New Mom

Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookie Cake

Posted by cassiegay on March 2, 2015 Leave a Comment

Like most men, my husband’s favorite thing is chocolate and peanut butter. When baby was napping the other day, I decided to build my chocolate peanut butter dessert repertoire and try something new. So I made up a recipe. I made it a cookie cake for two reasons: 1. Cookie cake is my go to thing. 2. It’s way easier to make a giant cookie than roll individual cookies. Mamas only have so much time….

In short, hubby loved it. I loved it. Baby slept through me making it. #naptimechefwin

Ingredients:

1 c butter
1 c brown sugar
1 c sugar
2 eggs
1 t vanilla
1 c Peanut Butter
2 3/4 c Flour
2 t Baking soda
1/2 t Salt
2 c semisweet chocolate chips
15 or so miniature Reese’s (chopped)

Directions

1. In a separate bowl, mix together dry ingredients. Set aside.

2. In your mixer, cream butter and sugars (brown and granulated sugar).

3. Add eggs and vanilla

4. Add peanut butter.

5. Gradually add dry ingredients, stirring in between. Do it all at once, and it will snow in your kitchen. No Mama has time for that.

6. Stir in chocolate chips and chopped Reese’s cups. The batter should look like the picture below. ~~Don’t~~ taste it. You might end up stopping right there. It’s that good.

7. Put the dough in your favorite pie dish (pack it in by hand, making sure it is tight and level). Bake at 350 degrees for 20-27 minutes. Yes, that is a big range with a large margin of error. Trust your baking instincts. Once you see the edges browning and the middle is not wobbly/squishy, you are good. It will darken a little bit after you take it out.

7. Enjoy! Notice how thick the slices are….it is heavenly. Go ahead and pour yourself some milk.

Comfort for the Working Mom who Longs to be Home

Posted by admin on January 7, 2015 Leave a Comment

Dear Working Mom,

Before I had my first baby, I thought I knew you. You showed me that working would suit our family. Like you, we needed the income. Also, ~~many of you~~ my co-workers (without children) said that it helped to have some time to socialize with adults, that the time away would make me better somehow. I knew I could do it; you do it, I reasoned.

Then, I had “skin to skin” time, holding my child, my miracle in my arms for the first time. You know the moment. I was overwhelmed by an indescribable love, a simultaneous desire not to hold too tightly because he seemed so small, so precious and to hold on with all of my strength so that he would know he was home- he was safe, treasured, and loved. Fiercely loved.

During that first day, you know how the pangs of leaving him started to literally cause an ache in my heart. “Oh, I have 6 weeks…3 weeks…1 week,” I would whisper to myself, pushing away the unavoidable reality. Before I knew it, it was my last night, and I fought it with everything in me. I did not want to pack his bag. I wouldn’t go to sleep because I didn’t want the morning to come. I just rocked and rocked my sleeping baby, memorizing the sweet lines of his face. Oh, did the tears pour all night, all morning, when I kissed him goodbye, on my hour commute to work. I was in mourning, it seemed. Mourning the missed moments, the missed smiles, the missed coos, the missed cuddles, the missed firsts, and even the missed messes.

When I walked in to work, I was greeted with smiles and meaningless conversations. I felt like someone in a dream visiting a world that was familiar but not where I belonged. The worst part were the comments, you know the ones. “I bet you are glad to get out of the house” and “women shouldn’t find their identity in motherhood. They should have a career”.

You and I craved understanding. We needed someone to know that we adore being a stay-at-home mom, and that it is enough. That is it more than enough-that it is something to long for, to miss, and to mourn. It is worthy of a calling. For the moms who are able to stay home, we know it is not something to feel “less” about. You are not “just a stay-at-home mom.”

For you, the working mommas waiting to be at home with your children, I now understand. I apologize I did not acknowledge your hidden hurt and needless guilt you carry, believing the lies that you chose a career over your child. I know your pain, and it matters. I marvel at the strength you display to prepare the meals and pack the bags for a day of activities that will be done in your absence. I admire the courage you display to trust someone else to be with your baby, to comfort, to care, to teach, as we covet those opportunities.

You are not alone in your longing, in your waiting. There are several, goosebump-inducing moments in the Bible where all seems hopeless and helpless “but God” comes, the Deliverer, the Sustainer, the Comforter of His people. In Psalm 73:26, we hear, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is my strength and my portion forever.” For those of us feeling hopeless in this season, He whispers to you that He is here. Feeling weak? He shouts to you that He is here. Feeling alone? He comforts you by being here. He more than understands the pain of separation from a child, and He longs to heal our wounds.

What-Not-to-Say to the Pregnant Mama

Posted by admin on January 5, 2015 Leave a Comment

Ever heard the phrase that it takes 10 compliments to overcome the sting of 1 insult? For pregnant women, I think it should be double that. When you are visibly pregnant, it is a rare thing to be able to leave the house without unwanted, sometimes insulting comments. Surprisingly, women (who have been pregnant before) usually are the ones making said comments. I always struggled with my response, sticking with a slow “thank you” that sounded more like a question than a statement.

Here is my top 5 list of “compliments” to avoid telling a pregnant woman:

1. “You don’t look pregnant at all. Are you sure there is a baby in there?”

Goal: Okay, most likely, you are attempting to make me feel skinny.

Reality: You just sent me on a Google Images search frenzy so that I can compare my bump (or lack thereof) to other women, making sure something isn’t wrong with my baby.

2. “You’re huge!” (Yes, someone actually emphatically used the word huge with me.)

Goal: I am at a loss on this one. Maybe you were trying to tell me I’m doing a good job growing a baby?

Reality: Is it ever good to comment on how large someone is? This should never be acceptable. No one likes being told they are “huge, big, or large”.

3. “Wow, are you sure it isn’t twins?”

Goal: Again, I have no idea. Maybe genuine concern that I should see another doctor?

Reality: I get it. I. am. Big. Because of the 8 other comments of similar concern, I asked. The ultrasound tech and doctors have said that it is one on multiple occasions, thanks.

4. “When are you due? Oh, June. You are going to be miserable being that pregnant in the summer.”

Goal: Spreading your dislike for summer to a random stranger.

Reality: I forgot I should have run this by you for approval. What was your name again?

5. “You look like you are ready to pop any day now! Oh, REALLY? You are only 4 MONTHS along? Are you sure?”

Goal: Encouragement that the end is in sight and you soon get to hold your baby.

Reality: Again, thanks for the reminder of my size. Trust me, I am sure. I am the one that is pregnant.

I think it is a beautiful thing that pregnancy opens up so many conversations with strangers, providing a random opportunity to encourage someone. You should compliment! But, please, do it like you would with any other woman who isn’t pregnant (skip the size comments).

My favorite thing someone said to me was from the checkout lady at Petco. I ungracefully waddled up to her counter. She gave me a warm smile, exclaiming “You are absolutely glowing! You look beautiful.” That made my day and ~~maybe~~ just made up for the other, not so complimentary statements I got breathlessly waddling around the store.

How to Tell Your Husband You are Pregnant

Posted by admin on January 3, 2015 Leave a Comment

For me, this was an unexpected but deeply desired journey. I hesitated to take a test for weeks simply because I did not want the disappointment. One day, I got sick at work (which pre-pregnancy was highly unusual) and decided I would buy a test. After circling the parking lot a few times, cautiously entering the store, and springing for the digital test (mainly because I had a coupon), I gave myself a non-stop pep talk from the drugstore to the house. I decided I would take the test and no one but the dog would hear about my silly speculation.

Much to my surprise, the test instantly revealed that I was pregnant. It was one of the most exciting, joyous moments of my life.

My next thought…how do I tell my husband? I am the sentimental, over-analyzing one of our relationship. I basically reasoned that this would be the most important thing I have ever told him. Plus, you only tell your husband you are pregnant with the child who is making him a Daddy once. It had to be memorable. It had to be perfect. It had to be worthy of its life-altering implications.

Naturally, I took to Pinterest. For those of you who think that is weird, go to Pinterest. Start typing “how to tell”. What comes up first? “How to tell your husband you are pregnant.” This is a real thing.

Pinterest failed me. Writing “I’m pregnant” with lipstick on my stomach or putting a loaf of bread in the oven (how am I supposed to get him to look in the oven randomly?) didn’t fit us. I decided to buy him some kind of baby item that referenced his new role as Daddy. It was there, at Babies R’ Us, where I was finally (I mean, it had been over a couple hours at this point) able to tell someone I was pregnant. The cashier started squealing and fanning her eyes when I told her my plan. I figured that made her the ideal, sappy candidate and enlisted her help to find the perfect gift. We looked everywhere and decided on this:

Click here to buy this bib on Amazon.

After what felt like the longest night ever, I finally got home. I walked in, tried my best to chitchat, and then nonchalantly said, “I got you a gift.”

For those of you who know my husband, he is not outwardly emotionally expressive. From his non-reaction, you would think I came home bearing gifts every day. Not the case. He opened it, held up the bib, and looked blankly at me, basically an unwritten “So?” on his face. Then, my very nervous self, was taken over by a high-pitched chipmunk voice, “We are having a baby!”

Surprisingly, my husband’s voice also got higher than usual, “What?!? Really?!? No, really???” I kept nodding. He swept me up in the biggest hug, still repeating, not actually asking, “really”. It worked. I was able to keep that secret (the dog and the cashier totally don’t count) about 8 hours. It nearly killed me.

Things I learned from my experience:

There is little product that mentions dad without reference to a gender. Example: Daddy’s Princess, Daddy’s Little Man, etc.
Pinterest is not a waste of time. But, in this case, it was.
As usual, my over-analyzing mind got the best of me. It didn’t matter how I told the news. I could have blurted it out at lunch earlier that day, and it would have been just as special.