Apple Sauce

The wonderful part of starting our own family, is starting our own family traditions. With Autumn being my favorite time of year, my favorite new tradition takes place during these crisp, cozy months.
It all begins when Tad comes home with a beautiful arrangement of flowers a decadent box of chocolates a bushel of apples.

Yes, I said apples.

But not just any apples.
Empire apples.
Mahogany red, crunchy, sweet, aromatic Empire apples.
I eagerly rinse each piece of fruit, and lay them all out on a towel to dry. A few apples always seem to go missing before being quartered and sliced.

It takes me three pots to keep the apples simmering until soft. In the end, I have just two pots of the soft, pink perfume.

Tad then sets up the strainer, as I call Annabelle into the kitchen to help. Her golden locks bounce behind her, as she sings and skips into the kitchen.
It's apple sauce time.
Apple soup goes in the plastic white funnel to be turned and pressed through the mesh holes, and down the aluminum slide.
Apple sauce.
Bright pink, and still warm from the stove-top, the sauce is now scooped into individual bowls for each of us to enjoy the sweet goodness that is homemade apple sauce.

We have plenty to freeze for later, but it never lasts very long before being consumed.

On The Move

I haven't made time for writing these past few weeks, so I thought I would give a little Hazel update.
She's crawling!

Sort of. It's more like an Army crawl, bear crawl combo. I honestly didn't believe it when I first saw it. I thought it was a fluke. There's no way my baby is crawling already at 8 months!
Sure enough, as the days passed, it became more evident that my little Hazelnut is indeed mobile. I love watching her get up on hands and feet, rocking herself back and forth, finally pushing her little body forward for the toy that is just out of reach. She squirms the right side of her body forward, the the left, and right again. Nothing is safe anymore. Once she reaches her desired toy, she grabs hold of it, and effortlessly flips to her back, bringing the treasure in for a taste.

Just three months ago, she was barely holding her head up. She would only roll over when her neck became wearie, and her head flopped over to one side.
Just one month ago, she was laying on her tummy, bringing one arm out from under her (being supported only by her other arm) to reach for toys.
And now this.
Hazel is a very determined little girl, and I am so proud of her hard work.
Sunday night, she spied a standing toy that she wanted to play with at church. My heart broke a little as I thought she wouldn't be able to play with it.
But she didn't know that.
She wriggled her little self across the room to the toy. There was a spinning rattle piece with colorful beads that was so inviting to her.

She moved closer and closer, until she was almost under the toy.
She reached one arm up, then the switched to the other.
Stretching as much as her elbows would allow, she finally got it!
She laid there, spinning the rattle, watching the colorful beads dance around.
Never underestimate your children.
Never doubt what they are able to do.
Sometimes, it's best to sit back and watch. Let them figure it out.
Hazel is very determined to do whatever she wants.
And Hazel is little and loving it!
P.S. Be sure to check out the Facebook Page for more photos and videos!

Why I Write

When I was in first grade, I misspelled my first word on a spelling test. Dinosaur. I had never misspelled a word on a test before, and rarely have I misspelled a word on a test since that moment.
When I was in third grade, I was given a free-writing assignment. I chose to write about a recent dream I had. I remember becoming so engrossed in the assignment, that the time allotted was not sufficient for me to finish my story.
In tenth grade, I loved vocabulary assignments. I loved learning new words, and writing elaborate, poetic sentences on the white board.
Writing has always been a passion of mine.
But as I got older - and busier - I stopped making time to write. I also felt like I had nothing to write about. I read other blogs and thought, "I'm not an expert at anything. Nobody will want to read my blog."
Because, let's face it, I actually want people to read what I write.
Any other blog I've read is written by experts. Expert photographers. Expert designers. Expert chefs. Expert home organizers. I'm not an expert in any of those areas.
I was facing major writer's block.
Then we were blessed with Hazel.
I realized that my area of expertise is my own home. My own children.
Raising a child with a developmental difference can be stressful at times. Hazel came with her own bag of parental concerns. Is she holding her head up steadily enough? Should she be as physically active as she is? Is her back okay? When was the last time I checked her soft spot? When is her next checkup? Can this concern wait until we see the doctor next? Is that a concern for her pediatrician? Geneticist? Orthopedist? And the list goes on.
In this whirlwind of confusion, I have been blessed by other Mom bloggers who have been where I am now. I have become part of a wonderful community of parents who are going through the same struggles (and joys!).
Social media has been a helpful tool for myself and my family through these past months.
Writing has become an outlet for myself, as well as an educational tool for others (I hope!).
I don't have all the answers. I don't know everything there is to know about raising a child with achondroplasia. But I am learning.
God blessed me with a special little girl for a special purpose. And I'm not about to sit back, and let my gift go to waste.
Through this blog, I hope to educate, bless, and connect.
I am not an expert photographer, designer, chef, or home organizer. (That last one makes me laugh!)
But I am an expert at being Mommy to Annabelle and Hazel.
And that is a good enough reason to write.
Thank you all for joining my journey, and I hope you always leave blessed.

Here's just a fun little picture of me with my girls on Cow Appreciation Day.

The Power Of A Smile

Summer is my busiest time of the year. Since Annabelle was a baby, I have babysat through the Summer months. Having children in the home who are in different age groups can be a challenge. This Summer has been no exception. This week has been no exception. This is the first year that I have three different age groups in my home: Hazel, being a very needy infant; Annabelle, being an independent pre-schooler; and this year, Gretchen (name has been changed for protection, since she is not my child). Gretchen is 6 years old, so that gives me my third age-group. School-aged.

So we have three very different sets of needs, schedules, and interests.

We have managed so far with walks, visits to parks, and reading books from the library.

This week, Gretchen has been at day camp!

Great. I will be loaded up, and out of the house by 9am every day, ready to run my errands. Then I can come home for swimming, lunch, and naps.

Hah!

Who was I kidding? It's been more like: running out to the van, racing against the clock, breakfast half-eaten and shoved in my bag, jamming more into my morning than I accomplish in an average week, late lunch, and fighting an over-tired pre-schooler down for her afternoon nap, praying she doesn't wake the sleeping infant in the next room.

Three days in, and three out of four of us simultaneously ran out of steam.

I struggled to get out of bed by 7:15, Annabelle struggled to follow simple directions, and Gretchen struggled to get excited for camp.

We talked in the van about how much fun she would have with all of her friends, but I wasn't getting anywhere with either of the two girls.

If I didn't figure something out fast, we were in for a long, grumpy day.

So I did what any Mom would do in this situation.

I cranked up the radio, and danced like a fool at a stoplight. I I think I embarrassed the girls, as they begged me to stop.

"I'm not stopping until you both give me a great big smile!"

Finally, they cracked. Big, bright smiles crossed their faces, as they started to giggle.

Then Annabelle said something insightful.

"Smiling makes me happy."

Wow.

So simple, and so true.

Smiling makes me happy.

If we would all wake up, and greet the sun with a smile, our mornings would go much more smoothly.

I held onto those words for the rest of our day, as we smiled through a near-empty gas tank, late lunch, and rough nap routine.

We all need to smile more.

Because smiling makes you happy.

Children can be out best philosophers, as they have the freshest, most innocent view of their world. They don't add caveats to their thoughts, or complicate them in feeble attempts to be poetic. They are just straight-forward and simple.

Smiling makes me happy.

Though she be but little...

She is fierce!
When friends hear about Hazel's achondroplasia, I get a variety of reactions - from curiosity, to sorrow, and everything in between. I know it's only natural to  feel sorry. But you don't have to. In fact, I implore you not to feel sorry. To feel sorry for her, is to suggest that something is wrong with her. I want to tell you this: nothing is wrong with Hazel. Her bones just grow differently than yours or mine. She is not sick. She is not in pain. She will do wonderful things. And guess what? She will also fail in life. Because she is human.
When we got the official word of Hazel's diagnosis, we were not in shock. We were not in denial. We had already done our research, and come to the conclusion on our own, that she probably had a form of dwarfism, and it was most likely achondroplasia. But that's not to say that we never felt the emotions any parent goes through when hearing such news. We were lucky enough to go through the emotions in the weeks leading up to her diagnosis.
The most prominent stage I went through was denial. I had the "this kind of stuff only happens to other people" thoughts. I even felt crazy for thinking my child had achondroplasia. I tried convincing myself that she was just short, and would eventually even out. When I looked at pictures of her big sister, Annabelle as a newborn, I thought Annabelle looked different. Not Hazel. Annabelle was long and thin, with skinny little arms and legs, and long fingers. But Annabelle looked more like other babies. Hazel has always been more plump, with short limbs.
But I never felt soul-crushing sorrow, because I know these two truths: God made Hazel; and God doesn't make mistakes. Psalm 139:13-18 tells us this:

¹³ For You formed my inward parts;
You wove me in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth;
¹⁶ Your eyes have seen my unformed substance;
And in Your book were all written
The days that were ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them.

¹⁷ How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
¹⁸ If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand.
When I awake, I am still with You.

Wow! That passage is filled with such beautiful truths. I pray that both of my girls cling to these truths, and hold onto the promises of God.
I know that when God created Hazel, and chose to make her different, he did so for a purpose. I am so excited to see what that purpose will be.
But for now, I just know that Hazel it little and loving it.