a weekend at the cabin

we spent the past weekend up the hill at a friends cabin. it was both scott and liza's first time staying at a cabin, and their first time in camp nelson! it was a great weekend; full of cards, sewing, walks, and giggles from a cute little babe. i ate five square meals, in a row AND with two hands. the wonder of grandparents! i didn't capture a picture of the moment, but i achieved a lifelong dream and ate an entire fried egg for the first time. they have always looked so delicious to me, and i've wanted so badly for so long to like them. however every time i took a bite my dreams shattered and it tasted, well, disgusting. but not this time! i'll admit it was not the absolute tastiest, but it was the best it had ever tasted so i ran with it. and now, some pictures!

i ordered some fabric so that i could sew over the weekend but it didn't come in time. but just as well, i can make leggings another time! but this...

...i couldn't miss those giggles. the crazy eyes, maybe. the giggles, no. 

the $15 yard sale steal. thanks, mom!

liza's first offroading!

at the end of our walk wee met the sweetest burrows. they were all about having their picture taken.

i can't wait to see how little vacations like this grow and change over the years. my favorite part about this one was liza's need to be snuggled up on me to sleep. i know that will eventually leave and she won't need my familiarity in an unknown place, so i soaked it up in all it's deliciousness. i mean. seriously. this girl.

be still my heart. i love you, elizabeth james.

a crying baby

word on the street is, naps are bad. at least this seems to be how my six month old feels. she screams {and i mean scream, not cry} at the top of her lungs whenever it comes time for this event. it's not just in the crib; it's in mama's bed too, or while being rocked, and in her swing, or with mama IN the crib. most days i just park it with her in the rocker, and hope that the crying will last a little shorter than the day before. my patience has grown to astronomical levels, while my heart has broken a thousand times over at the little pout her lips make. 

for some reason today seemed to be extra trying, and on the verge of tears myself i kept thinking, "i can't wait til you like to sleep. and can you be a genius baby that talks at seven months so you can tell me what's wrong?". but then it hit me: someday she's not going to be crying, she's going to be able to tell me exactly what i'm doing wrong, and then elaborate on it. she's not going to love seeing my face so much that she wants to stay awake instead of sleep. she's going to be running off to friends' houses and coming home to tell me how cool her friend's mom is, while asking me what on earth i'm wearing and letting me know how i could make it better. suddenly i was thankful for her inability to talk, i was warmed at the thought of her loving my presence so much she can't miss it for a second. and then, i gave in to the crying. she's growing so fast. i'm only going to be the coolest person for so long. and she's only a baby for an even shorter time. some days the fact that she doesn't want to nap make it feel like i'm failing. thankfully it's those days she decides to look me in the eyes and smile with hers. somehow once she does it i can't remember what her cry sounds like. 

we're not failing, mamas. just ask your baby.

real talk.

this is what my kitchen look like at the moment. and most likely for the next handful of moments as well. 

i love reading blogs. seeing how other people express themselves fascinates me; in words, clothes, food, crafts, design, etc. however i often find myself thinking "they eat like kings and queens every.single.night!" or "this woman must not own yoga pants, or perhaps she only uses them in the 'yoga' sense". but i don't think gourmet, from scratch is on the menu every night, and i'm positive every woman on earth wears yoga pants without yoga-ing in them. not that the world would ever know, and not that there is a problem in that. i realize that i have posted multiple pictures of my perfectly fluffed couches and pristine kitchen. after all, who wants to see pictures of dirty kitchens like above? but here's the deal:

my kitchen is full of dishes 90% of the time. and not because i cook every night, but because i cook every three nights and they simply sit there between the appearances of chef sophie. 

and that's the truth.

and just for laughs...

yes, this really truly happened this morning. the jacket was also on and i had to wiggle out to go pop the trunk. happy monday!

the donuts to end all other donuts.

i've made donuts at least a dozen times. not from scratch, no. the gloriously easy and equally delicious ones from grands biscuits. i think the fact that they are so easy makes them all the more delicious, and made in our house that much more often. but today when i woke up, after what was probably the longest night of sleep fighting ever {the baby, not me}, i decided to kick it up a notch. because i didn't want donuts, i wanted donuts covered in a glistening, mouth watering, chocolate glaze. if i hadn't earned them the night before i don't know that i ever would.

here's what you'll need:

 canola oil, grands buttermilk biscuits {i used the mini biscuits because that's what we had on hand, and because there's a lot less guilt when you eat the whole batch}, whipping cream, butter, powdered sugar, and chocolate chips.

{not pictured--vanilla extract}

///

begin by cutting holes is all your biscuits. i don't have any fancy means of doing this, i use a jumbo frosting tip! 

voila!

 pour some oil in a skillet and throw in a couple tablespoons of butter. because, it's butter and these don't stand a chance at resembling healthy. 

 test the heat with a couple of your donut holes. they should fluff up nicely when dropped in.

 next the big guys. don't they look so golden and buttery?

and while these beauties sit, we'll make the glaze!

start with 1/4c of whipping cream heating on the stove. i'm told this can also be done in the microwave but i have yet do accomplish the take without making an overflowing mess.

1/4c chocolate chips in the food processor.

when the cream is heated pour over chocolate chips. let sit just long enough to snap a picture.

blend. and boom! chocolate ganache. 

pour into a bowl that you can fit your hand into, as this is where you'll be dunking the donuts.

sift some powdered sugar into your chocolate. i'm guessing i did about a cup.

whisk. taste. this is where i decided a little vanilla was needed.

dunk donut into glaze. wiggle around.

repeat.

admire their sheen. soon the plate will be empty. 

pour yourself a cold glass of millk, and go to town.

please note that husbands appreciate when you save them more than one. i have learned this the hard way. also learned--a chubby baby hand makes any picture cuter.

happy saturday!

on growing teeth and matching leggings

 yesterday, sometime between the first nap that little miss fought off with the most unwavering of gustos, and the time she rested her sweet little head against me to fall asleep, her second tooth arrived. the first one cut through last thursday so we were hoping this one would make its appearance soon as well. i don't know if it's been the teething or not, but for about a week or so now liza has decided she wants to sleep on my chest again. and can i tell you, it's even more amazing and heart-melting than before. i never missed a chance to snuggle my naked little newborn on my chest, and when she stopped wanting to sleep like that it broke my heart that she was out of that stage. but this, this is her sleepy little brown eyes finding my face, blinking that heavy tired blink, and deliberately nuzzling into me. add to that matching leggings that i sewed for her and my heart just might skip a beat. or twenty.

running shoes

remember when workout clothes used to be used for working out? me neither. the most action my "running shoes" see these days is a sunday trip to lowe's, pacing the aisles for drywall anchors so that we can hang the curtains we bought months ago. or watching people get paid the big bucks to run with a pigskin on TV while my much too squishy bum sits on the couch and watches them, thinking if someone wanted to pay me to run I probably would. not that I mind their current state of retirement. sure, I miss running. maybe? yes, I think I do. although not as much as I miss being able to run up a flight of stairs and not be out of breath. I might not be able to knock out a 3 mile run like I used to, but I can rock a 2am sway like nobody's business. and these days, that's much more useful. 

change

i hate change. let's just get that out in the open. that's why i have an iPhone. because even when they "change" it's just slight enough that's really it's still the same. 

that picture is one of my favorites. it's from liza's first week of life, when her little head was covered in dark hair and she spent her days as a perfect little burrito, always held and snuggled. and somehow, always sleeping. well two nights ago we decided it was time liza made the venture across our tiny hallway and into her crib. she's spent the last five months splitting her time between our bed (as pictured) and my dad's cradle that resides in our room. and if we had a bigger bed, or maybe a bigger cradle she would probably stay in those places another five months. or five years, who's to say. anyways, we plopped the guest mattress down on the floor of her room and geared up for a long, first night of unswaddled, crib sleeping. and then she did something we weren't expecting at all. she slept. from 7pm to 8am waking once in between to eat. there was a whole two times that her bink fell out and she needed help finding it. it was pure madness. and pure bliss sleeping for an eight hour stretch.

on one hand, i'm so thrilled and proud that my little baby can sleep by herself. it gives me comfort that she feels safe enough to close those perfect brown eyes and give in to the sleepiness that fills them. but at the same time where did my tiny baby that needed to feel me close to her and hear the sound of my voice go? and when exactly did she leave? there's so many things i feel i've already forgotten, and so much i wonder about the person she's becoming every day. is she going to wiggle out of my arms so that she can walk, or want to be carried until she's five? will she be shy around new people and hide between my legs, or will she find them more fascinating than she finds me? i'm so thankful for a child that is healthy, and growing up in the way that she should. i just hope that the changes come subtle enough for me to be graceful about them.