A Growing Home

I haven’t known how to respond to all that’s happening in our country right now. I’ve felt tension with changing my screen black for Black Tuesday or re-sharing an image, because would I just be trying to prove something on social media about myself? In my life stage right now, I’ve also been completely off the news because it’s just too overwhelming. Instead, I’ve been processing everything with Pat and a few trusted friends.

I don’t have the words to respond to what’s going on, but here are words from my good friend and mentor Chante Griffin. Her words struck me in such a deep way when I read them last week, and I keep thinking of them over and over again. To me, her words are incredibly hard, because they speak uncomfortable truth and cut right to the heart of what is happening. Here they are:

I want us to understand that the cries for non-black folks to cry out for justice re: #AhmaudArberyand, #GeorgeFloyd and others is really a cry for black folks to be loved.

For if black folks were loved, they would not be unjustly killed, belittled, or have the police called on them when they’re just out for a walk in the park or a jog in their neighborhood.

Our calls for justice/love are right and from God.

But here’s the thing: you can’t MAKE anyone love you. Only God can do that. Only God can change hearts. So our cries for justice must be supported by our prayers for love.

IF we pray for love, then the wall of evil that upholds racism will dissipate. (Maybe not as quickly as we want, but it will dissipate.)

As we pray for love, God’s love will infuse US too, allowing us to love the very ones who have hated us, killed us, belittled us, and called the police on us without cause.

In this season, as we continue to grieve the many ways our country has never loved black people, may we remember to seek Love and pray for love. May we love with the love that’s always been denied us. May we learn to pray when our hands seek to war. May we learn to war with our prayers.

Amen.

“Don’t seek revenge or carry a grudge against any of your people. Love your neighbor as yourself. I am God.” – Leviticus 19:18

I should start by saying that I had absolutely no intentions of having a garden this year. Baby #5 was due early April and while pregnant, I couldn’t imagine getting out to water the garden everyday and keep up with the daily chores with a new baby. But then, the pandemic hit us, and with all the uncertainty of not knowing what would be closed and what would be open, my mama bear protective instinct kicked in. Must, feed, family! On one of the very early days of shelter in place, I gathered the older kids and we reached into our fridge (seeds keep longer in a cooler place) to pull out our ziplock bags full of vegetable and flower seed packets. We took inventory, and I was grateful for our little stockpile from previous seasons that gave us more than enough to get a little start.

I also put in a phone-call to our local gardening store and ordered bags of top soil, chicken manure, tomato (Brandywine, Sungolds, Grape, and Black Cherry) and cucumber plants (Japanese long and Lemon).

Seed planing became our big event a few days later and lucky for me, I have way too many little hands that are super eager for the job. That first day we planted lettuce, beets, daikon radish, multi-color corn, carrot, squash, watermelon, and leafy green kale seeds. Looking back on it now, I’m not sure how I squatted down next to the raised beds with the kids without toppling over from the weight of my full-term basketball belly. Whatever the case, success! After a good water, we were now on our way to getting some sort of harvest from our yard. We waited a number of weeks before planting the tomato and cucumber plants, until the nighttime temperature was a little higher.

Joey is 3 and a half weeks old now, and I’m so grateful for that last minute sprint to get a garden in. Our garden has been such a source of joy for me and my family during this time. The raised beds sit right outside my bedroom windows, and after long nights of lots of wake-ups nursing baby, I can’t wait to open up the blinds and see our garden. Especially after a warm day with lots of sun, I feel like I can see new growth just from the day before. It never gets old.

I’ve also loved seeing the kids enjoy the garden. They get so excited to harvest a single stalk of asparagus (note to self, plant more crowns so we get more than a stalk a week!), or to cut a bunch of green onion for my father-in-law to make homemade scallion pancakes (drool), or just to watch them squeal over those first watermelon sprouts push their way up through the soil.

Are you interested in starting a garden? Now’s the time! It’s not too late! Last year I wrote up this post with some how-to’s to starting a garden, check that out and my garden tab for more posts to get some ideas.

A week ago, we welcomed our baby boy Joseph into the world. Being our fifth, there was so much about the newborn experience that was familiar. Getting to hold a fresh, new baby on my chest and staring at him for the first time, completely in awe of new life. Reveling at how tiny babies are when they are first born, everything is just so small! The baby and I learning the new dance of nursing. The little sounds they make, those early snuggles. The best.

This time though, things also felt so completely different. For three weeks before Joey came we had been sheltering in place. School was closed and Pat had been working from home for a while already. I was working off of teacher lesson plans to create a homeschool schedule and taking over duties as piano teacher. I cried lots of tears as I had to adjust to the new reality that my mom wouldn’t be able to come stay with us like she had planned. Even at my age now, one of the most comforting things in the world after such great an act as childbirth, is just having my mom with me. It’s hard even now writing about it. And, with Caleb having an untimely fever/cough virus, we weren’t even sure if Pat’s parents would be able to be with us either.

About a week before Joey came we were hearing from various people that due to virus precautions, there were some hospitals not allowing husbands to be in the delivery room during childbirth. Before confirming with our hospital that this was not the case for us, I had yet another good cry around the idea of Pat not being with me during birth. So many tears. Even after confirming with the hospital, I had to prepare myself that the regulations could change. At that point I just wanted the baby to come early while the current rules were still in place.

It was really weird anticipating the birth of our baby and the hospital not feeling like a safe place. I was in contact with my OB and pediatrician asking how quickly we could be discharged, on our end just trying to minimize our family’s virus exposure. Once in the hospital, it was so strange not seeing the faces of most of the nurses and doctors that were caring for us due to their protective masks. I was keenly aware of the frequency of hand sanitizer use and a little nervous as each new person entered the room. It was all so different and so strange. Pat and I were relieved when we were able to come home with our new baby and finally introduce him to his sisters and brother who weren’t allowed to visit in the hospital.

Somehow in the midst of all this uncertainty and changes of plans, my experience was not overwhelmed by anxiety and fear around what we were lacking. Instead, I was caught off guard time and time again by incredible, lavish, abundance in the form of friends and loved ones providing above and beyond for us. Just a few days before Joey was born, my friend and mentor encouraged and reminded me that this is God’s nature, stretching and multiplying what little we have or helping us be content and joyful with little. In my hospital recovery room, I first tasted this abundance in the form of a little, red dinosaur thermos that Pat filled with seaweed soup that our friend Julia had left at our door that day. Korean postpartum comfort food in a bowl. I devoured it. From that moment on, so much abundance.

Countless pots of seaweed soup and more on the way.

The prettiest flowers that I placed around my room. One of my neighbors is a talented floral arranger, I’ve spent many moments staring at the whimsical beauty of the blooms as I cuddle with Joey.

Texts from neighbors and friends making trips to Costco and various markets, wanting to pick up items for us and bringing them to our door. Including a farmer’s market trip in the pouring rain!

Huge bags of crafts, armloads of new to us picture books, and baby things from our amazing neighborhood village.

Chocolates from a friend who knows me well.

A jar of kimchi!

Marco Polo messages and texts with good friends, sharing lots of photos and random new baby musings.

Pat’s parents staying with us, my mother-in-law waking up with the big kids every morning and the joy she brings to them. All the laundry that she’s been folding for our huge family! My father-in-law’s fresh bread and cooking, which has become a new comfort food for me.

A surprise caravan of cars decorated to celebrate my birthday! Joey got to meet his loving aunties and little future friend crew from a safe 6-feet away distance on our sidewalk. I can’t even tell you what this meant to me, as I’ve just been longing for my closest friends to meet my newest baby.

It’s weird to think about this current world that Joey was born into, with so much uncertainty around us. Of course, he has no idea, swaddled up in his blanket and sleeping the day away. But someday we will tell him stories of this crazy pandemic that the world was faced with, his birth in the midst of that, and then the many, many stories of the abundant ways our family was loved and cared for, when his mama thought we would would be lacking so much.

Saturday mornings have become pancake mornings over here. Almost always blueberry, every once in a blue moon they get studded with chocolate chips, and in the winter time, they’re in the shape of snowmen with a little sifter ready to go with some powdered sugar to dust on top as snow. After a long week I somehow always forget about it, but as I find myself wondering what to do for breakfast on Saturday mornings, I remember, “Ah, yes. Pancakes.”

I started with this Martha Stewart basic pancakes recipe, I liked it because it was pretty easy to remember. As happens with almost all my baking, I started to tinker with it to see how much white flour and sugar I could eliminate or sub out. I love the nuttiness of the different non-white flours and almond flour in particular has a lot of protein, which I’m always trying to get more into my growing kids. The original recipe calls for a few tablespoons of sugar, but if you’re adding blueberries or other fruit or drizzling maple syrup on top, then you really don’t miss it.

The recipe I’ve included below is doubled from Martha’s original. The doubled batch is enough for a full breakfast and a half for our family of 6. Friday night, I mix together the dry ingredients and leave it on the counter ready to go in the morning. Even this step that takes just a few minutes the night before really helps my morning self feel ready to conquer the day. Especially if I wake up to a squawking Lucia with her voracious morning appetite.

Saturday Pancakes, adapted from Martha Stewart

1 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup almond flour
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp salt
4 tsp baking powder
2 eggs
2 cups milk
4 Tbs neutral oil
fresh or frozen blueberries

Stir together the flours, salt, and baking powder with a whisk. In a separate bowl, beat 2 eggs then mix in the milk and oil. Add the dry mixture to the wet, stir together. It’s ok if the batter is lumpy!

Heat a non-stick skillet (we love our cast iron) over medium heat. Add a dollop of coconut oil to coat . Use a 1/4 measuring cup to pour pancakes into the skillet. Add blueberries over the top, be careful to have space in between. When there start to be bubbles on the top of the pancake, or when you an see that the underside edge is cooked or browning, flip pancake and cook for another minute or two. When both sides of the pancake are golden brown, put onto a plate. Repeat the dollop of coconut oil between batches.

Serve with soft butter and good maple syrup.

one. I’ve discovered the life changing magic of high-rise jeans. Why had I been resistant to try them for so long? I grew up in the age of low-rise jeans, and I thought that’s what I would wear my whole life. But finally, I went for it and got a high-rise pair. And then a second pair after that, and I’m in love! First of all, I have a long torso and so suddenly all these tops that I wished were just a little longer now fit great. Second, I’ve had four kids and a squishy belly to prove it. Those extra inches up top just hold everything in and make me feel so snug.

two. Speaking of jeans, my absolute favorite jeans for a few years now have been from Madewell.. They fit like a glove and don’t start sagging down even after a full day of wear. I’ve also experienced the same with BDG and Everlane.

three. We are in the thick of summer and I’m just starting to get into the hot weather cooking groove. I was inspired by a conversation with my church mom friends about the Instant Pot to just stop using the oven (because it just heats up the house even more!) and put the instant pot or the stove more to work. The problem is that I haven’t really built up my Instant Pot recipe repertoire yet. I’m sure that by the time I’ve collected the right amount, it will be fall and I’ll be doing my usual roast chicken again!

four. I’ve been hearing more and more about this film and am so excited to see it!

five. For the first time in over 8 years, I’m not pregnant or breastfeeding. Lucia is now 19 months old and at this point with our last 3, I was already pregnant. It’s kind of crazy to reflect on that. In the last few weeks the kids have also all started sleeping in closer to 7AM and I’ve been able to get consistent, really full nights of sleep. All of a sudden I’m noticing that I have way more energy and bandwidth. It’s really nice!