it would be. It was easy to keep track of what was going on in the story. I would like to recommend the book to friends because I think they would like to read it. I've already started reading The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien that is the second book in the collection because I want to go into the whole story of the hobbits and their adventures.

A Very Gaskin Wedding

Sun, 16 Oct 2011 14:27:00 EDT

as dictated by Ronnie:

"I have no idea who I will marry. I don't even know IF I will get married. Maybe I won't, and that's okay. But if I do, I think I would like to get married married in Willow Park, and we can eat outside and little kids can dance to music and play in the creek. And adults can go in the creek too so the kids don't drown or anything.

I will wear a veil and a little white dress with light pink flowers around my waist. I will hold black-eyed susans. I'm going to let my sisters pick out whatever they want to wear and what flowers they want to hold, but the flower girls will wear purple dresses with lavender bows and princess crowns.

I would like a purple, red, and pink cake with little blue flowers around the layers, and it will be three round cakes stacked on top of each other. And there will be a little buffet with food and cake. And I can have banners that say "Happy Marriage, Veronica and..." you know, whoever I marry. I'll give my husband a silver ring, and I think he would like a ruby on it. He can pick out whatever ring he wants to give me.

When we leave for our honeymoon, people can throw pink and white flower petals at us. And we will go to Yukon for our honeymoon and we will go to a restaurant and go ice fishing and do sled-dog riding (I'll be a grown-up then and won't be afraid of dogs anymore). And when we come back we will buy a little house in West Virginia and we're going to adopt LOTS of kids. It will have 4 bedrooms with 2 bunk beds in each room and baby toys for the babies and a playground. And it will have a big garden."

as dictated by Alexa:

"My wedding will be outside because that is much funner than inside. I will wear a white dress and I don't know which way to go to the dress store, so you're going to have to buy it for me. I asked Parker when I was a kid if he would marry me, and he said, 'yeah' and he won't forget that he said that.

The person who stands up front and will ask me 'Do you love Parker? Do you PROMISE?" will be Mr. Dave. I will buy Parker a gold ring and I will make it say "This is Parker's Ring.' And he will buy me one with a jewel on it.

All my sisters will wear red dresses and Penny gets pink daisies and Ronnie gets bluebells and Evie gets three red roses but you have to cut the prickly part off first. And I will carry white daisies, a big sunflower, and pink poppies. And then we get married and then...KISS. I don't even like kissing, so we will just kiss on the cheek.

Then the song Singing in the Rain will play and then we will have a big cake that is white like my wedding dress, with a little toy of me and Parker on top. I will share 10 pieces with Parker; I get 5 and he gets 5. But we will take the Parker and Alexa toys off the top before we eat it. We will save the toys for my kids to play with. We will grow some in my tummy and we will adopt some.

And then we will go to this place called Honeymoon where you can go on any trip you want to go on. We will go camping and sleep in the woods in a tent and no bears will attack me. And then we will go home to Dave & Tracy's [Parker's parents] house and that's where we will live. And then I will be a grown up and everyone will call me my woman name, Alexandra."

Music and Dancing and Babywearing Sisters

Fri, 14 Oct 2011 14:05:00 EDT

Today Show Takes a Look at Unschooling

Fri, 14 Oct 2011 11:49:00 EDT

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26184891/vp/44902003#44902003

Is There a Doctor in the House?

Tue, 11 Oct 2011 23:22:00 EDT

Ronnie fell off her bike and scraped her knee pretty badly. Alexa and Penny watched with fascination as I cleaned Ronnie up and applied bandages.

When it was time to change the dressing, Alexa asked if she could do it. After the girls looked at the section in our first aid book on how to care for wounds, and after we practiced on a baby doll, I supervised Alexa in helping Ronnie change her bandages.

Penny loved the First Aid book, or as she called it, The Blood Book, and kept asking questions about all the pictures. I taught her what different wounds are called and how they might happen. Ronnie and Alexa started listening too, so we had a nice little story time about abrasions, lacerations, stabs, contusions, punctures, and gunshot wounds.

To take the impromptu lesson further, I had an idea to three-dimensionally represent the creation of a wound. I left a nice imprint of my skin behind as I flattened some clay and used different tools to create "wounds" on the clay. Aftwerward, I gave Ronnie and Alexa a fun little quiz.

Penny opted out of quiz time and just spent the rest of the afternoon wounding clay.

Alexa's First Few Weeks not in Kindergarten

Tue, 11 Oct 2011 20:01:00 EDT

Child Development

Fashion Design

Medical Arts

Storytelling

Housekeeping

Culinary Arts

Japanese

Consumer Math

Vulcanology

Make it Do: T-Shirt Dresses

Sat, 03 Sep 2011 13:48:00 EDT

WANT? Cute, simple, Penny-sized shirts. Somehow, Penny has maybe one nice shirt that actually fits her. Everything else is either too big, too small, or stained. I guess that happens when you're third in a line of hand-me-downs.

COST? I can get a nice, girly jersey-knit shirt from a clearance rack or thrift store for less than $2.

IS IT A PRIORITY? Not really, since she'll survive just fine if she's dressed like a ragamuffin. But it would be nice if I could provide her with something a little more pretty.

DO I HAVE ANYTHING LAYING AROUND THAT CAN BE USED? YES! I found a really easy tutorial on how to make a kids dress/long shirt from a bigger t-shirt. Andy has several old t-shirts, saved from his childhood, that have just been sitting in a bin in the basement. And Ronnie has some t-shirts she's willing to donate to the cause.

CAN I MAKE IT DO? Yes! I gathered up old t-shirts family members were willing to share and gave them a brand new look. One didn't turn out so great (neckline too big and sleeves too small), but here are the rest:

The one I made from Andy's 5th grade baseball shirt was too big for Penny, but fit Alexa perfectly.

The neckline on Andy's old D.A.R.E. shirt was too big to fit Penny OR Alexa, but looked great on Ronnie (and prompted an interesting conversation about drugs):

On my 4th try, Ronnie's too-big field hockey camp t-shirt made a "just right" shirt/dress for Penny. Mission accomplished!

Per a friend's suggestion, I added some trim to make it pop a little more:

And...then I felt bad everyone else got a new shirt/dress except Evie, so I made her one out of one of Penny's stained t-shirts.

CONCLUSION: For the cost of electricity to run the sewing machine and about an hour of my time, I was able to create four cute (and one cute-yet-unusable) dresses/long shirts for my kids by repurposing what I already had. And Andy's childhood togs got a new life! Even though I can buy clothes for pretty cheap on clearance or at thrift stores, it's even better to get them for cheap as free. Now that I know how to do it, (and know how easy it is!) henceforth, my kids will not only have clothes that fit, but clothes that are really cute and unique, too! And you know, I think the next time I see a too-big, yet super cute t-shirt at the thrift store, I might justify picking it up to see what I can come up with for myself.

Skillz

Thu, 18 Aug 2011 14:49:00 EDT

1. What skills do you find yourself wishing you had equipped yourself with before you left home? In an ideal world, how would you have learned them?

2. What skills were you very grateful you already had before you left home? How did you obtain them?

3. What skills do you think are vital to success, but can only be learned through life experience (as opposed to book learning)?

4. Are there any skills you spent a lot of time developing that now seem irrelevant to your life? If so, what and why?

5. Have you ever had the desire to help others, but turned down opportunities to serve because you felt woefully inadequate? If so, tell me about it.

6. What are some skills you don't personally have the capacity to pursue, but really support, admire and encourage others to pursue?

Make it Do: Birthday Party!

Mon, 15 Aug 2011 21:06:00 EDT

WANT?
Alexa wants to host a Babymouse-themed 5th birthday bash with about 25 people in attendance.

COST?
Reading mommyforums and blogs, I discovered that the average parent spends $10 per guest when the costs of all food, decorations, entertainment, and party favors are considered. So that's $250 to throw an average party for Alexa and her 25 guests.

IS IT A PRIORITY?:
YES! Celebrating life is always a priority! So is fellowshipping with our friends in our home. And leaving anyone off the guest list is not an option.

DO I HAVE ANYTHING LAYING AROUND THAT CAN BE USED?
YES! I have plenty of arts and crafts supplies, library resources, pantry items, and old fashioned ingenuity that can be turned into some pretty legit Babymouse birthday fare.

CAN I MAKE IT DO?
Decorations? YES! Using glue, ribbon, colored paper, and paint, I can create a big birthday banner for Alexa based on the Babymouse book covers.

I can also borrow all the Babymouse books (plus the Babymouse spin-off, Squish!) from the library and stand them up around the house for the reading enjoyment of Alexa's guests.

Special Outfit for the Birthday Girl? YES! I can cut mouse ears out of white paperboard and attach them to a headband, tying the top with a black ribbon. I can give Alexa a mousey nose and messy whiskers with a black face-paint crayon, and strategically pin a black ribbon to approximate a tail.

I can cut a heart shape out of an old stained pink T-shirt and sew it onto a white ruffly skirt from Alexa's drawer. Paired with a white tank-style undershirt, it will look just like Babymouse's signature white dress!

Party Favors? YES! I can use my mad facepainting skills to give partygoers the gift of Babymouse whiskers. Also, I have enough safety pins and yards of black ribbon to provide mouse tails for anyone who wants one.

Food? YES!..and No. I have everything I need to make plenty of yummy bright pink cupcakes, but I don't have any maraschino cherries to top them off (which is what MAKES a pink cupcake a Babymouse cupcake!), so I'm going to have to buy a jar of them.

I'm also going to need to purchase some food of the non-cupcake variety since we're wanting to serve lunch to Alexa's 25 guests.

Entertainment? YES! We have four kids. We have a lot of grandparents and friends who have provided those four kids with a plethora of really great books, instruments, toys and games. We have a big backyard, and some cardboard boxes to boot. The partygoers can have free reign of all those resources and can use their imaginations and entertain themselves.

CONCLUSION: We spent $21 providing a buffet of PBJs, carrot sticks, apples, cheese, crackers, and pink lemonade. And oh wait, I forgot: that must-have jar of maraschino cherries was a whole $2 (typical). But everything else was created completely from items we already had at home! So for a grand total of $23 ($227 less than average!), Alexa celebrated the blessing of five years on this earth (and her love for Babymouse!) for three hours with 25 people who love her dearly. And she had a wonderful, wonderful time.

Socially Squirrelly

Tue, 09 Aug 2011 09:26:00 EDT

Something no one ever prepared me for was the fact that once I began reproducing, every stranger on earth would find it socially acceptable to share whatever was on their mind with me. Andy doesn't seem to have any weird stranger stories for me, so maybe my mommyness creates an ambience of kinship around others who are needing to share their humanity. Whatever it is, I've learned to just accept it as a normal part of my day.

For example, as the girls and I were walking home from the library, we saw a man, who I would guess to be in his late fifties, walking up to the library, towards us. As he approached us, he blocked our path on the sidewalk and said, without introduction:

"What do you call a squirrel's nest?"

Maybe it has to do with being the parent of four relatively small and silly kids, but the question didn't seem all that abnormal. I just decided to play along.

"Hmmm. I don't know...what?" I dramatically pondered.

He gave us a grin and replied, "A nutcracker suite!" and chuckled and went on his merry way.

The Blessing of Being Blemished

Mon, 08 Aug 2011 12:28:00 EDT

I stopped reading beauty magazines a long time ago when I realized they essentially insulted what I have come to know as symbols of a blessed life. So much of what the world considers a blemish exists as a direct result of the fruit of God's love. Many of my physical imperfections are such an honor:

My nearsightedness reveals the blessing of being instilled with a voracious love for learning, reading so much that my eyes had trouble keeping up with the demand.

My silver-streaked hair reveals the blessing of endurance to make it through tough, stressful circumstances.

My dry, patchy skin reveals the blessing of time and ability to work and play in the dirt and sunshine.

My crooked overbite reveals the blessing of being raised by parents who thought providing me with a full time mother was much more valuable than a second income that might have provided orthodontia.

My pock-marked face reveals the blessing of growing up with a close-knit, happy neighborhood of kids who shared everything - even their chicken pox.

and I could go on and on...

What about you?

Bubble Burst

Sun, 07 Aug 2011 23:03:00 EDT

I'm pathetic at mercy-giving. For example, I've always struggled when friends respond to my joy with bitterness over their own lack of joy. I inwardly become angry and bitter myself, and outwardly just allow an aura of awkward tension to fester. I let my own desire to have my blessings humanly validated quench a meek and gentle (and very unhuman!) Spirit.

I need an attitude adjustment. I know friends don't intend to make me feel guilty by reacting this way, but I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, either. What form of support can I offer? I desperately want to be sensitive to struggles, needs, and heartbreaks, but I'm clueless when it comes to knowing how to react lovingly when I discover a friend can't share in my joy. Any advice?

Make it Do: Hockey Sticks

Tue, 02 Aug 2011 15:46:00 EDT

I don't like using the phrase "We can't afford it." It sounds a whole lot like whining. And it's not really true, because I CAN reasonably afford almost anything, if I make earning money a priority. I believe I can be a millionare, or a billionare, even, if I want to. But I don't want to.

When my kids ask for something I hadn't planned on buying, I don't tell them I can't afford it. I say, "No. Buying it isn't a priority right now." I'm not choosing not to buy it due to an inherent inability to procure the funds, but because Andy and I have much, much MUCH better ways to spend our precious gift of time than earning money to buy stuff we don't need.

When we do want something that isn't a bona fide necessity, we try to abide by the golden rule of The Great Depression: "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." Sometimes creativity escapes us and we just have to "do without" ... and believe it or not, we're still around. That's not to say we're constantly in survival mode and don't have any fun around here. Quite the contrary, as it's a huge priority in our family to make use of our creative spirit, since we believe human creativity echoes the glory of the Creator himself.

So, armed with a sense of adventure, a mind for creativity, and whatever's laying around, I've discovered so many opportunities to repurpose useless stuff into useful stuff. So, to kick off this series, I give you:

THE CURTAIN ROD & DUCT TAPE FIELD HOCKEY STICK!

WANT? Ronnie got a taste of field hockey at a mini-camp taught by local high-schoolers. Now she wants her own field hockey stick so she can practice at home. Actually, she wants Alexa to have a stick, too, so they can play together.
So, the want is: 2 junior field hockey sticks

COST? A good junior stick costs about $25. So, that's $50 for two.

IS IT A PRIORITY? No, not right now. Ronnie's not even old enough to play on a team yet. Alexa actually doesn't really care about getting a stick. She thinks hockey sticks are golf clubs, anyway. So I'm not really motivated to provide something legit.

IS THERE ANYTHING LAYING AROUND THAT COULD BE USED INSTEAD? Our house's previous owners left behind a new-in-package aluminum curtain rod in the basement. If I pull it apart, I have two long rods with bent ends. They kind of look like hockey sticks. But they're really too long for kids to use safely. And they're a little flimsy.

CAN I MAKE IT DO? Yes. Since it's aluminum, I can bend the rods to customize the length. And I can reinforce them with duct tape. As long as the girls don't use anything heavier than a Wiffle Ball, the rods can approximate field hockey sticks.

CONCLUSION: For a grand total of $0, plus about 10 minutes of time, and perhaps 10 drops of sweat equity, Ronnie and Alexa now own sport equipment that, while not pretty looking (it's admittedly hard to let my aesthetic guard down), IS pretty functional. AND we saved $50 from being spent. The only problem is that Penny's annoyed she doesn't have a stick, too. I'm sure I can find another curtain rod around here somewhere...

Ditch Digging Computer Geeks

Sat, 16 Jul 2011 18:37:00 EDT

Amy-initiated activity:

Andy-initiated activity:

Invisible Man

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 16:44:00 EDT

In high school, during show choir practice, my friend Ann and I would often find ourselves commiserating over the behavior of the average 17 year old male. They were conversations often laced with much frustration. To make ourselves feel better, and give us some hope, we created a nice guy out of Sharpie. And probably based on the fact that we'd seen one too many Fred Astaire movies, he was rather charming, dressed like a gentleman, and could tap dance:

Since we were more concerned with character than looks, he didn't get a body. We named him "The Invisible Man" for two reasons, one being obvious: he was invisible. And two: he filled the invisble space in our hearts waiting for respectable male companionship.

Well, a decade plus a few odd years later, The Invisble Man has returned to send birthday congratulations on Ann's 30th. He also congratulates us both on eventually marrying wonderful men, even though he is somewhat taken aback that neither of them tap dance.

AndyAmy Show - Episode 6

Sun, 19 Jun 2011 21:08:00 EDT

GirlFail

Mon, 06 Jun 2011 22:58:00 EDT

1. I have read the Cliffs Notes for several Jane Austen novels just so I can pretend to know what I'm talking about when discussing literature with friends. You know that scene in You've Got Mail where Tom Hanks is completely exasperated while attempting to read Pride and Prejudice? Yeah, that's me.

2. When I invite people over and my guests ask "Can I bring anything?" I always say, "DESSERT!" because my baking suffers a failure rate of 50% and I want to play it safe.

3. I have a profound inability to apply liquid eyeliner. I have no idea what I'm doing.

AndyAmy Show - Episode 5

Mon, 30 May 2011 11:18:00 EDT

Badge Jeans

Wed, 25 May 2011 15:58:00 EDT

About a year ago, a baggie of vintage 1980s Girl Scout badges caught my eye at the thrift store. Although at the time I had no idea what I could possibly use them for, they looked super cool and the price was 25 cents for all. So of course I bought them. And then today I had an ah-ha moment and went to town on a pair of Ronnie's holey-kneed jeans. Voila!

Confessions

Mon, 23 May 2011 20:20:00 EDT

Yesterday morning after church, I was walking through the crowded foyer and noticed a woman I'd never seen before, standing off by herself. She appeared completely exasperated and frustrated, and suddenly burst into silent tears. I looked around, assuming someone else must have seen her (you know how busy a foyer can be right after services) and would take care of her. Surely this wasn't MY place to help her, right? But no one else seemed to notice.

I thought maybe I'd just imagined it, maybe she wasn't really crying. So I snuck a peek at her: she was clearly wiping tears from her eyes. I just stood there frozen in the crowded room, averting my eyes, pretending to be very occupied with the bulletin I'd just picked up. Until she walked out of my sight, out the door, and wasn't my problem anymore.

Anyone who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins.
James 4:17 NIV

In the course of maybe twenty seconds, I denied Love and sold myself to Fear. I knew I should have offered to help her. I KNEW the right thing to do, and I didn't do it. I allowed the fear of saying the wrong thing to a stranger keep me from doing what I knew in my heart was absolutely right - sharing God's love.

"Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?" He will reply, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me."
Matthew 25:44-45 NIV

I've often read that verse and always assumed I would do the right thing when called to do something "for the least of these." Yesterday I learned how ridiculous it is to trust my own heart when I so easily denied Christ by deeming a clearly distraught woman not worth helping. Jesus sacrificed everything for ME, and I couldn't simply swallow my fear of a potentially awkward social situation and just trust Him enough to serve one of His children. Wow.

Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.
Matthew 6:1 NIV

But the worst of it wasn't the fact that I didn't help her. No, the worst was the realization that I knew I would have jumped to help if this woman and I had been alone in the foyer. No wait - the worst is knowing that I would have helped her under those conditions and I would have actually thought I was a loving person while doing it.

Yes, if she and I had been alone I would have helped her - but not out of love, like I've deceived myself to believe. My actions when no one was watching has revealed the truth of my potential motives: I would have helped only because if I didn't, it would have been obvious to her that I wasn't helping her. But since there was a crowd, I could hide and she would never know what I didn't do. What does this say about my heart? It says: I have conditions on when and where I can love. I only serve out of obligation. I do good deeds to be seen.

I've deceived myself into thinking I truly love my neighbor - but this isn't love. It isn't even close. It's complete selfishness.

For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.
Romans 3:23 NIV

Theoretically, I've always known my heart is full of sin - but it still shocked me to where my stomach literally hurt when I saw it plainly laid out there so terribly repulsive like that. It's devastating to see who I am without God's love, yet I'm filled with peace to realize what power of Salvation His grace really offers when I see the devastation He's saving me from. It's humiliating yet awesome to know that this is who Jesus sacrificed Himself for: this ugly, selfish heart.

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness. "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him."
Lamentations 3:22-24 KJV

I am so ashamed of my actions, but the truth behind them is something I definitely needed to be slapped in the face with. It reminds me of that basic truth I've heard since I was a baby but my thick adult skull still has trouble allowing in: I absolutely need Jesus. He is absolutely the only One who can cover my sin and save me from my own deceitfulness. I'm not just nothing without Him, I am horrible without Him. His love, unlike the "love" I default to, isn't conditional. It's everlasting. He renews his mercies every morning, and will keep revealing to me how to live the Truth of His Love. Praise God that the tears of an anonymous woman (who I hope was eventually comforted by someone less cowardly than myself) could teach me such a powerful lesson.

Do you have a story of a time when you were reminded of just how much you need Jesus? Please edify our community and share it below!

Guest Writer: Veronica Gaskin

Tue, 17 May 2011 23:12:00 EDT

Would you like to go to Heaven some time? Of course we would want to. You ask why would we want to? Well, It’s because God’s the nicest of all.

There at heaven, the greatest place of all where almost everyone wants to go there because there is someone that is the best of all witch is God the great.

No matter what age you are you die some time. I know that dying is really sad but you have to die at some point to see God cause God is the greatest!

When you pray to God he always answers your prayers. Why? Cause God loves you. Why? Cause God made you. Why? Cause God wanted to see living things. Why? Cause God wanted to fill up the emptiness. Why? Cause that's how the universe started.

Keep It Real

Tue, 17 May 2011 16:36:00 EDT

I really love my little house, but it never has seemed neat or finished enough to feel worthy of a photo session. However, I finally made peace with the fact that the beauty of my home isn't negated in the least just because it's not in its idealized state!

Sunday afternoon, I decided to just go for it: I went around the house and captured scenes of Gaskinland. I didn't clean up or move a thing. And I loved the result: not only did I reveal the essence of our home, but also the fact that it is a place where life gets lived:

Yes, a a disgusting pile of dirty dishes can be beautiful - it's evidence our family is well-provided for:

This is everyone's favorite spot in the house. It's definitely well-used and well-loved. I keep matching black slipcovers on the couches when I want it to look fancy. But this is its everyday look:

Andy runs his own business from home - he's here in the living room all day, every day. I love his laid-back fearlessness. I love that he's a risk-taker who would rather eat PBJs every day and see his babies grow up than have the financial security of a salary job but be far from home all day. I love his constant presence in our home. I love him!

What this mess really says is, "Amy has been spending so much time cuddling her sweet newborn baby, she doesn't care if her studio gets turned into a junk pile for a while:"

Not only is a bunk bed a great space saver - but it makes a great fort during the day. Ronnie and Alexa share the top bunk, and Penny sleeps on the bottom. Evie will join her when she's big enough:

The clothes house of four amazing little girls:

So...what does every day look like for you? Are you brave enough to capture your house, your projects, yourSELF at this very moment in time - no set up or clean up involved? We often post ideal snippets of our lives, but rarely do we allow others a glimpse of a non-contrived setup of what we most passionately want to reveal about ourselves.

Join the Keep It Real group photo pool I've created on Flickr, and contribute your tasteful snapshots of real life.
Here are the rules:

1. Keep the material limited to subjects and projects in your daily life that help define you - whatever it is that you live and breathe these days.
2. Only post pictures that are not set up. These are snapshots of real life, not idealized compositions.
3. Basic editing (Cropping, Color/Levels) is fine.
4. If people are in your shots, please keep clothes on. Postpartum bodies are awesome, but please be modest.

So, liberate youself! Come as you are, and share the beauty of your life just as it is right now!

Evangeline's Birth Story

Tue, 03 May 2011 14:17:00 EDT

I was admitted to the hospital for 24 hours on April 4th due to high blood pressure (159/100), borderline-high levels of protein in urine, and high uric acid blood levels. Afterward, I was prescribed bedrest. I was beginning to get very nervous because my pre-ecclampsia with Veronica started out exactly the same way. Pre-ecclampsia is a potentially life-threatening condition which necessitates an emergency induction, guaranteeing a host of medical intervention. Having experienced it first-hand with Veronica's birth seven years ago, I knew this was a scenario I wanted to avoid.

At my 38 week appointment on Wednesday, April 20th, I told Michelle, the midwife seeing me that day, that although ideally I wanted to wait for labor to begin as nature intended, the symptoms I had developed were starting to concern me. Given that baby girl was measuring well and I was already "a good two centimeters" dilated and 50% effaced, it seemed smarter to at least try a simple induction now, while my health was relatively stable, than to risk developing pre-ecclampsia. She said really wanted me to wait another week before inducing, but did note my non-stress tests were perfect, the baby seemed healthy, and my body was favorable for inducing labor quickly. So she called the day's on-call doctor, Dr. Long, for a second opinion. He said to go ahead and schedule me for an induction 7:30am Friday, April 22nd.

I was pretty relieved to hear that. I asked Michelle what procedures would be involved. Since this wouldn't be an emergency induction, she said it was really up to me, and asked what my plans were for pain management. I told her I didn't want to use any meds, and she said that was great, it meant we could just do a gel induction and let things progress naturally from there. Theoretically, I could have as "normal" a birth as I had with Alexa and Penny, the only difference being I would already be at the hospital when labor started. Okay! She then stripped my membranes to try to get labor started on its own - which would have been great, but it only made me feel crampy for the rest of the day. Oh well.

Michelle also relieved me from my prescribed bedrest, since it obviously wasn't working. My blood pressure was still high, even after all that rest, and I was being induced in two days anyway. I went home, told Andy the plan, and spent the last two days of this pregnancy NOT on the couch! I happily spent all day Thursday nesting in the form of sewing the girls some matching Easter dresses.

Since I had no idea how long the induction would take, I told Andy he could just drop me off at the hospital Friday morning and I'd call him when I needed him. I don't mind being alone, in fact, I kind of like it. And I know boredom and anxiety is not the best combination for anyone, especially expecting dads, so I thought I would spare him. I arranged for my great friend Stephanie (who happens to be a school librarian whose school system had Good Friday off!) to come over to the house and watch the girls whenever I was ready for Andy to join me at the hospital.

Friday morning, I woke up spontaneously at 5:30am full of energy and excitement. I did some laundry and tidied the house a bit - it was pretty gross from being neglected while I was on bedrest. I woke the kids up, got them dressed and ready to go, and we all headed out the door to drop me off at the hospital. I had considered just walking the mile on my own to avoid having to get everyone up and ready. However, seeing that I was being induced for hypertension, walking even a mile would probably be frowned upon, eh? So we all loaded in the car for what would be the last time the whole family could legally fit in the little red Hyundai, and drove the mile down the road.

I asked to stop at Dunkin' Donuts on the way because I was hungry (egg white flatbread sandwich and small coffee, please), and because while packing my hospital bag the night before, I'd run across an online "what to bring" list that mentioned bringing a treat for the nurses' station. I thought that was a pretty nice idea. Although I inwardly debated whether donuts were the best choice. The recipients of these donuts would be taking care of me and needed to perform at their peak, not be drug down with lard and sugar, right? But then again, I wasn't going to win any cool points if I brought in a veggie tray. In the end, I chose to risk the stamina of my caretakers in favor of popularity, and ordered an assorted dozen.

Andy let me out in the hospital parking lot, we said a prayer, and I kissed everyone goodbye. With my red polka-dot overnight bag and fresh donuts in tow, I headed off to registration. It was odd to wait in line to register to do something so natural as have a baby, and I had to suppress a laugh as I told the lady at the front desk, "I'm Amy Gaskin; they're expecting me for an induction." The formal, corporate tidiness of the process was just really funny to me - quite a different experience from the earthy hoopla of arriving in triage in full labor. I handed over my photo ID and insurance card, signed a few forms, got my hospital bracelet, and was escorted to The Birthplace on the third floor.

Since my arrival was scheduled, no triage visit was necessary and I didn't have to wait for a room; there was already one waiting for me. With a meek little, "These are for you guys," I subtly left the box of donuts at the desk, and as I walked down the hall, I heard a faint, "Aww, did she bring us donuts?" Good. I was hoping the gift would come across as an attempt at sweet appreciation, not creepy bribery. Mission accomplished.

I was shown to room 319, asked to get into a hospital gown, and told someone would be by to get things started soon. Around 8:30a, a kind nurse named Mary (who I'd met during my overnight stay a couple of weeks earlier) came by to administer my paperwork, take a gazillion vials of blood and give me a standard IV solution. Although I'd successfully avoided getting an IV for Alexa and Penny's births, and I doubted the absoluteness of her statement that "all pregnant women are dehydrated," I really didn't have any reason NOT to get the IV solution. So I cooperated. She put in the needle, hooked me up to the external fetal monitor, and we chatted about her four boys and my four girls while I became a hydrated pregnant woman. I admit, I did feel pretty well after the fluids did their thing - and my sinus headache had disappeared. However, afterwards, she had to leave the heparin lock in place. And I hate hate hate the feeling of a heplock. I don't mind having blood drawn, I don't mind having an IV for a while- but the feeling of a needle left in my hand for hours and hours, while not unbearably uncomfortable, just disturbs me. And I'm always conscious of it because I can't help bumping it. Oh well.

Mary then asked if there was anything in particular I wanted during labor, which was a new question for me. I've never written a birth plan before. I have my ideals, stick to them, and just go with the flow - and the flow usually goes very well. I said all I could think of was what I DIDN'T want; I preferred to have as little medical intervention as possible. She asked what my plans for pain management were - I said I didn't have any - then I corrected myself and said, "I mean, my plan is to not use any medication." She gave me an encouraging, "Good for you!" and asked one more time if I was sure I didn't have any preferences for the birth. So I said, "I want to hold and nurse her as soon as she's born," and she said "of course, that's a given!" She asked, "You want Daddy to cut the cord?" and I had to inform her that Andy doesn't "do" cord cuttings (he thinks it's weird). But I told her, "I'll cut it!" She jotted down my "preference" with a laugh and said, "Oh, okay...MOMMY cuts the cord! That's a new one!"

I was then told it would take a while for Dr. Manning to come see me, since the birthplace had been super busy that week. 9 babies had born the day before, there were twins waiting to be born next door, a lady with no prenatal care had just walked in 8cm dilated, and three other women had been admitted for inductions before I had arrived. Since I was a low-risk induction and all my vitals were fine (even my blood pressure was pretty good that morning: 128/70), I was a low-priority patient and it was quite a while before anyone came by to check on me again. Which was fine with me - I was in no hurry, and I had my Kindle to keep me company. I finished up the paperwork she'd left with me, then sat in the rocking chair and got started on the latest Newberry winner, Moon Over Manifest (which I'd bought with the gift card Whitney Almarez sent while I was on bedrest - thank you, Whit!).

At around 10am, Dr. Manning (who has 8 kids and is my favorite doctor, by the way), came by to report my bloodwork came back great and we were good to go on the prostaglandin gel. A long syringe administered the gel to my cervix and I had to lay in bed hooked up to the fetal monitor for an hour while the gel absorbed. She said I was still measuring at "2, almost 3" centimeters and was 50% effaced, and she'd be back in four hours to check if the gel was working. I asked if I was allowed to order lunch during that time and she said absolutely! So after Mary came in to let me up after my requisite hour of absorption, I ordered myself some chicken tenders and salad. I figured I was going to need some energy.

After about two hours, I felt a little crampy and had a few very mild contractions, but nothing timeable. I definitely was NOT in labor or anything, and I just continued to rock and read my book. But I did notice whenever I went to the bathroom, the crampy feeling intensified. I figured that was a helpful position and spent most of the time reading my book while sitting on the toilet, hoping gravity would help things along. Everyone knows I'm a bathroom reader anyway.

Around 2:30p, Dr. Manning came back to check on me. I figured since nothing was really happening, she would resort to administering another 4-hour dose of prostaglandin. She checked me and said I was "a good 3 centimeters" and 60% effaced. This didn't sound very promising to me. However, she said if she broke my amniotic sac, she was pretty certain I'd go into labor right away - no more gel needed. I wasn't so optimistic, but I said to go ahead. So she and Mary performed the quick amniotomy and my bed was instantly soaked. I figured it was time to call Stephanie to watch the girls so Andy could come over to the hospital - just in case Dr. Manning was right and things progressed quickly.

Well, Dr. Manning was right. While I was calling Andy I had a bona fide, wow-I-have-to-breathe-through-this, contraction! And they kept coming. Andy arrived a little after 3:00p and by then I definitely was in labor, with contractions coming about every five minutes! I had been laying in bed on my left side ever since Dr. Manning broke my water. I wasn't planning on getting up anytime soon - I was comfortable where I was, and managing the contractions nicely. They were starting to get pretty painful, so I wasn't able to talk much; I just asked Andy to rub my back and distract me with talk about every day stuff - work contracts, invoices, youtube videos, whatever. I noticed when he'd say something funny and I laughed a little bit, the laughter relieved the pain of the contractions somewhat. I've heard of "laughter therapy" but always found it, uh...laughable. But what do you know, I think there's something to it.

Eventually, though, I got to the point where I didn't want to hear any more conversation; the contractions were becoming so intense, difficult to manage while laying still, and I needed to pay attention to my body. A nurse named Cheryl, who had just begun her shift, came over to introduce herself and hook me up to the fetal monitor. I wasn't exactly cordial with her. Rather than exchange pleasantries, all I could manage to vocalize was "NO MONITOR PLEASE!" Having something strapped to me and laying still was not something I needed. I needed to move. Soon! She said, "How about I get the doppler?" and I said sure. She did a quick baby heartbeat check with the portable doppler - and baby sounded fine. She asked if I would like a birthing ball (inflatable exercise ball) and I said thanks, that would be great. I'd used one for a while when I was in labor with Alexa, and it definitely had helped me manage my labor better. She brought the huge ball in and set it aside for me to use if I needed it (turns out I didn't end up using it, but I appreciated the gesture all the same).

I asked Cheryl if Dr. Manning could go ahead and check me now because I was planning on getting up and didn't want to have to lay back down again any time soon. She asked, "is it okay if it's Molly? Dr. Manning is really busy and it might be a while before she can get to you." Molly is a relatively new Certified Nurse-Midwife who I'd met in the office before. She is very nice, a little spunky, and very passionate about her work. She'd made a good impression on me. And while I really like Dr. Manning, I knew there were other women on the floor who needed her more than I did, so I said Molly was fine. At 3:50p, Molly came in and checked me - I was 80% effaced and 5cm dilated, but she noted "the baby is still really high up, at negative 2 station." I wasn't really concerned about that; I figured she would move down once I spent more time in a vertical position. I was wanting to get up out of bed anyway. At this point the contractions were coming about every minute, and Molly noticed I'd been "sounding" (coping with pain by humming a comforting resonance) a little through them. She said, "I think it's time for the tub," and I agreed.

As I made my way toward the the jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, Cheryl asked if I needed to "empty my bladder." I always inwardly giggle at the various phrases heard from medical professionals referencing going to the bathroom; you never know what you're going to get. Some are the very formal "void in toilet" types, others just say "go pee." I guess it's a personal preference you must make when you go into medicine. Yes, these were the thoughts going through my head at that moment.

Andy started to follow me into the bathroom and I snapped at him, "You don't have to help me go to the bathroom!" Poor Andy, he was just trying to be helpful! However, birthing babies is one thing, but I just don't like my husband around while I'm going to the bathroom. I don't care if I am in the middle of labor, I'm just weird like that. I know one day I'm going to be old and frail and he's going to have to change my old lady diapers or something - but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I void in toilet alone.

So anyway, I did my business and then quickly changed into my tankini top. Molly and Cheryl later noted that they'd never seen a mom wear a swimsuit (or, half a swimsuit, rather) in the tub, and I mentioned this was my third time doing it. They said it must be my lucky suit. I guess so! I'm just much more comfortable laboring if I have SOMETHING on. I'm a modest girl if I can help it.

I plugged up the tub, turned on the water as hot as it would go, and blasted the water jets. Molly warned Andy, "things can progress really quickly once they're in the tub, so I'm going to go ahead and get everything ready!" I thought this sounded a little too optimistic for someone who had just been checked at 5cm, but whatever. I sat in the tub and...WOAH! The contractions went nuts and began what I can honestly call the most painful, intense experience I've ever had. Maybe it had something to do with having my water broken before transitioning - with both Alexa and Penny, the amniotic sac remained intact until right before birth and possibly provided some extra cushioning through the transitioning process. Or maybe now my cervix was just dilating at supersonic speed. Whatever was happening: WOW.

It was getting extremely difficult to manage the pain. I tried getting in a different position with each contraction, swinging my hips to counter the pressure, sounding a little more loudly through the contractions (I'm convinced I sounded like a drunk yoga instructor - Andy says this isn't true), and I just could not find anything that helped me stay on top of the pain and relax. I knew once I found a groove, I'd be fine - I was just having quite a time finding it. Andy did whatever he could to help me, even though there wasn't much he could do except offer me sips of water. But I loved having him there just the same. His presence is a calming influence; He's just that kind of guy. At one point he was bent over the tub, holding my forehead and for some dumb reason I was concerned he was going to get his sleeves wet. I tried to help him roll them up. I'm telling you, I really wasn't doing a good job focusing on my own body, which is probably another reason why I was in so much pain.

Contractions were practically on top of each other with hardly any relief in between. Right after whimpering through a horrendous one, I murmured, "This is ridiculous!!!" Andy didn't know what I was talking about at the time, but I was really starting to get mad. Mad at God that women had to go through this - no other natural process requires so much endurance and suffering. I couldn't wrap my mind around why I was doing what I was doing, what the point of these contractions even were - and why did I even want to have babies again? I was starting to let negative thoughts overcome me and it was greatly affecting my ability to cope with the crazy hard labor.

It only took a few seconds to realize my thoughts were completely counterproductive. I wanted to quickly change mental gears - and when the going gets tough, the tough quotes James. "The testing of your faith produces ENDURANCE" ran through my mind. All I really needed was to believe in my ability to endure this well. There were no other options; I had to get through it, and I could do it with a good attitude or a bad attitude. While no, I didn't have control over God's design of the birth process, I did have control over my attitude toward it. So I thought of all my babies at home and how of course I would have gone through whatever it took to get THEM here, so why was I being such a jerk now? I felt ashamed, but renewed, and prayed for peace and wisdom and strength and told myself to just focus on the AWESOME fact that very soon I would be holding a brand new baby girl!

Andy, oblivious of my inner dialogue, informed me he was going to turn off the water out of concern the bathtub would overflow. I was pretty sure there was an overflow valve or something that would prevent that. But just in case, I said okay, but to let ME turn off the water. I really don't know why I was so adamant about being the one to do it - perhaps subconsciously I saw this as an opportunity to feel in control of my environment. It took all my energy and focus to do it. I just stared that faucet dial down, practically hypnotized by it. And I turned that water off.

I then became acutely aware of the pulsating sound of the water jets all around me. I found it very soothing. I settled with my back against the the jets, listened to the water, put my chin down on chest, held on to the handles conveniently located on the sides of the tub, closed my eyes, and quietly and deeply breathed in and out while the contractions came on faster and with more intensity. Mustering up strength to perform the simple task of turning a faucet handle was what it took for me to get serious about focusing on what my body was doing. I'd found my groove and was able to stay on top of the pain. I felt very, very thankful.

Then Cheryl came in and wanted to do another doppler check. I ignored her. She asked if I felt any pressure? I ignored her. She kept asking questions and I kept ignoring her. Andy asked if I was okay (he was afraid I'd passed out or something) and I calmly whispered that I was fine. I simply could not afford to be interrupted. I had to make a decision to comply with my nurse or look out for myself. And I chose myself. Andy was confused about why I was acting the way I was, but when I later explained why I had been so "mean" to Cheryl, he understood. At that point, I couldn't worry if others assumed I was being rude. I'd found a way to cope, it was working beautifully, and I was determined not to be disturbed. I was aware of Cheryl's presence standing near the tub for a while, but I didn't say anything to her. I just kept doing my thing and made a mental note to apologize for ignoring her later. She left the bathroom and said she and Molly would be waiting for me when I was ready.

After a few more minutes, I suddenly felt the proverbial extreme pelvic pressure. While I have never felt the "overwhelming urge to push" that some women describe, I knew what this pressure meant: there was a baby ready to be born very, very soon. I also knew since my contractions were so close together, I was going to have to make the transition from tub to bed in one mad dash. So as soon as a contraction was over, I stood up, declared I was ready for the nurse, and shakily bolted out of the tub and up on to the bed before another contraction began.

Molly was at the ready to check me. She announced that the baby had moved down and I was "complete." I then smiled the BIGGEST SMILE, looked at Andy and said, "Yay! I'm complete!" My mood totally changed because I'd finally gotten to the part of childbirth that I'm completely at peace with. And the part I'm really, really good at. I'm a very efficient pusher! The pain of pushing a baby out, while very intense, doesn't bother me so much because I can wrap my mind around it - it makes sense to me. I understand why it hurts. I can visualize what's going on. I can control what I'm doing and why. The contractions were still coming on full strength but I could finally DO something with them. I got into my favorite birthing position: mostly upright, laying on my side, and used the side of the hospital bed for leverage. Molly or Cheryl (I couldn't tell who) applied a warm towel compress before I began to push, to help lessen my chances of tearing. They both kept encouraging me, repeating "listen to your body!" And although they didn't really NEED to tell me that (I was listening to my body very very well) I was so glad they offered a stark contrast to the team of people you see on TV shows, arbitrarily yelling, "PUSH! PUSH! PUUUUUUUUUUUSH!"

I waited for a contraction and carefully focused my abdominal muscles on pushing the baby down. I could feel everything so clearly, and I had a great mental picture of what was going on inside me. In that one push she'd made it all the way down to the birth canal and was crowning. I quietly waited for another contraction to come and let the baby stretch things out so I wouldn't tear when her head came out. Yeah, the "ring of fire" hurts - but it's a productive hurt; it has a purpose if you allow yourself to take it slow. Cheryl did a quick doppler check - baby's heartrate had dropped to 80bpm, but Molly said that was normal for a baby hanging out in the middle of the birth canal. And her heart-rate went right back up after a few moments. Another contraction came soon enough anyway - I pushed again and her head was out. And then a third push delivered the rest of her! Evangeline Emily Gaskin was officially born!

The feeling immediately after a baby is born is indescribable- all the pain suddenly disappears and is replaced by a wave of overwhelming elation. I leaned over and reached for my Evangeline who was completely purple and covered with vernix. She was making little noises, so I knew she was breathing and would be fine, and Molly suctioned out her nose and mouth while Cheryl tried to wipe her a little cleaner. I held her close and exclaimed over how absolutely tiny she was! I tried to nurse her, but she wasn't interested just yet. Andy was very concerned by her color and all the vernix, but Molly, Cheryl, and I reassured him that she was fine. And we were right, of course - she pinked up pretty quickly. I reminded Andy that she was born a little early, so it was normal for her vernix coating to still be pretty thick. Molly and I then started talking about how amazing vernix is, how it protects a baby skin in water for nine whole months, and how we'd both read somewhere that in some cultures, it's saved and used for medicinal purposes. Molly is someone I could easily be friends with in "real" life.

Molly handed me the scissors and told me where to cut the umbilical cord- and then snip! Evangeline was physically not connected to me anymore. I delivered the placenta a little bit later, which I described to Andy as being "probably the grossest feeling ever." But I did take a quick peek at it, out of respect that it supported my child's life for all those months.

I was so glad to be feeling like myself again, and remembered to apologize to Cheryl and Molly for giving them the silent treatment earlier. They laughed it off and said they understood. Molly said when she heard me sounding loudly in the tub (a.k.a. doing my best impression of a drunk yoga instructor) she figured I was beginning to transition, and when I got quiet I had found the will to refocus. I said that's exactly what had happened. I told her I guess every laboring woman should allow herself one good freak out moment, if only to let herself feel just how unproductive it is and to help motivate her to find something that works. She told me she was very proud of me and was impressed with how controlled I was during the whole process, especially while pushing. Which reminded me to ask her - did I tear at all? She checked and said, "Wow, nothing! Not even a brush burn! You should teach childbirth classes!" What an awesome compliment! One of these days I just might.

Molly said she had to run off to attend to some other laboring moms, but asked if there was anything I needed before she left. I asked if I could get the heplock removed and she said, no, they really like to keep it in at least an hour after birth, just in case something happens. Ooooooh well. Cheryl took baby Evangeline across the room to be weighed and measured: 6 lbs, 3.6 oz. and 18 inches long!

while I ordered some food: cheeseburger!

Since I hadn't been paying attention to the clock for quite some time, I finally remembered to ask what time she was born. Cheryl said 4:33p. Wow! No wonder those contractions were so nuts. I went from 5cm to birth in about 40 minutes. My entire labor from start (right after Dr. Manning broke my water) to finish was only about two hours.

Andy got in some cuddle time with Evangeline and then headed home to get the other girls so they could meet their new baby sister.

The girls came in and ooed and ahhhed over baby Evie. They were instantly in love and fell right into their big sister roles.

Penny even snuck in a requisite eye-poking.

I tried nursing Evangeline again, and this time she took to it immediately. Then I kissed all my big girls goodbye and told them I hoped to bring their sister home the next afternoon!

And...finally came my favorite part: the calm after the storm. The part where all is quiet, no one is hovering to take my vitals, no heplock is sticking me in the arm - it's just me and my Evangeline alone in our own little world for a little while, completely at peace, content to just stare at each other in awe of the experience we'd just gone through together.

Guest Writer: Veronica Gaskin

Mon, 21 Mar 2011 12:31:00 EDT

The best part I like about prayer is because when we talk to God you can’t see him because he is the best soul ever because he’s all over the world and he’s the nicest, so we’re praying to the nicest.

I wonder how God was made. Maybe he was made by dust. But he made dust! I just don’t know how God was made. How do you make a spirit?

I would never worship the Devil. The Devil wants to rule everything. (The Devil’s name was really Satan but we call him the Devil because he does mean things).Then the Devil tricked Eve. And I want to tell you: Hell is down there so that means Heaven is up there. Actually Hell isn't really down there and Heaven isn't really up there either, and they’re not in our universe either. Anytime we do something bad that we know is bad we are trying to obey the Devil. You can’t obey both you have to pick one. I would pick God.

How did we get the Bible? I don’t know. I think how we got the Bible is when the people from the Bible died people that explored the country that Jesus had been to had scrolls of the Bible that were written in Hebrew. They translated the language to English (witch is our language) so we can read the Bible here in North America so we can read about our heavenly father in the Bible so that’s how we got it.

AndyAmy Show - Episode 4

Mon, 21 Mar 2011 09:37:00 EDT

AndyAmy Show - Episode 3

Mon, 07 Mar 2011 08:39:00 EST

Guest Writer: Veronica Gaskin

Mon, 21 Feb 2011 11:20:00 EST

I already read lots of books about astronomy I just want to do more astronomy. I got a Book about astronomy and I got a astronomy Journal called Exploring Creation with astronomy By Jeannie Fulbright for Christmas.

I asked my mommy and daddy for the books so I can be an astronomer in my backyard. I want to practice it in my backyard cause I might want to do it when I grow up.

I love astronomy because it’s about places that no one has never been. I think we’ll maby never stop learning about astronomy because God maby made the universe infinity.

AndyAmy Show - Episode 2

Fri, 18 Feb 2011 10:25:00 EST

Kid vs. Car

Wed, 16 Feb 2011 13:47:00 EST

When we decided to procreate, we were quite aware this newest addition would make travelling together in our current vehicle [legally] impossible. We were also aware it wasn't in our financial plans buy a new vehicle any time soon.

However, Andy and I are stubborn enough to not let a relatively silly thing like a set of wheels get in the way of our freedom to grow our family. So, here I am, 6+ months pregnant with no immediate plans to purchase a bigger vehicle. And we're completely okay with that.

Many lifestyle choices we've already made (living in a walkable community, working from home, homeschooling, etc.) have made us debate in the past if we need a car at all. We ultimately decided to keep our current Little Red Hyundai for social reasons - it's very important for us to quickly and easily get to our friends' houses. And having a car makes running errands in the Pennsylvania winters much, much easier. So, we do know we prefer to own a car if we can.

And we do know we're going to eventually want something bigger, but we're not willing to compromise on quality by feeling pressured to get something really cheap but bigger before the new baby arrives. Right now it doesn't make sense to give up our paid-for, reliable car with fantastic gas mileage in exchange for a car payment on a gas-guzzling clunker that happens to have a few more seats.

So here's what we're going to do:

1. Leave some kids at home when running errands. Which is what we usually do anyway - remember, Andy and I are both home every day, so either one of us can go out independently pretty much anytime.

2. When we want to go somewhere together as a family, we'll walk, bike, take public transportation, rent a bigger vehicle, or if it's within reasonable distance, take two trips in the Little Red Hyundai.

3. Keep funding our car fund. And when we save enough, we'll sell the Little Red Hyundai and pay cash for a nice, reliable vehicle that can seat all of us.

And that's the plan. However, regardless of how or when or why we buy another vehicle, the heart of our decision comes down to this: We trust the God who designed our bodies to make these kids is also the One who provided for a human race which has proliferated for millenia with or without private transportation. So we're really not too concerned with the material details. We've been blessed with a strong, happy, healthy home environment and live by the simple philosophy that kids are always a blessing whether we can fit them all in our current vehicle or not.

A Bear is Built

Tue, 15 Feb 2011 14:28:00 EST

Alexa took one look at the selection of stuffed animal "skins" and immediately decided on a bright pink dog. When it came time to stuff her selection, she asked for "not too much fluff." Then, she made her way to a station where she gave her stuffed dog a "bath" with forced air. When prompted to pick out one outfit for her dog, she replied, "No thank you. My dog is fine just the way she is." Uncle Zach, who was paying, was perfectly fine with that decision.

Penny was next to make her selection. Since she didn't seem drawn to any animal in particular, I narrowed her choices down to the two least-expensive options. She proudly said, "THAT ONE!" and pointed to a light tan bear. I handed her the bear's "skin" and she hugged it tight and gave a huge smile. Oblivious of the rest of the process, she would have been perfectly content to take just a bearskin home. Next, she followed directions when asked to press the foot pedal that filled her bear with stuffing, but was too scared to give her bear an air bath. While perusing the clothing selections, she decided she wanted ALL the outfits: "THAT ONE! THAT ONE! THAT ONE!" but ultimately decided on an easy to dress/undress pink shirt and pair of ruffly socks.

Ronnie spent a loooooong time deciding on an animal to stuff. After careful consideration, she narrowed her choices down to a snowy owl or a bright blue bear covered with peace signs. She deliberated over these two for a while and finally decided on the peace bear because, "I have an owl at home, but I don't have a bear with peace signs." She stuffed and "washed" her bear and then carefully selected an outfit she deemed a perfect complement to her bear's coloring and personality.

Next came the Birth Certificate process where each kid picked a name for the animal they'd stuffed and dressed (or opted not to dress). Ronnie came up with a name that she thought reflected the peace aspect of her bear's design:

Alexa thought hard, stared at her creation for inspiration, and came up with a good, original name for her dog:

I held up Penny's bear and asked her, "What's her name?" And she told me. I said, "Are you sure?" and she said, "Yes." Maybe she'll develop her creative streak later. Or maybe she's just practical:

It was a fun experience for the girls (thank you Uncle Zach and Augustana!) and when they came home, they started planning all the new outfits they say I'm going to make for their animals. Hmm. Sounds like it's time for some little girls to learn how to sew...

A Kid Named Alexa

Mon, 14 Feb 2011 20:30:00 EST

While I know her reading skills will develop when she's ready, I also know it's my responsibility to manipulate her environment with whatever she needs to develop those skills. Today I realized all the tools in her arsenal are based on what worked for Ronnie when she was beginning to read. I haven't been following Alexa's lead at all - I've been following her big sister's!

Luckily I had this revelation during a relatively quiet time in our house. Taking advantage of the opportunity to have some one-on-one time with Alexa, I attempted to appeal to her personality in a very literal way: I took a few minutes to scribble out a book all about HER. She really, really loved it, and, of her own accord, happily sat down and concentrated for a good half hour until she'd read her entire story. I love that a handful of sentences and goofy illustrations stapled together in love left her with a no-stress, joyful motivation to read all by herself.

(can you find the Angry Bird?)

(she wears socks on her hands when she plays dress-up)

(yes, our TV really is that old)

Who's using up all the internet?

Thu, 10 Feb 2011 19:43:00 EST

Mopping and Mellencamp

Wed, 26 Jan 2011 12:14:00 EST

I decided to deep-clean the bedroom. I'm talking washing windows, scrubbing baseboards, dusting ceiling fans: the works. The girls wanted to help, so I gave them some microfiber rags, tuned the radio to the classic rock station, and we all went to work.

While engaged in our collective scrubbing and rocking out, Ronnie kept me immersed in a steady game of What's-This-Song-and-Who's-Singing-It? She also wanted details of each artist: when they wrote the song, if they were still alive, if they had any kids, what they looked like, etc. I kept taking breaks to look up information (shamefully, I'm not completely up to date on the life and times of Grand Funk Railroad). We were bordering on three hours of cleaning just the one small room, and I really wanted to just finish, so I suggested she keep a list of everyone who came on the radio and later, we could look up what she wanted to know.

So, that's what she did:

Even though her spelling was adorable, I told her it would be MUCH easier to look things up if the names were spelled correctly, so I re-wrote the list and she decided to copy it over in better handwriting. I pinned it on the wall where it waited until I made some time to look up the artists in our library system's online catalog. I put some relevant books and CDs on hold and a few days later, we walked to the library to pick them up.

On the way, Andy noticed some crazy icicles and we all discussed how they had formed.

I had asked Ronnie to bring her List of Musicians along; I wanted her to experience the process of independently looking up information in the library. After showing her how the CDs were organized by band name or artist's last name, she chose someone off her list and started sifting through the M's. She was very excited when she found a John Mellencamp CD all by herself!

We headed downstairs to the children's library where Ronnie, inspired by the fact that her middle name is Stevie, searched through the biographies for something on Stevie Wonder. Alexa, who loves anatomy, went off on her own search and discovered a book that looked very interesting to her.

We picked up our holds, added our new finds, and checked them all out. Of course I had the inevitable fine, and let Ronnie count the required funds from my wallet and pay the librarian. At home, I played some of our freshly checked-out CDs (skipping songs with not-so-appropriate lyrics), and Ronnie read her books. She learned that Stevie Wonder can't see, and decided to find out what being a blind musician might be like.

She said it wasn't so hard if you paid attention to what your fingers were feeling and ears were hearing. Which led us to conversations about how God designed our senses, and how our bodies can function when those senses are disabled, and braille, and wheelchairs, hearing aids and cochlear implants...and the learning process just keeps going on and on....

Adventures in Bear or Dog or SomeThing Making

Tue, 25 Jan 2011 21:47:00 EST

Ronnie told me I needed to sew some stuffed animals, since, in her words, "homemade stuff is so much cuter." I've been intimidated by toy-making because when I first started sewing, my sister and I made a VERRRRRY simple rag doll for Newborn Penny, and I remembered it being such a tedious process. But then again, that was two years ago and, well, now I have two years of sewing experience under my belt. And Ronnie's right: our house deserves to have funny little stuffed animals strewn about. So, I decided to give it a shot.

I bought Hsiu-Lan Kuei's fantastic Sew Me, Love Me to give me some pointers, and asked the girls to pick out a project they wanted me to try. They picked "Bedtime Bear" - an adorable teddy made from two socks. I stole some groovy socks from Penny and a bag of dried beans from my pantry and headed to the studio. My creation of course looks nothing like Bedtime Bear (you really thought I could follow a pattern!?!), but I still adored the result. And so did the girls, even though they said it looked more like Bedtime DOG.

Alexa said the dog needed some clothes, so I made a little smock and undies out of some vintage Strawberry Shortcake material I had in the scrap pile. After I showed her the cute little clothes, Alexa informed me the dog is a BOY and I should have made HIM something else. OH WELL.

Ronnie and Alexa agreed since Penny is the baby (for now), she can officially have Bear/Dog, but they made me promise I will make animals for them this week, too. I'm looking forward to seeing what I come up with. And this toy-making is giving me all sorts of goofy ideas for the shop, too - Star Wars Squid, anyone?

Hot & Dark Chocolate Mousse

Tue, 25 Jan 2011 21:05:00 EST

2 tsp unflavored gelatin (like Knox)
2 Tbsp cold water
4 Tbsp boiling water
1 Cup confectioners sugar
1/2 Cup dark chocolate cocoa powder
2 Cups heavy cream
2 tsp vanilla
1+ tsp cayenne pepper (the hotter the better!)

Combine sugar, cocoa, heavy cream, and vanilla and mix until peaks form - in other words, until it looks moussey.

Fill a small bowl with water and microwave it for about 2 minutes. While it's microwaving:

Put the cold water in a different small bowl, and THEN add the gelatin to the cold water (if you do the gelatin first, it'll stick to the bottom). Whisk with a fork IMMEDIATELY or it'll get clumpy and gross. Keep whisking until everything looks uniform.

Add 4 Tbsp of the boiling water to your gelatin mixture. Whisk it for about a minute.

Mix the hot gelatin mixture thoroughly into the chocolate mixture, but don't mix it too long. 30 seconds is probably enough.

Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. Once it's set, mix in the cayenne.

Makes about 6 cups. Supposedly that's 24 servings, but we know better.

Ten Dollar Table

Mon, 24 Jan 2011 19:16:00 EST

1. Hang out at the thrift store, preferably on half price day.
2. When you spot a really cute, sturdy vintage suitcase, grab it.
3. Repeat the process for a few weeks until you have a nice little collection.
4. Pick out 5 of your absolute favorite cases and stack them.
5. Play around with the arrangement until you find something that works for you.
6. Voila! A suitcase table.
7. Put the table in a corner so it will have little chance of getting toppled.

8. Use the suitcases for *secret storage.*

Self Portraits 101

Fri, 21 Jan 2011 23:01:00 EST

If you shoot from above, you may appear slimmer.

If you shoot from below, you may appear larger.

If you look at the flash instead of the lens, you may cause permanent retinal damage.

The end.

AndyAmy Show Episode 1

Sun, 16 Jan 2011 14:38:00 EST

Mess or Masterpiece?

Sat, 18 Dec 2010 23:31:00 EST

Penny slapped me in the face with Isaiah 55:8 today. It came in the form of a Sharpie to an expensive quilt and reiterated the fact that holding on to my own “right way” of life keeps me from the joy of trusting my God.

As I stared at the big brown happy faces emblazoned on the Pottery Barn quilt, my first reaction was to pout and search for remedies to remove them. I didn’t think they belonged there. They didn’t fit my idea of what my quilt should look like. What Penny had chosen to do was not "my way." And that really frustrated me for a moment.

Penny the Artist found a canvas to her liking and thought it a completely suitable place to display her work. She didn’t do anything inherently wrong, in fact, knowing her nature, I can almost guarantee she did it purposefully to spread joy (they're HAPPY faces, after all)! I nearly chose to shut out her gift of joy because I was holding on dearly to my own subjective ideals.

How often do I purposefully shut out God’s joy in my life because of my vain ideals? Any time I worry, have fear, or moments of despair, I fail to trust my God. I essentially attempt to blot out His peace when I deem His ways aren’t fitting my ideal of what my life should be like. How many beautiful blessings from God have I, because of my selfish and stubborn will, interpreted as ugly burdens?

Ultimately, I chose to see Penny’s artwork as a masterpiece to embrace rather than a mess to clean up. I’m keeping those happy faces. They'll serve not only as an endearing reminder of her sweet toddlerhood, but as a powerful reminder to not despair over what I perceive as messes in life. Thank you, Penny, for encouraging me to let go of my own will and allow Jesus alone to work the masterpiece of His Father’s love on me.

Who Needs Snow?

Sat, 18 Dec 2010 13:46:00 EST

Love & Marriage: an interview with Veronica and Alexa

Wed, 15 Dec 2010 13:49:00 EST

How does a person decide whom to marry?
V: by making sure they’re nice and they love God.
A: I will pick a good person who is a boy.

What is the proper age to get married?
V: 22, because it just sounds right
A: thirty or twelve

How did your mom and dad meet?
V: you went to the same college!
A: you just met and then just got married

When is it okay to kiss someone?
V: when you’re married
A: if you ask them and they say it’s okay

Is it better to be single or married?
V: to be married, because you want to be together and have kids
A: to get married, because you can love somebody

How do two people decide they will love each other?
V: even if they just meet, they will love each other if they want to obey God, because God says we should love everyone, even our enemies.
A: because one’s a girl and one’s a boy

How can a stranger tell if two people are married?
V: they usually have the same last name, they live in the same house, they’re both grownups, and they wear rings
A: because they have a wedding

What do your mom and dad have in common?
V: you’re both nice, clean the house, love God, go to church, you like to have kids, and play the piano
A: you can both cook eggs on the stove

What would you do if you were on a date and it wasn't going well?
V: pray to God
A: I’d tell the boy to stop being mean.

What is it like to fall in love?
V: you know you’re having a good time with your best friend who is a boy
A: you feel happy and if you’re sick you know they’ll take care of you.

Is it important to be good-looking if you want to get married?
V: It doesn’t matter if the boy I marry is handsome or not, he only has to be nice. He can be a nice, handsome guy or a nice, not-handsome guy, I don’t care. But he has to be NICE!
A: Yes, he has to be pretty and cool.

Why do people in love hold hands?
V: because they know each other and want to be close together forever.
A: because they want to get married

How do you make a person fall in love with you?
V: make sure he loves God and then of course he’ll love me!
A: you get married

How can you tell if two adults eating dinner at a restaurant are in love?
V: they’re probably out celebrating the day they got married and they’re very nice to each other
A: they’d be sharing their food

How do you make love last forever?
V: You promise to not ever get divorced!
A: you just do. You just love them.

How would the world be different if people didn't get married?
V: there would be no more children! Unless people decided to disobey God and have babies without getting married.
A: I would be sad if someone said, “Alexa you can’t get married.”

Blink. Honk.

Wed, 20 Oct 2010 13:46:00 EDT

I enjoy the sense of escape that comes with encapsulating myself in a private island on a sea of road. But often, something interrupts the autonomous driving experience and I’m acutely reminded of the fact I'm sharing this road with other encapsulated souls. And I really wish I had the ability to cogently communicate with them, not as a vehicle, but as Amy.

On the road, I feel most crippled by the inability to effectively communicate the phrases “Thank you” and “I’m sorry.” The message of those powerful words just can’t always be adequately sent with my limited arsenal of motor vehicle communication: a wave of the hand, a flash of headlights, a honk of a horn. I know truckers can flash thank-yous and all sorts of other useful messages with their four way lights and marker interrupt switches - but I drive an Elantra.

Another driver kindly lets me in a long line of traffic, but it’s dark and they can’t see my hand raised in appreciation. They don’t know their efforts aren't being taken for granted. I long for a simple way to send a little voice of humanity to them. Perhaps I can push a simple button which I'm confident relays a warm “Thank you so much! I appreciate you!”

I accidentally cut someone off. I promise I'm not being an inconsiderate jerk - it's an honest mistake. The offended one communicates disgust with the honk of a horn and a lovely hand signal. Technically, I can choose to reciprocate the driver’s aggression, but that’s just not my thing, so there’s really nothing I can do to answer back. I do nothing but go on my way while the driver behind me fills with road rage. Of course, it’s that driver’s choice not to give me the benefit of the doubt - but I think the road would be a safer place if we all had the ability to send other drivers some peace in the form of an “Oh wow, I just made a really dumb mistake. Please forgive me?”

Do you feel limited by your ability to communicate in a car? How would you go about designing a universal thankfulness or apology message for motor vehicles? Would it be a blinking light, a secondary horn, a hand signal? Leave a comment and share your thoughts!

Alexa Makes an Enlightening Discovery

Tue, 21 Sep 2010 23:12:00 EDT

Alexa: "I saw God at camp!"
Me: "Oh really? What did he look like?"
Alexa: "Not a he. A girl. A girl with short hair who teaches Penny's old Bible class. One time Miss Cathy said Penny was going to class to learn about God and then she gave Penny to God and God put her in her little yellow seat."

Me: "You mean Miss Jana?"
Alexa: "Yeah!"
Me: “You think Miss Jana is God who made the whole world? Who made YOU?”
Alexa: “Yeah....isn’t she?”

I see where she got confused, and on one hand, it’s a testament to her innocence. On the other hand, this misconception of God had less to do with being four years old, and more to do with just how easily a person can be influenced by ignorance if their foundation is not firm.

Although I’m sure Alexa wouldn’t have gone her whole life believing her baby sister’s Bible class teacher was the Creator of the universe, I was woken up to just how vigilant I must be to purposefully help my children understand who Jehovah is.

Alexa and I sat down in the papasan together and had a very, very long discussion. She cried a little when she found out Miss Jana hasn’t been making trips back and forth from Heaven to church and the hearts of mankind, but was happy to learn her essential idea of God is still correct: that God lives and works in Miss Jana, and also in everyone who loves Him and is called according to His purpose.

Read to Dogs

Thu, 16 Sep 2010 22:03:00 EDT

One program I’d been encouraging Ronnie to participate in is the children’s library’s “Read to Dogs” night, where specially trained therapy dogs listen to children read to them. But every time I would ask Ronnie if she wanted to register to participate she would give a nervously emphatic, “NO.”

As many of our friends experienced, both Ronnie and Alexa had the habit of screaming at the top of their lungs if they saw a dog in their vicinity, even the pet of someone they loved and trusted. Ronnie’s fear was understandable; she’d been bitten by a family pet when she was four. Alexa learned the fear from her big sister.

The tides began to change during a friend’s birthday party when they got to know the sweet, gentle, passively loving golden retreiver Zoey (who, sadly, has since gone on to Doggy Heaven). In the course of an afternoon they discovered dogs are not the terrible creatures they’d imagined, but can be a wonderful source of joy and friendship.

Since then, they’ve become more and more brave as they allow themselves to gain more experience around dogs. Nowadays, Alexa will run up to and ask to pet any dog she meets. Ronnie is still a bit leery and is not likely to initiate contact, but is content to follow her sister’s lead.

During a trip to the library a few weeks ago, Alexa noticed the “Read to Dogs” posters featuring a beautiful golden retriever like Zoey. She was ecstatic and asked if she could please sign up. Since the program is for readers, it would be Ronnie who would have to do the signing up, so she begged and begged her big sister to participate. Ronnie said YES!

Ronnie woke up with a sense of excitement this morning, even though she would have to wait until 7:30 tonight for her timeslot with a therapy dog. She carefully chose a book from her bookcase, one she said she thought a dog would find interesting: What Makes a Magnet (you'll have to ask her about the logic behind that one. I have no idea).

Ronnie, Alexa, and I headed over to the library in the rain, umbrellas and What Makes a Magnet in hand. When we arrived in the children’s library, we noticed a yellow lab (who we later learned is named Liberty) laying sleepily in a quiet corner, her owner by her side, and a little blonde boy sitting cross-legged reading a book about dragons to her. As we walked around the library, we noticed two more similar scenes of quiet reading to dogs. Ronnie said, “They’re not even on leashes! But I won’t be scared!” and Alexa had on the biggest grin you can imagine.

7:30 finally arrived and Ronnie was called over to meet Trey, an 11-year-old three-legged German Shepherd mix, who gets around in a comfy red wagon with the help of his owner. After introductions, which included much petting and giving of doggy-treats, Ronnie settled down by Trey’s big quilt and read him her book. She even made sure to show him the pictures. Alexa sat quietly by, mesmerized by the experience. She hasn’t really shown great interest in reading on her own, but on her own initiative she got out her Bob Books to read in bed this evening, because, she says, “I need to learn to read since I can’t wait until it’s MY turn to read to dogs!”

Here’s a short clip of Ronnie reading to Trey. Sorry about the poor sound quality - she was reading really quietly - I guess since she was in a library and all... ;)

Princess Party from Party Pooper Princess Protesting Parents

Tue, 14 Sep 2010 19:37:00 EDT

You see, my mom and close friend Stephanie consider it their royal duty to foil all my and Andy's anti-princess intentions, earnestly doing their utmost to bequeath unto the girls Disney Princess games, toys, books, dress-up clothes, and movies at every chance.

So when Alexa asked please please please please PLEEEEEEEEEEASE could she have a Princess & the Frog (a movie I actually loved, by the way) party for her fourth birthday, I inwardly groaned a mighty groan, but ultimately relented, lest I be thrown into the dungeon.

But Alack! I was in charge of this party (heh heh heh!) and well, you know me, I nerdily took this party as an opportunity to create and educate. In honor of the New Orleans setting for Princess & The Frog, I made a birthday menu of: café au lait (which was served with much, much more lait than café), swamp gumbo (a.k.a. vegetarian gumbo), and of course, beignets.

I had never made beignets before, and I don't know how authentic they turned out to be, but they were surprisingly easy to make and really fun to eat. And everyone loved them - most importantly, Alexa!

Cafe du Gaskin Beignets
Serves 12

3 teaspoons active dry yeast
2 cups very warm water
1 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
3 eggs
1 & 1/4 cups evaporated milk
9 cups all-purpose flour (yes, nine!)
1/3 cups shortening
4 cups vegetable oil for frying
confectioners' sugar to taste
honey to taste

In a big bowl, dissolve the yeast in warm water. Then add the granulated sugar, salt, eggs, evaporated milk, and blend well. Mix in half the flour and beat until smooth. Add the shortening and remaining flour. Blend well. Cover and chill for about an hour, but not more than 24 hours. Roll out the dough 1/8 inch thick. Cut into shapes roughly 2 1/2 inches across (squares work nicely, but you can make any shapes!) Fry them several at a time in 360 degree F (180 degrees C) hot oil. The oil really does have to be this hot, or the beignets will not pop up! When the beignets have popped up and turned a light golden color, carefully flip them over for a few seconds, to brown the other side. Remove them from the oil and drain them onto paper towels. Drizzle honey and shake confectioners' sugar on top. Serve warm.

In Quick Defense of Environmental-ism

Tue, 14 Sep 2010 17:44:00 EDT

Growing up with the view that a person would have a hard time loving God if they spent any time protecting the subastral, you maybe did your fair share of mocking environmentalists or even spent your Earth Hour in snarky parody, celebrating Human Achievement Hour instead.

If you're like me, you also probably eventually felt pressure to be more open-minded, and upon further introspection slowly realized the joyful art of stewardship of creation, which allowed you to strike a truce with those more zealous lovers of this world.

So here you and I are, at peace with the decision to be conscious stewards of God's blessings without compromising our values. But, like me, do you still find it necessary to defend yourself as as you appear a stumblingblock to some who believe you're playing the part of humanist rather than Christian?

It's so hard to know what to say to accusations like those, especially when my decisions are for reasons of personal faith, rather than in defense of certain doctrine. Being involved in the stewardship of creation leads me to be more acutely aware this planet is a habitat specifically designed, making it easier to experience just how the earth itself declares His glory, and how basking in the glory of my own hands might have more of a negative impact on me than I initially thought.

Consider light pollution: the nighttime sky has been nearly blotted out. Consider sprawling concrete jungles which block panoramic landscapes and displace flora and fauna. Of course neither electricity nor large cities are inherent evils; I hearitly enjoy them both, and the Word of God will prevail no matter what humans may do. The very fact that God created us to be capable of creation of our own is a declaration of His glory in itself! It's not that I long to do away with the works of human hands but that I long to be more conscious of the works of the Creator.

As a lover of God and not this present world, my desire to protect the environment really has nothing to do with the environment itself, but stems from an earnest desire to understand Who I love. When I make that conscious effort to make fewer alliances with an augmented view of creation, it becomes so much easier for me to know my Lord.

60 Minute Woman Power Propaganda

Sat, 14 Aug 2010 01:55:00 EDT

While applying for grad school, I was given 60 minutes to write a 200-800 word essay "about a time you succeeded by perseverance and determination." The way I'm wired makes it impossible to pass up opportunities to sneak in a little woman power propaganda. So, I did not choose to write about the time I placed second in the elementary school science fair, even though that was pretty cool. I hope those given the unsuspecting task of reading this essay find themselves encouraged, a tiny bit more informed, a little amused, and not too grossed out. Oh, and you know, I hope I'm accepted to their school:

The choice to give birth naturally in a hospital required much dedication and perseverance. Advocating for the birth I wanted while undergoing such a physical and emotional challenge was a daunting task, especially while being cared for by professionals whose ideas about childbirth differed from mine. However, a completely natural childbirth with no medical intervention was possible because I was armed with a strong will, a sense of peace, and confidence my body could successfully do what it was designed to do.

As soon as I arrived at the hospital’s birthing room, I was faced with a challenge to exhibit my will. The nurses had ordered me to lie in bed, have my contractions monitored, and be given an IV. I was determined to decline everything in favor of freedom from laying on my back or dragging a pole around. Although it would have been easier to not debate the issue, I was more interested in procuring my liberty. Since I had been declared healthy in triage just ten minutes earlier, the nurses were successfully persuaded by my requests, and set me free. Without being tethered to monitors or medical equipment, I was able to intently relax and focus on the task at hand.

Because I was able to get into any position I deemed productive for laboring, I had a sense of control which gave me peace. I laid in the jacuzzi tub for a while, sat on an exercise ball, and when I started to transition to second stage labor where the contractions are incessant, I was content to lay on my side and hold on to my husband’s wonderfully comforting, familiar hand. Focused on the knowledge that my baby girl would be here very soon instead of the fact that the contractions were incredibly painful, I was able to readily face the incredibly physically demanding task that lay ahead.

Prepared for the real work to begin, I meditated on all I had studied about this fascinating process that was now taking place in me, and trusted my body was specifically designed to handle it. Knowing millions of women for thousands of years had successfully gone through this exact process empowered me with strength to endure the most physically demanding task of my life. Filled with grateful anticipation and no fear whatsoever, I breathed through a couple of contractions before I decided to push with the next contraction. Working with all my might while retaining complete control, three confidently determined pushes later, I heard the healthy cry of my daughter and was overcome with every positive emotion that exists.

As I held my child for the first time and wondered in awe at this miracle of life I’d just witnessed, I realized that being acutely involved, both physically and mentally, in the entire birthing process helped me feel immediately connected to that miracle. Having a will to persevere gave me the control I needed to peacefully and confidently trust my body to do its job. The birth of every child is a remarkable experience, no matter how he or she arrives, and because of my determination to have the birth I desired, my experience was not only remarkable, but a complete joy.

Honestly, I left out some messy details, and the essay is actually a conglomeration of both Alexa's and Penny's births. While I know not every birth goes so smoothly (there's a reason Ronnie's arrival was not included in the birth story potpourri), I think the story works as an interesting application essay. At least I hope the school thinks it does.

Car-less or Careless?

Sun, 08 Aug 2010 15:39:00 EDT

These excellent effects alone make going car-less worth considering, but like most decisions where you fly by the seat of your pants, the idea initially stemmed from a financial root: we need cash, we need it fast, and our car is the most valuable thing we can quickly sell.

It might sound reactionary or pretentious, but it's actually a very feasible option for us. We both work from home, we homeschool our kids, and we live in a relatively walkable neighborhood. It's a pleasant stroll to church, library, bank, plenty of shopping, and a delicious diversity of restaurants. If we need to make a long-distance trip, it's simple to snag a bargain mass-transit fare or car rental online. For running errands where pulling 3 kids in a wagon would turn a leisurely walk into a torturous trek, we can bike or take the city bus. And if Cumberland County officials ever deem the project worthy, (maybe I'll run for office!), we could have a regional rail line running right through Camp Hill someday. The idea of actually going through with selling our only motor vehicle left me a little giddy as it seems like such an interesting challege. I'm curious to know what the Gaskin Family could learn about itself in the process.

But the idea comes to a halt as suddenly there looms a wall containing this obvious fact: We have social lives outside our immediate community. We have many friends and we love them dearly. What about those meetings with friends miles away where waiting for a bus or taxi isn’t a timely option? What about birthday parties? What about when friends invite us over? The holistic reasons making this decision are negated if it turns me into the jerk who incessantly bums rides, always has to say no because taxis are prohibitively expensive, and burdens everyone with an unconventional choice that ultimately reads: “I love saving money more than I love hanging out with you.” Car-lessness might have worked just fine for Anne when Diana was just a quick walk through the Haunted Wood away, but suburban sprawl isn’t conducive to walkable friendships. I’m not willing to sacrifice fellowship for frugality.

So, the brainstorm has turned into a fog. But rather than give up the idea completely, I’m delegating the brainstorm to you; perhaps there’s a glaring pro/con/solution to my conundrum that I’m seeing right past. Do you have anything to add to the table below? Leave me a comment, I'd love to know your perspective.

PROS:

Financial:

-no tires (every 4 years or so avg: ($100/y)

-no registration ($35/y)

-no maintenance: oil changes, fluid refills, etc. ($100/y)

-no emissions test ($30/y)

-no inspection ($30/y)

-no repair costs (most people spend avg. $400/y, more the older the car gets)

-no insurance ($50/m)

-no fuel ($70/m not including road trips)

-less likely to make on-the-fly purchases or buy more than we need

-sell now, kbb value: $4630

Health:

-increased exercise and time outdoors = -decreased health/body issues!

-VASTLY decreased injury/death risk with less time on the road

-increased mental health as we challenge ourselves

-decreased stress levels (one less thing to maintain or pay for!)

Social:

-meet people on public transportation

-feel more connected to our community

-blog about experience

-less environmental impact

-support local economy

-motivation to support a regional rail system in Cumberland County (it was originally rejected)

-inspire Andy to try all the fantastic restaurants down the street rather than hit the Arby's drive-thru :)

Practical:

-increased educational opportunity for kids

-extra free time when using PT

-easier to interact with kids while walking or using PT

-opportunity to experience driving different kind of cars when we rent

-more conscientious of how we manage our time and spend money on transportation

CONS:

Financial:

-public transportation (probably get a bus pass ($16/month)

-airfare, train, taxi, etc.

-Car rental, at the most 5 days a month (can rent an economy car at Alamo for $15/day = $75/month + gas)

-keep drivers licenses ($20 every 5 years; ($4/year per person = $8/yr.)

-I’ll have to buy a bike and bike trailer

Health:

-depend on others for emergency transport

-probably change health care providers to places within walking distance

Social:

-have to say no, or extensively plan to go on outings not within reasonable walking distance (birthday parties, etc.)

- gym membership, no Rich Valley gymnastics for kids, no spontaneous trips out of the borough

-bug people by asking them for rides or saying no

Practical:

-forced to plan where and when we go places outside our community

-have to really bundle up in the winter

Missed your midterms and flunked shampoo

Fri, 06 Aug 2010 15:47:00 EDT

One one hand, it's a hilarious and endearing little predicament, especially when I imagine how much she's going to laugh at these stories when she's older. On the other hand, it's remarkably difficult to remain patient when the disobedience is so blatant!!!....wait, how often do I blatantly lack self-control? Probably a lot more often than Alexa, if I'm honest with myself. Teaching a child to curb her will is easier and more effective with a heap of human understanding and careful removal of that plank in my own eye.

So, after a long talk about disobedience, and a reminder of the "My scissors are for cutting PAPER ONLY!" mantra, I put her in front of the mirror to reveal the effects of her cosmetology adventure. While I know Lex did it mainly for the tactile experience, she was also impressed with the visual outcome and declared her new 'do so very, very pretty!

I love the aesthetic assessments of little kids and had no intention of arguing with her perceptions of physical beauty. I truly wanted to keep her hacked up bangs just the way they were- as an artist I completely understand the need for self expression, and I've always made it a point to teach my girls that loving God is what brings about true beauty. But in the end, I opted to try to tame Alexa's bangs into a more conventional style. I summoned our friend Miss Margaret, a former professional hairdresser, to do what she could. Lex is now quite the trendsetter, rocking retro 40's bangs. And she thinks her new bangs are so very, very pretty, too.

Hey Mister DJ...

Tue, 03 Aug 2010 11:59:00 EDT

So we set out to search for a cheap little record player, and after coming up short upon scouring the local thrift stores, I found a nice one in a fellow Etsian’s vintage shop.

I sometimes decorate with album sleeves, so I already had a few records in my personal stash ready to go for a spin. The girls fell in love as soon as they set the needle and heard the Nonnberg Abbey nuns pondering just how to solve a problem like Maria.

While watching my girls spend all afternoon doing nothing but play record after record, I realized I was wrong to previously assume all proponents of vinyl are old-school purists. I now understand a big appeal of vinyl has little to do with digital vs. analog wars, purer sound quality, or the fact that a turntable and big stack of records in the corner of your living room just looks really, really cool. No, turntables are intriguing because they possess an interactive quality that other media players just don’t have.

Even a three year old can make all sorts of independent discoveries: She turns the volume all the way down and still hears the needle against the record without amplification. She notices the record only plays when it turns. She changes the speed from 33 to 45 rpms and considers the visual and auditory differences. She jumps up and down on the floor and the record skips. She rubs a limited edition Doris Day across the hardwood floor and discovers how she's created irremediable scratches which render the big black circle unplayable.

Especially for a kinesthetic learner, the experience of playing records is gleefully enriching because it goes beyond pressing shuffle, bopping your head to the beat, and singing along. Immersed in the process of solving the mystery of "how does it work" by simple manipulation and observation, you’re no longer just listening to music, you’re PLAYING it.

So this is love...

Wed, 16 Jun 2010 11:20:00 EDT

For better or for worse, I am committed to loving him, no matter how much we may misunderstand and annoy each other and ask "WHAT WAS I THINKING!?! How did WE end up together!?" And by love, I don't just mean staying married out of obligation. I mean an unconditional LOVE that replaces discontentment with peace. Even during our worst arguments, joy exists because I know we are committed to each other and that love is bigger than this obstacle.

I'm not committed for commitment's sake alone. My promise wasn't to simply tolerate this man, no, I promised to become ONE with this fellow child of God. Trusting him as my lifelong teammate, I can say: no matter the consequences, I AM WITH YOU, your joys are my joys and your sorrows are my sorrows.

Of course there are a zillion things I find undeniably amazing about him; my breath catches in awe when I even begin to ponder the immense blessing I have in this man as my partner for life. And of course there are a zillion things I find undeniably annoying about him, too. But neither the positive nor the subjectively negative give me permission to love or not love him. It's BECAUSE I promised to love him wholeheartedly and unconditionally that I've been able to experience just what a beautiful person he truly is, not the other way around. My love keeps growing exponentially, not because of anything in particular I like about him, but because I choose to constantly renew my commitment to him.

I didn't know anything of this love when we got married - I knew we were best friends in the whole wide world, we both drew and sang and played piano, loved The Beatles, were Star Wars and Zelda geeks, and had made individual commitments to Christ. We enjoyed the challenge of each other's completely different perspectives, didn't buy into the idea of putting each other on pedestals of soulmatehood, and decided we were pretty ideal candidates to partner up for life. But it wasn't until we got married, until we made that commitment, that true agape love began and I really began to understand what loving Andy Gaskin meant.

Why do YOU love YOUR spouse? Laying aside all romantic ideals, physical attributes, financial provisions and independent streaks, why have you committed the rest of your earthly existence to this other fallible human? It's not because you're co-dependent, or because you're soulmates, or because they complete you. It's not even an easy choice, so for you, what does it all come down to?

I brake for tax breaks

Tue, 15 Jun 2010 13:14:00 EDT

After a trip to Holmes Cycling, he made a purchase and indeed did bike to work every day. Even in the snow! When doing our taxes that year, I wrote off his cycling expenses (which were a drop in the bucket), and Turbotax kindly alerted me to the fact that if we'd bought a hybrid car, we would have received a substantial tax credit for "going green."

Soooooooo... if we'd created MORE pollution by buying a second vehicle, we would have been able to keep more of our own money, but for REALLY going green and using NO fuel by biking, we had to contribute relatively more funding to our government.

Moral of the story: Our government has designed a tax system which allows its citizens to keep their money ONLY if they've spent it on federally approved purchases first. But not if they have an individual solution that involves hard work.

TAFKAP Charming

Mon, 03 May 2010 14:07:00 EDT

I asked her what was wrong and she just started rambling off this series of statements and questions in her little monotone voice:

"Where is Prince Phillip? There's no princes in here. Prince Phillip loves Aurora. They're friends. I want to make them play together. Where is Aurora's daddy? And Jasmine's Daddy? And Belle's Daddy. I need their daddies to play with."

What do I take from this? A pretty great testament from a three year old for the importance of strong male influences in a little girl's life.

Where moth and rust doth corrupt and climby babies break your favorite vases

Thu, 29 Apr 2010 17:14:00 EDT

As I cleaned up the mess and nursed a cut finger, I had to actively make the choice NOT to fall into that fruitless habit of berating myself for even trying to make a home nice with little kids running about. Instead, I can thank my climby baby for the object lesson on Matthew 6:19-21.

Penelope + toddlerized Swiffer mop = True Love

Mon, 12 Apr 2010 11:50:00 EDT

A standard Swiffer Sweeper comes in four pieces; assemble it without using the middle two pieces and you have a perfectly sized little kid's mop (use three of the four pieces to create a mop for older children)! 18 month old Penelope has recently discovered the joys of the Swiffer and I would estimate she's been spending 60% of her baby days in pursuit of dust bunnies.

Penelope's Birth Story

Mon, 06 Oct 2008 11:25:00 EDT

I had an appointment Wednesday, October 1st, at 1pm to have a routine non-stress test done since my due date was Sunday and they just wanted to make sure all was well. Of course baby girl was just fine. The doctor came in to see me afterward, pronounced me "a good 3.5cm dilated" and stripped my membranes for the third time in 2 weeks. She offered to schedule an induction for Friday, but I told her that as much as I was ready to be done being pregnant, if there wasn't a medical reason to induce; I'd rather just wait and let her be born when she was ready.

I went home, crampy from the stripped membranes, but not hopeful about it turning into anything significant. I went about my normal afternoon activities, getting the girls down for naps, tidying up the house as much as physically possible with a huge uncomfortable belly in the way. By the time Andy came home from work around 6pm, the cramps had turned into mild, yet recognizable contractions. But since I'd been having contractions off and on for weeks, I decided not to get too excited and just wait and see what happened.

We all went to church at 7pm, and right as Bible class was about to start I had an undoubtedly REAL contraction that stopped me in my tracks. Woo hoo! How exciting! I was a little too hyper to sit through class (no offense to Kevin Shaw who was teaching), and wanted to stay upright and walk around to help things progress, so I hung out in the foyer and chatted with a few people. The contractions were a regular 10 minutes apart, and were definitely getting stronger. After class got out, I asked Stephanie if she was available that night to watch the girls, just in case I was really in labor (I was still refusing to get my hopes up). She of course was more than thrilled to be on call for me, and made Sam Deitch her standby in case I needed someone to watch the girls past 6am when Stephanie had to go to work.

Andy was fighting off some kind of illness and when Andy' sick, the best medicine for him comes in the form of Arby's – so we stopped there after church. I decided to forego the grease just in case I'd be having a baby later on (and Arby's isn't really my favorite anyway), so I just had a milkshake. We got home around 8:45 and Ronnie and Andy were asleep in bed before 9:30. I tried for about an hour to cuddle Alexa to sleep – but she was wiggly and I was having some serious contractions – they were about 8 minutes apart, and starting to become extremely uncomfortable. Having a 2 year old climb over you while you're in labor is NOT the most pleasant thing in the world, so I had to wake Andy up to help me out. It was just as well, because I was pretty confident we'd be leaving for the hospital in a little bit anyway. He went ahead and got dressed and put my hospital bag in the car. When my contractions were about 6 minutes apart, I called good ol' Stephanie who had sensibly brought her phone to the poolside with her while swimming at the gym, and she rushed to get ready and come over. I called the hospital to let them know I was coming, kissed my sleeping Veronica and my still wide-awake baby Alexa goodbye and toilfully headed to the car.

The hospital is only a 5 minute drive down the street, but by the time we got there, the contractions were about 2 minutes apart and walking through the parking lot took an excruciating amount of effort. Every few steps brought on a new contraction, and we were a little lost as to how to find the third floor from the emergency room exit (the front doors were already locked for the evening). Luckily, a Good Samaritan in the form of a random nurse going home for the evening offered to escort us to the third floor.

It was about 11:30pm when I made it to triage on the maternity floor, where they assess if you're really in labor or not before they send you to a birthing room. It took me about 10 minutes just to change into a hospital gown, because my contractions were coming one on top of each other. Clearly I was in labor – and starting to transition, even! They checked me – 5cm, good, good. And then they proceeded to take my temperature, blood pressure, and ask me a million ridiculous questions – all of which I had already answered in my paperwork that I'd filled out weeks ago. Wasn't that the whole point of filling those things out early, so I would be able to focus on birthing my sweet baby girl?

Around 12:30am they finally, FINALLY, deemed me ready for a room. I wrapped a blanket around me and focused on doing my best to just make it one foot in front of the other down the hallway. Walking from the triage station to room 317 was terrible. All I could do to cope was lean against Andy or the wall until it passed and then take as many steps as fast as I could for the 30 seconds until the next contraction came. I finally rounded the corner into the room - its dim lights and jacuzzi tub looked very inviting because I knew I was finally going to get to settle down and concentrate on doing what my body needed to do!

However, the doctor on call, Dr. Stegman, had deemed my blood pressure "too high" (It was something like 140/88 – really not that bad for someone in active labor!) and said I needed an IV, or at least a heparin lock just in case my blood pressure spiked. I asked if they could just skip it and let me get in the tub so I could RELAX, please please please.
They said no, they absolutely needed to get the IV needle in. They tried to get me to lay down on the bed, and I simply couldn't do it. The contractions were going nonstop and even though I was trying to remain as calm as possible, I couldn't get my arm in a "proper position" long enough for them to get the needle in. I tried kneeling on the floor with my head on the bed and my arm outstretched over it…I was honestly trying to help them do their work, even though I felt it was absurd and counterproductive, I knew they were just following the doctor's orders. They tried over and over and over to get that needle in, and it just wasn't working. Because I wasn't allowed to get in a comfortable position, the contractions were causing me to be in an overwhelming amount of pain and I absolutely didn't have to be. It was heartbreakingly frustrating because I knew the only reason I was in this much pain was because I simply wasn't allowed to just relax and focus on doing my job! I started to cry and said it wasn't fair – but knew I had to snap out of that unproductive mindset and just do the best with the circumstances I had.

I asked if I could get IN the tub and hold out my arm out and maybe they could get the needle in then because I'd be in a much better position to relax. Hallelujah, the doctor approved of that, and getting in the tub was absolutely wonderful! I changed into my tankini top because it was much more comfortable than that ugly gown and I also couldn't relax unless I was at least halfway modest! The contractions were still powerful and constant, but with the hot water running and the water jets hitting my back and feet, I was able to tune out the nurses who were kneeling on the bathroom floor still attempting to get the heparin lock in my hand. Poor Andy later told me he had to leave the room because he couldn't take watching them poking my arm over and over again. But I was finally in a position where I was in complete control of the pain of the contractions, able to concentrate on the whole point of why I was there – the unbelievably joyful fact that I'd be meeting my precious baby girl soon! At last I was mentally capable to think and pray and even smile and not be concerned with hospital procedures or anything else except bringing this baby girl into the world.

I wasn't in the tub long before I began feeling quite a bit of pressure. "Does it feel like you have to go to the bathroom? Is it rectal pressure? Do you have an urge to push?" they asked. "Yes," I lied. Forgive me, but I just told them what they wanted to hear because I wasn't going to argue with them – I was pretty sure I was either fully dilated or pretty close to it and it was time to get into pushing position. I'd never had an "overwhelming need to push" with either of my other babies, and with this being my third time doing this, I knew my body well enough to be able to follow its lead.

I got out of the tub, and aside from the crazy contractions, I felt like a bit like royalty because I had three nurses gathered around, toweling me off so I wouldn't slip or be cold. I remember saying something in between sounding through my contractions like "you guys are sweet for doing this." They explained that they were just doing their job. I'm sure I sounded a little weird.

Without the comfort of the tub, the contractions came on full strength again, but without the barrage of nurses poking at me, I had gained the ability to completely mentally and physically relax and managed to make it to the bed, falling into whatever position felt right, which ended up being curled up on my right side. I heard the nurses in the background talking about trying to get the heparin lock in, and I looked at my hand and although it was covered with gauze and tape from where they'd stuck me a gazillion times, I realized they still had never managed to get that thing in. Wow. Dr. Stegman made his appearance in the room and told them to just not worry about it anymore as I was about to have the baby anyway. He checked me and sure enough told me I was over 9cm and if I let him break my water, I'd probably go immediately to 10cm and could push any time I wanted. For some reason, I asked him what time it was (again, I'm sure I sounded really weird), and he said 1:15am, and then told him to go ahead and break the amniotic sac.

Dr. Stegman was a calming, grandfatherly figure, and didn't try to overtly manage my labor, but instead asked me what position I wanted to birth in. I told him whatever happened, happened, but preferably on my side so I could relax better and reduce the risk of tearing. He asked very nicely if it was at all possible, if I could get on my left side, because that made things easier for him, but if that wasn't possible, we'd work around it. I found the energy to roll over and made myself comfortable on my left side, probably because he'd asked so nicely. ;)

Knowing that I didn't have to worry about laying still for heparin locks, and armed with the fantastic knowledge that my baby girl would be here pretty soon – I found absolute peace. Of course the contractions were still incredibly painful, but my mind was truly over the matter. I just laid there and concentrated on the task at hand – and held onto Andy's wonderfully comforting, familiar hand that I know so well. Grasping his arm was overwhelmingly soothing – it's amazing how calming the recognizable smell of your favorite laundry detergent in your husband's shirt can be. I about broke his fingers as I squeezed them through contractions, and kissed his hand and was filled with extreme gratefulness to be married to this amazing guy who is exactly what I need in a partner in every way.

I wanted to be truly relaxed and prepared before the REAL work began, so I waited and breathed through a couple of contractions before I decided to push. I was shaking pretty badly at that point, not out of fear or pain, but just because that happens in labor sometimes, it's really nothing alarming. I thought it was a little funny because everyone thought I was really cold, and tried to cover me up. But I knew it was a sign that things were about to be on their way, so I was filled with grateful anticipation!

At the next contraction, I relaxed all my being and focused every bit of my energy on my abdominal muscles and…WOW! I was so surprised how much one push could do! She was definitely in the birth canal and I tried to tell the nurse "She's coming, she's coming!" but I probably sounded like I was speaking in tongues because of the mix of emotions and overwhelming physical sensations going on. I remember trying to imagine what was going on inside of me, and even though I'm pretty experienced at this birth thing, the thought of a real, full-size baby hanging out in there waiting to be pushed out still baffles my mind. God's design is nothing short of amazing.

With the next contraction, she began to crown, and I waited through another contraction to push again, so I wouldn't tear. With the next contraction, the top of her head began to come out…and then I waited for another contraction and….nothing! Another one wouldn't come!!! Except for some extreme burning sensations, I wasn't in any pain and figured my uterus was finished doing its thing. It was a pretty bizarre, surreal moment with everyone standing around quietly, while I was calm with a quarter of a baby head making its way out. Mostly to get to meet my baby girl sooner, but also to cut the awkwardness, I told everyone "I'm not going to wait for another contraction; I'm just going to push anyway." They said okay, I pushed twice, and out she came at 1:34am on October 2nd, 2008! She cried immediately and I was overcome with every positive emotion that exists, elatedly exclaiming "She's here! She's here, she's here, she's here!!!!!"

I cuddled her on my tummy while they waited for the cord to stop pulsating and I just stared in awe. I felt fantastic. Dr. Stegman asked Andy if he wanted to cut the cord, but he declined (he thinks it's a little gross, and I can understand why), and then Dr. Stegman asked me if I wanted to cut the cord. I laughed and said no, but now looking back think I should have said yes - I mean, how many people get to cut their own cord? Oh well.

As soon as the cord was cut, I held that precious little Penelope Drew Gaskin close and Andy took the picture you see above. I tried to nurse her, to help release oxytocin and get the placenta out faster, but she wasn't interested right away. Dr. Stegman asked if he could give me a Pitocin shot in my thigh to get the placenta going, and by that point I was just ready for everything to be over with and be left alone with my sweet baby, so I said sure. The placenta came out and I guess the adrenaline rush exemplifies your personality traits, because the "I'm curious about EVERYTHING" part of me took over and asked to see the placenta, because I'd never gotten to see one before. Dr. Stegman was thrilled to give me the run down and showed me the placenta, the amniotic sac, the cord and its three vessels, etc…I found it absolutely fascinating to see that otherwise yucky blob that sustained my little girl for all those months. Again, God's design just leaves me in awe.

After the placenta was inspected and I was checked out and pronounced healthy, I was left alone with my amazing Andy and my sweet, sweet Penelope! I tried nursing her again and this time she took to it right away. Her eyes were big and observant and I couldn't get over how much she looked like her big sister Veronica. I made the 2am phone calls to Andy's mom, sister, my parents, brother, and sister while Penelope was weighed and measured: 7lbs, 15.6 ounces and 19 inches long. She was just so perfect. I felt fantastic, Penelope was fantastic, so I sent Andy home around 2:30am to be with his big girls.

I still can't believe she's here, and that she's just so healthy and perfect. Why God chose to mercifully bless me with three amazing little girls to guide and raise for His glory is beyond my comprehension – I can't truly express how grateful, humbled, and in AWE I am.

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