The Search for Cash

The awesomeness that is Matthew:

Yesterday we received a knock on the door. It was a lady passing out flyers for her missing dog "Cash." He had been missing over 2 weeks and they really wanted to find him. 

Matthew had been standing in the hallways listening to this lady's plea for help. When she finished he pumped his fist into the air and said "a mission!!! This is a job for MATTHEW!!" 

I smiled at his enthusiasm. We then decided to make it a family mission. 

We all piled into the car and drove around town, having Matthew lead the way. He rolled down his window and yelled for Cash. 

When we got back from driving around town he grabbed a friend and they walked around the neighborhood to look some more.

Unfortunately he never did find the dog.

Upon further inspection of the flyer we saw that there was a $200 reward for the safe return of the dog. 

Matt asked Matthew what he would do with all that money. His response: "I would give it to you." 

He knows that things have been tough financially. 

But seeing him so excited to help someone he had never even met before makes me proud beyond words. 

Conversations with a 3 year old

While getting out of the tub, David hears the water draining.
"Mommy! It's burping!! (moment of stunned silence) Oh, it says 'Excuse Me.' "

While I was getting him dressed after his bath.
"Mommy I naked boy!"
(in his best superhero voice) "Naked Boy!"

This little exchange happened the other day.
"Mommy, you're awesome."
"Thank you David."
"You're welcome Mommy."

"I like the skelly goat."
After a few seconds of mental confusion I realized what he was talking about. A telescope.


While sitting on my lap with his head on my shoulder and rocking us back and forth.
"Rocky a baby, in the tree."
Looks up at me and whispers...
"Close your eyes Mommy. Go to sleep."

How am I doing?

Everyone keeps asking me "How are you doing?" I think this is really sweet, but I don't always want to give the full, drawn-out explanation. So mostly, I just say "I'm fine, thank you."

There is truth to that. I am fine. Just not all the time. A lot happened last week, including the miscarriage.

Matt's Aunt Christina passed away suddenly at the young age of 42. His Grandfather also had a stroke, but thankfully seems to be doing well.

The passing of Aunt Christina just about knocked me off my feet. It was just a few months ago we were visiting and were all piled on her bed with 2 of her 3 kids talking and laughing while Matt fixed her computer.

So I'm dealing with a lot of grief.

Today doesn't seem to be one of my good days. I'm weepy and cranky.

I just need to keep reminding myself that I'm having a bad day, not a bad life.

So, I am fine. But then again, I'm not.

I'm still healing from my miscarriage. I didn't think it would take this long. I always thought you had a miscarriage and then that was it. A one day thing. But it was a week on Sunday and I'm still feeling the effects of it. Ibuprofen helps. So does lots and lots of candy.

Thank goodness for Halloween.

Miscarriage

The following post is slightly graphic. 

Writing is sometimes therapeutic for me. I'm going to talk about something that is very hard for me to verbally say but I want everyone to know. Mostly so there are no awkward conversations. One day I will be able to talk about it. Maybe even in the next couple of days. But right now, every time I utter the word Miscarriage, my heart aches and the tears flow openly.

I had a miscarriage.

Sunday morning the boys and I went to church. Matt stayed home because he is working the night shift and so sleeps during the day. I was still on my new pregnancy high. 7 weeks pregnant, the baby was the size of a blueberry. That was our little nickname for it.

During church services I noticed I was cramping a little. My back was sore also. I just shrugged it off, thinking maybe I was being a little bit of a sissy. I had been spotting the week before and even went and had an ultrasound done. I saw the teeny heartbeat. I'll always remember that teeny little heartbeat. But according to my doctor, everything looked fine.

Spotting is normal as long as it's not bright red and there are no clots. So I just kept an eye on the spotting and slowed my activities way down. No lifting and lots of laying down to read.

Sunday afternoon we were invited over to a friends house for their daughters First Birthday. I arrived at 4pm, played with the baby. Watch David be crazy and silly per usual. I even received some congratulations for my pregnancy and showed off my ultrasound which showed a little blur for a baby. Even at that point I just wasn't feeling right. Call it intuition. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

At one point I went to the bathroom. It was then that I noticed my underwear was soaked with blood, amongst other things. I was devastated.

Matthew came to the door just as I was getting ready to leave. "Mom? Are you ok?" I opened the door, let him and start crying. I manage to say "I lost the baby." He immediately tears up and wraps his arms around me. I love that kid so much.

I then realized I was going to have to walk through a whole crowd of  people to get to the front door while still crying freely. I made it to the kitchen where my friend Beka was preparing food for the party. I managed to sputter out that I had to leave because I just had a miscarriage. She gave me a big hug (hugs really help) and offered to take the boys home later, I agreed and ran out of the door, desperate to get home to my husband.

I get home, wake Matt and we go to the ER. Mostly because I didn't know what to do in a situation like this. I'd never had a miscarriage. After a 4 hour wait, blood work, and an ultrasound, it is determined that this indeed is a miscarriage.

I had pretty much prepared myself for that outcome, but to hear those words come out of the doctors mouth broke that teeny tiny string of hope I had left. We cried and then I told Matt I just want to go get something to eat.

So he fed me, he hugged me, he even rubbed lotion on my legs because they were dry. He has been my rock through all of this. I am so thankful that he is mine and I am his.

I will say that even though this has happened and I am sad about it:
I will not let it define my life or who I am.
I am not broken.
I will be happy, although just not right now.
I will recover.
We will try again.
We love Matthew and David so much. We are eternally grateful to have them as our children.

Silly boys and a BIG surprise!!

Things have been kind of crazy here at the Shoemaker Homestead.

Winter is closing in fast so I've been trying to relish in the last warm days of Fall. 

Last week it was so warm we decided to grab some blankets and soak up some sun. It was just what we needed. 

A few days later Matthew took it upon himself to rake some leaves in the backyard. He then led his little brother out there and they jumped and played. It's days like that that get me through the days when they aren't getting along so well. 

Matthew as the leaf monster!!

 David attempted to be a headless leaf monster also but then quickly decided the itchy leaves were no fun to lay in.

A few nights ago Matt was off working the night shift at Energizer so it was just the boys and I. We went upstairs early that night. (Morning sickness has been kicking my behind and all I want to do is curl up in a bed with a good book.) 

So there I sat in my bed while the boys played. At one point they came in like this:

 Then Matthew had the brilliant idea of grabbing my sweater to put around David.

 Oh, these boys always know how to make me smile. 

In other news we found out that I AM PREGNANT!!!

I'll know more about when my due date is when I go to the doctor but we're estimating at late May/early June.

We couldn't be more thrilled. Everyone keeps asking if we hope it's a girl. Of course we'll take whatever is given to us. A girl would be different, but if it's a boy then at least we'll know what to do with it! Hahaha!

Stop Motion Animation

Matthew made his first stop-motion animation a few years ago to stave off boredom. 

He loves doing it and created another one just the other day with his friend Aurora. That one supposedly features a Transformers toy, but I have yet to see it.

He always astonishes me with his creativity.

 I hope he never gives up on it.   

Donut Heaven

About a week ago someone in my little family suggested making homemade yeast donuts. I don't remember who it was, maybe my dear husband who is well known for his massive sweet tooth. Either way the thought of  homemade yeast donuts  instantly had us all drooling. Matthew signed up to be my side kick in the donut making process. He was instantly ready to get in there. He even went and washed his hands without having to be ask. (he's getting so big! *sniff*)

I had never made donuts, much less yeast donuts.  I may be kind of weird, but I can't stand anyone (mostly my children who demand attention) in the kitchen when I'm trying a recipe for the first time. I just need to be able to concentrate so that I don't waste food if I botch it up. There's a lot of pressure there. I never like throwing away food. Even though we now give the veggie scraps to the chickens and the meat scraps to the dog. But those scraps aren't nourishing my family...so yeah, pressure.

Attempt #1 you're supposed to heat up the milk, sugar and butter on the stove until the butter melts. Well I didn't consider that the milk mixture would get screaming hot and kill the yeast when I poured it in there. That was a flop. Didn't rise one little bit. 

Attempt #2 heated up  the milk mixture and then let it cool for about 5-10 minutes. I also made sure to watch it so it didn't get as hot as it did last time. 

Nope, that didn't help either. The yeast died and I was left with dough that was hard as a rock. I wanted to throw it at someone!! But I didn't, I simply threw it in the compost pile. 

After the second attempt I decided to do some research. Matt was concerned that my yeast was old and that's why it wasn't rising. So I checked online and found a little experiment

Take couple of teaspoons of yeast and sugar and add them to a glass of lukewarm water, Let sit for about 5 minutes. If it starts to foam then you know your yeast is good!! If not, well then it's time to restock.

I also found out that the milk mixture needs to be between 80-90 degrees Fahrenheit.

Attempt #3 I took my newly discovered information and put it to the test. I dug out my candy thermometer and put together the milk mixture. I was shocked to discover that it took almost a half an hour to cool down to 90 F after getting everything melted. I just wasn't expecting that. 

Matthew then joined me in the kitchen. I felt pretty confident it was going to work this time. David was not allowed in the kitchen at that time because he becomes very needy and demanding. (I want a drink! No milk! I want water......umm, no. I want milk!) It's a bit tiring. Luckily Matt was home and swooped in to distract David with toys and good ol' rough-housing.   

Matthew and I measured and mixed. Then the hardest part. THE WAITING!!

(Would it rise!?! Would it fail?? Only time would tell!?!)

We waited an excruciating 60 minutes. I tried not to go into the kitchen during that time. And if I did, I did not make eye contact with the covered bowl sitting on the counter. 

The timer dinged (Matthew practically informed the entire neighborhood) 

SUCCESS!! THE DOUGH HAD RISEN!!

I won't bore you with the rest of the cooking process.

 We fried them up and topped with warm chocolate frosting. Oh yeah, they were divine!!

Matthew had just polished off his second donut when he practically floated into the kitchen proclaiming "I think I'm in Donut Heaven!"

Once I figured out all that I was doing wrong, they didn't take too long to make.

It looks like we may have the start of a family tradition on our hands. I can handle that.