tension

I believe all we have is the result of what God has given us. He is the giver of all good things, and the one responsible for all we have. What we have been given is ours to share with those around us. What we have been blessed with, we use as a blessing to others. I believe this with my whole heart.

Then, there is the side of me that really struggles as I watch the the neighborhood kids play rough with our swing set. Take bits of it apart and damage it. I watch them come to our backyard and grab the scooter to ride it without asking. I watch them walk right through our front door without knocking and look at me and say, "I wanted to play with the skateboard." The first thing out of one of the kids mouth on our block is, "Can I have some apple slices or peanuts and raisins?"

It's just take, take, take. Then I am robbed of the blessing of giving. It starts to turn my heart cold and distant because I don't feel seen as a person. Who we are and what we posses gets taken advantage of. What's even harder is I know that this may be the only time this kid gets fruit for the day, and I want to bless him with that, but my attitude has been hard to deal with lately.

It was interesting after the tornado, everyone was taking. Wires down? Take them and get money for it. Metal, copper, fences, wood, you name it, people were coming in to take it and get what they could for it. I understand this place. You have to fight for every thing you have and if you aren't fighting for it, than you will end up without enough. It's a scrappy little world we live in here in N. Mpls. (As I assume it is the same in other places as well.)

At some point only so much can be taken from you until you grow numb to it.

Today while I was preparing dinner, I watched out my back window as this truck pulled up and a gal got out and started digging through my compost bin and garden. She started harvesting my summer squash. I'm not a big one for confrontation, especially in the ghetto, but I had hit my limit of people just taking from me. I had this overwhelming feeling of surprise that someone would be so confident to just take and harvest someone else's garden in broad daylight. Who does that? I was ticked and offended and hurt.

I walked outside.

I repeatedly said Hi as I walked up to this young gal with her mother looking on from the driver's seat. Turns out it was Rachel, a great lady I met who lives down our block. I met her after the tornado and we chatted even more on national night out at our block party. She felt really bad as I greeted them in the alley.

Here Rachel thought she was harvesting our abandoned neighbor's veggies. (which is a little weird since its directly in our yard, but whatever.) Her daughter quickly gave over the summer squash and apologized and then I felt bad for all the things I was thinking and feeling. They didn't want such great food to go to waste, so they were making sure it got used. Rachel looked at me and said, "I hope you never get to the point of needing to harvest strangers yards for food."

Compassion pulled at my heart. I want all we have to be a blessing to others. On the other hand, fruits and veggies are the primary thing my family eats. Growing our garden vegetables is our most economic way of making it work financially. We need that food. And yet, here was someone who was desperate enough to scrounge in a compost bin and garbage almost. I was humbled, and so we shared. We kept a squash, and they took a squash.

I still don't like being taken from. I would wish to give instead.

In the end, the difference is knowing someones story. They most likely function in a different set of rules and guidelines, and we have the opportunity to invite them into ours. A way of love, blessings, and giving.

Mostly I pray that God can resolve the tension in my heart to be one of trust. To trust him enough to let go, to defend when needed, and to give always.

A bit of mourning

I love tradition. Almost to a unhealthy point. The fall starts five months full of wonderful traditions that my family does. (State Fair, apple picking, pumpkin patches, harvesting the garden and canning, Halloween, Thanksgiving, baking bread, Christmas, the first snow, looking at Christmas lights, etc.)

When I am nostalgic and think on these things, all of these strong memories are intimately connected to food. Food is the key ingredient to my memory. The smells. The tastes. The making food in my kitchen with my kids.

My heart is sad today as I think about all the things I can't eat this year.

Catching the Ice cream truck one last time before he's done for the season.

At the State Fair there won't be any Annie's cookies, Cheesecake on a stick, hot dog, lemonade, Carmel apples with ice cream, sugared almonds. The list here could go on and on.

Apple picking always boasts of cinnamon donuts, apple cider, apple crisp, and old fashion licorice.

In the fall I used to bake a batch of fresh bread once a week. It was simply divine. The smell, the taste, the warmth. My mouth is watering now.

Fall also boasts of candy corn with peanuts. Mmmm. I love those.

Fall also brings the best craft shows and with them some really yummy delicious baked goods to enjoy while you shop. It's the only way to do a craft show.

Halloween. We love trick or treating. Enough said.

Bonfires with roasting marshmallows. In our house we have a bonfire almost every weekend once the sun starts going down earlier. We loved roasting marshmallows.

In Nov. I have a tendency to bake all sorts of speciality breads, and warm pies. Thanksgiving wouldn't be the same without pumpkin pie.

The month of December is probably when I bake and cook the most. Christmas cookies, pies, treats, soups, etc. And the candy canes. And Christmas candy.

Wow, looking at all of it written down, it's a lot to give up.

However, when I read what I'm giving up, most of it is donuts, candy, cookies and pie. I can feel my extra 5-10 pounds each Jan that I swear I won't get next year, but always do.

I also understand that there are some of these sweet memories that I can still do, just in a healthier form. Apple crisp with honey and GF oats or GF cookies (maybe not as many varieties, but that's OK). I also understand that there are GFDF breads out there I can make. I think if ever there was a time in our life when giving up all these things, we are in the best time. There are dozens of recipes and websites out there to help those of us who eat different still thrive in our world.

I also have to remember, that my children don't have 32 years of expectations in their hearts and minds. I am the one that thinks, "I've always had pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving." We are able to start our own new traditions and expectations for the different seasons and all they bring.

The last thing I have to remember is that not everyone approaches holidays and seasons like Americana's do. We over indulge and maybe go over the top in regards to decorations, sweets, treats and food that is hard on our bodies and hearts. Most of us feel guilty or know we shouldn't eat half the stuff we do during holidays, just ask your local gym and see how their memberships rise in Jan.

I have the opportunity to create good and healthy traditions for my kids. It will consist of less cookies and maybe popping popcorn to string on the tree. It will consist of having a bowl of nuts and carob covered raisins out instead of candy corn. Its bringing Hot Chocolate while cutting down our tree instead of cookies. It's finding healthier ways to create the memories that I hold so dear. I don't have it all figured out just yet, but I will.

Today with the hint of fall in the air, I started to crave my traditions and all their goodness. Then I remembered, my life is different now. Healthier, happier, with children who posses more joy and self control. That will make these next five months worth it.

I just hope I can make it through the fair. One step at a time I guess. Tearing down old habits and creating better, healthier ones.

And yes, my children will go trick or treating, we have a plan for that, but that's for another day.

worst mom ever!

We joke that middle is our magnet head. He seems to always incur the hurt, scrape, bruise, bloody torment. Rough is his middle name.

What's odd is that he is the only one in our family unscathed at the moment.

Three days ago, middle had an incident with little coming off a bunk bed. Little bit her tongue, and the inside and outside of her lip. There was a brief moment of potential stitches. The bleeding finally ceased and it looked like we were in clear. Two cuts instead of all the way through her lip.

Whew, we got away with that.

Then two days later while the boys were acting as secret agents and were looking for a place to hide, Big was crawling on the floor and smashed his face into the corner of the table. (Guess those table edgers are worth something.) I didn't think it was anything, then I saw the blood seep through his hands. His cry told me it was bad, but when he pulled his hands away and I could see muscle through his skin on his forehead above his eyebrow, I threw up a little in my mouth. He was screaming and we got him cleaned up, called dad, got the kids in the car, said a prayer and got two stitches. Big did amazing! No crying while they stitched him up. He breathed like we taught him to and I was one proud mama. (except for the fact that my other children were dissecting all other medical tools while I was trying to take care of big.)

So now I have a child with a scraped nose and cut lip and one with two stitches above his eye. Tonight we went to Big's family picnic to meet his teacher and other classmates. It was going great. Out on the playground I let little run far from me as she pushed our stroller exploring the area, and as she climbed to heights way past her age, but heights that she has mastered and can control. She is physically far beyond her age and thrives on adventure. Then I lost sight of Big and picked up little to go find him.

I had her in my arms, and then I felt it. I jammed my toe on a lip in the sidewalk and I was falling. I'm crying even as I write this. I watched my daughter fall/fly/or get dropped out of my arms as I fell to the ground. The image of her face breaking her fall will forever remain in my mind.

She flew right to the ground and right on her face. I couldn't breathe. I watched her climb and run and slide and she was safe. Then in my arms where she should be safest, I crushed her face. All I could think was, her nose has to be broken and her teeth missing. My daughters face just broke her fall. I scooped her up and there were cuts, scratches and bruises already forming. Her lip was fat and there was blood there. I picked her up and turned in a circle twice trying to figure out what to do. I sat on a bench and just held her and cried my eyes out.

Yes that was me on my son's first introduction to his school and all his new friends and teachers. His mom dropped his sister on the concrete and cried like a baby. All I could do was cry. The last thing any parent wants is their child hurt, and now I had done the hurting, even by accident.

Two mothers came up to me immediately and comforted me and little, getting the school nurse. They were kind and full of compassion telling me it happens to everyone. I doubt that, but their kindness eased my pain as I held her and tried to ease little's pain.

I don't want to post pictures because there is something in me that tells me that I shouldn't. Little's right side of her face has scrapes and bruises and a fat lip. There are no broken bones or missing teeth. She will heal just nicely and in a few days. Granted I shouldn't take her out in public until then though. People might be suspicious. After about an hour she was back to her more normal self that we were expecting. Big is doing amazing with his stitches and you can't even tell. My toe is fat and swollen and it hurts. Every time I feel it throb, I think, I almost broke my daughters face.

The scrapes and scars will go away, but my heart right now feels very wounded at all the pain that was in my house the last few days.

I guess the Tietjen's aren't safe anywhere right now. Please stay away from us, and when you read this, feel better about the kind of parent you are to your children. For some reason the hospital let us take ours home. Oh dear.

A moment to freeze in time

I had all sorts of plans for the day.

Laundry. Dishes. Bank. Store. Bike ride to the Library. Sewing. Phone calls.

Truly, it was going to be a big day.

But the kids were in a good mood. For the most part they were really getting along. We were all laughing and playing this morning (with a moment or two of learning in frustration). Then when I wanted to leave, the kids just really wanted to go outside and play baseball. They wanted me to pitch to them and play catch.

It's hard to say no when there is no real reason for the rush out the door. There wasn't anything on our schedule today that can't be done tomorrow. So we played.

It was beautiful out this morning. Perfect weather. Sunny with a small chill in the air and the promise of a perfect fall day. The boys and I were playing baseball and having such a wonderful time. They were doing amazing and laughing at their hits and misses.



Lu was pushing her truck all over the yard barefoot. It was quiet except the sound of my kids laughing.



Then the trucks rolled in to pull out stumps along our street. It was exciting and we all stopped what we were doing to watch. While I sat on our sidewalk watching our children my heart just swelled with wanting to make time stand still.



My son starts school in a couple weeks and I am mourning the time we won't have anymore. My children at their small, young ages still want to play with me, have fun, giggle at silly jokes. Our lives are still intertwined and we aren't stretched across the country. I can in small ways still protect my kids from things that scare them. I can make the pain go away. This won't always be the case. Soon I will be watching from the sidelines, that's how it feels. The one thing all parent's agree on is that the time goes by way to fast. I am already starting to feel that pain and sadness of seeing my kids grow to fast before my very eyes.

I know there are so many good things to come and I am excited to know my children as adults, but today...I didn't want today to end. I wanted to hold it. I never want to forget the way my children looked today. How carefree they were. How full of joy they were. Much of the sadness that the world can hold hasn't touched them yet and I was thankful for that. I held two of my children in my lap watching the trucks, the sheer excitement of a backhoe picking up a tree. I could feel their pudgy hands in mine. Squeeze two of my children in one hug. They are still so small and so trusting. It was a wonderful moment. One I hope don't forget.



We didn't accomplish anything on our list today, but we had fun playing all day.

What do you eat?

People often ask me this question when they hear that we don't eat gluten/dairy/soy/sugar/pork. I get it. It takes alot of choices out of what's for dinner or a snack really.

There's part of me that enjoys that. I don't need a thousand options. There are fewer ingredients in my house and that makes it helpful in preparing dinner and more adventurous to figure out a new way to cook something.

I have watched in some people's faces as they hear our restrictions and they feel sorry for us, or they wonder why when only Noah has such a strong response, and Caleb a smaller response that we would all partake in the diet.

The thing is, the more we read and talk with people, we understand the danger for all of us in eating these other things. We are really enjoying the diet. The only struggle comes when all the things that we can't eat are brought to us, offered to us, driving by in the ice cream truck, etc. When we are at home and in charge of our meals, we want for nothing. We eat and are completely satisfied.

Last night we had dear friends over for dinner. We drank wine while we prepared the food.

We had corn chips and homemade guacamole mixed with salsa to munch on. I would have taken a picture if my child hadn't eaten it all. It was delish.



For dinner, our friends brought Steak! What a treat for us! We sauteed garlic, onions and mushrooms in wine to top our steak to replace A1 sauce.



We hit the Farmer's market on Saturday and bought Ground Cherries, then picked mint from our garden and made a watermelon/Cherri/mint salad.



Noah and I also found the smallest red potatoes at the market and decided we liked those best because then we didn't have to cut them up and they were much prettier to eat. We picked oregano from the garden and drizzled Olive Oil over the potato's and added a dash of salt and pepper. So yummy!



We were blessed with Iowa sweet corn from Paul's grandparents and decided to pull that from the freezer and enjoy that along with asparagus drizzled with Olive Oil and pepper.



Our dinner was full of flavor and color and was so simple to prepare. The potatoes and asparagus just baked in the oven and the corn cooked in a pot. The men grilled the steaks and presto! Dinner.

For desert, (sorry I didn't take a photo, we were too excited to eat it!) I bought a wonderful berry juice without sugar, poured it in a bowl, and stuck in the freezer. After a day it was frozen, I dragged my fork and spoon over the top, scooped it out like sorbet and topped it with strawberries. So fresh and tasty. It was cold and filled our treat bank in the tummy. We all have a treat compartment, don't lie to yourself. This filled it perfectly.

After dinner the kids played, then got baths and the adults were able to enjoy great conversation in the quiet of the house.

I noticed after the huge amount of food that we all ate after dinner that I felt satisfied. I didn't feel full and sluggish or felt guilty at all I ate. It was wonderful. It was satisfying and it didn't leave me feeling guilty or tired or wanting to undo my top button of my pants. (I actually wore a dress, so that doesn't count, but still.)

We don't eat this extensive meal every night. But the formula is the same. Paul and I are actually going to nail down our week meal plan tonight. We plan on eating the same thing every week with a few exceptions with what's on sale. This will help us with our budget and my stress of figuring out what to eat. If you are curious, you can check back tomorrow and see what a "Joy Free" diet looks like.

Be forewarned, it is anything but joy free.

***Disclaimer. When I read blogs like the I am posting I often have this image of the family I am reading about. They are all homey, clean clothes, laughing and peaceful in the way they treat each other. I hear garden and I think full and thriving plot of land where the gardener spends hours of her time tending to the needs of the plants. I hear they had friends over and I think their house is clean and orderly.

This is not my life. We threw all our crap in our bedroom so our friends wouldn't see it. My garden, if you can call it that, is mostly hidden under weeds and shingles that have fallen from our roof. My mother did an amazing job helping me at least find most of my plants this weekend and pulled a bunch of weeds. My kids were playing in the water and were drenched when they came to dinner. We ate outside amongst all the neighborhood debris and we have never owned an outside dinner table. Everyone had to hold their plates in their laps and we watched as our children and the neighbor kids fight and decide who they were friends with. It was chaotic but wonderful. Dirty, messy, and wonderful.