Molly Piper

Today I had to make muffins.

You might question that previous statement–”Molly, did you really have to make muffins?”

The answer is yes. Yes I did. And if you ever make these muffins you’ll understand why they’ve become a household necessity. They’re like oxygen to me and mines.

Most mornings I try to work a little stitch of time for Morrow and me–Orison’s at Kindergarten (for only a couple more weeks–eek!) and the babies are taking their morning nap. Sometimes we read books, sometimes we have a dance party, sometimes we play board games or puzzles. It’s not always easy to do, and there are always other tasks, but I’m really trying to be intentional with my second-born. These days are too short (as proven by my first baby almost being done with Kindergarten!!!)

Anyway, today he really wanted to help me make muffins. Every efficiency-craving bone in my body wanted to refuse him and just get it done quickly by myself. I really felt the Lord’s prodding though…

“Will you let him help?”

When I asked him if he wanted to help me, you’d have thought I’d asked him if he wanted to go to Disney World or something. He was so excited.

I’d measure things out while he stood on the step stool giggling with the excitement and anticipation of getting to dump it in the bowl. It was seriously precious.

We were getting to the end of our project and he said to me, “Mom you’re a heartbeat.”

Then he asked me, “What’s a heartbeat?” (LOVE him!)

I said, “Hang on. Let me wash my hands (which were covered in muffin batter) and then I’ll show you.”

“Are the heartbeats in the closet?”

“No, buddy, they’re in your body.” So I put his little hand on his chest and let him feel the flutter. “Do you feel that?”

“Yeah…” he said, concentrating on the sensation.

I gave it my best shot to explain heartbeats to my two and a half year old, but, not surprisingly, he quickly lost interest.

But I loved making muffins with him today. Here’s a silly (low-quality) picture of me and my little heartbeat:

It’s not always practicable to sacrifice efficiency in a mom’s busy world. Today I really felt the trade-off though: efficiency v. life-sharing. Will Morrow remember making muffins when he’s older? Probably not this particular time. But will Morrow remember that I made time for him, despite a busy day’s schedule? I hope so.

I can be too easily owned by efficiency and tasks around my house. Granted, I think that having an orderly home is important; it’s a value that I have. But…when and how can I flex that? I’m very thankful for God’s gentle reminders today to take time to feel the heartbeats. They’re not going to last forever.

And neither are those muffins…

This video will probably be of interest mostly to my parents, who were just here for a visit, but left before Cadence started to crawl. My mom worked and worked with her to get her up on hands and knees and cheer her on, but she just didn’t want to do it then!

So, here you go mom & dad! Cadence is a crawler! She’s really funny, because when she really gets going for a longer stretch, her arms and legs look like they’re moving fast (kind of like a shuffling motion), but then she’s just as slow as ever!

Whit’s been crawling for a month and a half now, so he’s Mister Cruiser. That’s why I (jokingly) told him he was “old news.” He’s going to walk anytime now, I think. SCARY!

(DISCLAIMER: When I made this video I wasn’t thinking I’d put it on my blog, so I talk and talk all the way through it, and I hate hearing my voice on video. Just try to ignore me. :) Thank you.)

Some days I feel so overwhelmed with twins. You know those people who wistfully say, “I’ve always wanted twins…”? Sometimes (most times) I want to just ask them: “Are you drunk?” But yesterday I was feeling so giddy and excited about these two babies. I felt like I was able to just enjoy all the craziness they bring to life. And they played really well on their own yesterday, too–major praise!

Last week Cadence had bad diaper rash (something none of my other kids have ever had), and that just made for such a hectic week. I tell people: “If my life operates at baseline (nothing really happening out of the ordinary), then I’m okay. But throw any kind of wrench into that and I’m sunk (fever, diaper rash, trying to potty train Morrow, making phone calls to doctors/insurance).” The doctor told us, “Just let her go without a diaper as much as possible.” While I understood her rationale, I just felt like screaming, “DON’T YOU KNOW THERE’S TWO OF THEM?!?!?”

Alright, my day must begin. I feel like those people on the Pyramid game show hoping for “No whammies, no whammies, no whammies!!!”

Well, friends, today’s my birthday.

I was woken up by a sweet little two-year-old hand tapping me gently. When my eyes sluggishly opened, there was a burst of song from Abraham, Orison, and Morrow. They came bearing chocolate chip pancakes and orange juice (two of my favorite breakfast items). I was too tired to even eat them, so the boys were happy to do their part to consume them for me.

These are good memories. Sweet family, sweet gestures… but every year I think about a different birthday.

It was 2004. It was coming up on my first birthday as Mrs. Molly Piper. I was already carrying Mr. Piper’s firstborn. He asked me one day, “When’s your birthday? May 25th?”

He was totally serious.

I, of course, was just shocked that he didn’t know my birthday. What in the world could he be thinking???? So he (tried to) explain himself:

“Well, I know it’s one day different from Bob Dylan’s birthday. But I just can’t remember if it’s the day before or after.”

Ohhhhh…rrriiiiiggghhhht. Now it makes complete sense. You can remember Bob Dylan’s birthday….

I didn’t get seriously mad at him or anything. I’m sure we laughed about it then. We still laugh about it now. That’s a mistake you only make once.

So every year we celebrate my birthday and Bob Dylan’s. It just so happens that Mr. Dylan is having a milestone birthday this year. Last night we listened to a documentary about his life in Minnesota and enjoyed it so much.

Happy 70th birthday (tomorrow), Bob Dylan! I like “sharing” a birthday with you.

So I made these really yummy ribs in the Crock Pot today. I haven’t made this particular recipe in a couple years, just because I forgot about it! (Don’t you love when you kind of forget about a good recipe and then it crops back up?) Anyway… it’s super good, and the ribs are so tender that the meat literally falls off the bone.

I’m sitting here typing this, smelling the yummy goodness and already hungry for supper. Which leads me to ask:

If you’re cooking in your Crock Pot, do you eat more that day?

I feel like I’m smelling delicious food all day and salivating, and therefore I want to EAT!!! So far I’ve avoided a full-0n pig-out, but I don’t know if I can make it till 5:30. That’s HOURS from now!!!!

If I cooked in the Crock Pot regularly, I feel like I’d gain weight. Agree? Disagree?

Talk amongst yourselves.

A couple weeks ago, my husband started a new job. He’s working for a start-up that’s set to launch this summer. I wish I could tell you more about the company, but I’ve gone and signed some legally-binding document and all that…

What I can tell you, though, is that the company’s called Abuyo.

Usually I don’t ask you guys to do a whole lot on this blog, just read and comment if you want. But today I’m asking a favor. They have a short survey you can take to gauge peoples’ interest in what they’re doing.

And maybe you’re not too motivated to click through and do it, but here’s some incentive:

• It took me less than a minute to do.
• I got entered to win an Amazon gift card for $100. (I don’t know if I’m exempt from winning because I’m family of an employee, but hey, I figured I’d go for it.)
• It’s for a good cause. (Not really. Unless you consider helping the Piper clan to be a good cause, in which case my statement stands.)

THANK YOU!!!!

On a more personal note, I’m really proud of Abraham for taking this new job. It’s a really good fit for him, and I think he’s going to be very successful with it. I know he takes his responsibility to care for our family very seriously. He’s dedicated to us, and providing for us financially is something he does that I want to appreciate more and more. I know I wouldn’t want that weight on my shoulders, and I’m so amazed at his desire to serve our family that way. I love that man so much.

THANKS AGAIN!

Orison finished up a unit on weather for school a couple weeks ago. Since then, he’s developed a kind of hyper-focus (obsession?) with tornadoes. And last week’s devastation hasn’t alleviated any of his fears, as you might well suppose, though I don’t think he saw any images from the storms.

To help quell his fears, I informed him about Minneapolis’s tornado siren, and told him that they do a practice every month to make sure it’s working properly. Naturally he wanted to know what day they do the practicing, so I absently told him, “The first Wednesday of the month.”

As he was coming in from school today he could hear the siren of an emergency vehicle nearby. He worriedly asked me, “What’s that? Is that a tornado siren?”

“No,” I told him. “It’s a police car or ambulance or something.”

“But when are they doing the tornado siren?” he asked.

“What?!?!” I thought to myself. “Is it the first Wednesday of the month?” as I tried to remember the current month and day. I realized that, yes indeed, it is the first Wednesday of the month.

“Who told you it’s the first Wednesday of the month?” I asked.

“Well…the month started on Sunday, and there hasn’t been a Wednesday yet since the month started, so this is the first Wednesday of the month.”

Right on.

“Well, they do it at 1pm.”

And lo and behold, at 1pm I had him run outside to listen to what it sounds like. I think he thought it would be louder.

I just found it funny that he’s tracking it so closely and privately. It’s interesting to realize that your children have their own thoughts running through their heads, their own events they’re keeping track of, their own little obsessions.

He also licked his finger today and felt for the wind direction. (It’s not a windy day here whatsoever, but whenever a slight breeze blows, he says it’s too windy.)

The kid cracks me up.