Sweet and Sour Chicken

It's about time! Here's the recipe, along with a few pictures (and my own comments). It's an easy recipe, it's just a little time consuming, but oh so worth it! Hope you enjoy.

You'll need:

3-5 chicken breasts
salt and pepper

Breading:
1 cup cornstarch
2 eggs, beaten
1/3 cup canola oil

Sauce:
3/4 cup white sugar
4 Tablespoons ketchup
1/2 cup white distilled vinegar
1 Tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon garlic salt

Preheat oven to 350*

1. Rinse and cut chicken into one inch cubes. Season with salt and pepper.

2. Heat oil in skillet. Meanwhile, dip chicken into cornstarch and coat all the way, then into eggs.

3. Cook chicken in skillet until golden brown. Don't overcrowd your pan, so you'll need to do this in batches. Once chicken is golden brown, place in a baking dish. (I coat my baking dish with cooking spray)

4. Whisk all the ingredients of the sauce together. Pour evenly over chicken. Turn the chicken so the sauce gets on both sides. 

5. Put chicken in the oven for 15 minutes. Flip the chicken, then cook for 15 minutes more. (When you open the oven, you may want to take a step back, or hold your breath. It smells amazing, but the vinegar can take you by surprise and make your eyes water and nose tingle!)

I serve mine with white rice. I *love* white rice, and so do my kids. I've also served it with mixed steamed veggies or steamed broccoli, but really, this can stand on it's own. Like I said, easy peasy, but a little time consuming. Enjoy!

I couldn't get a picture of my son eating it. EVERY time I make it, he says "Mommy, I don't like that chicken". But EVERY time I make it, he eats it. I think he's just not partial to the smell of it, but he does like it, and he does eat it.

Also, I got the original recipe from pinterest. Here's the original (or at least, original to me): Made It. Ate It. Loved It.: Sweet and Sour Chicken

That time

It comes every year.

Sometimes it sneaks up on me. Sometimes I am ready and waiting. But every year in March, I remember.

The month I lost my first child.

The way I remember is not the same every year. It's not the same because I'm not the same.

Most years, I write about my experience. Some years I send emails to the people who were a part of my story. Sometimes I dig out the bills and stare at them- the only tangible evidence I have that I was pregnant. I allow myself the walk through all the memories I can muster.

Sometimes it's funny what you can remember. I was pregnant just 14 short weeks. Or long weeks, depending on how you look at it. Two of those weeks were marred in sadness and a sense of impending doom.

A few good memories surface, like thinking of how my sisters oldest and my child would be less than a month apart; how exciting it was to create postcards announcing my pregnancy to family; picking out a name and buying tiny baby clothes for my first. Little did I know.... little does anyone know.

But I suppose what I remember most are the hard things. The loud sobs that rocked my body to its core in my school's rotunda bathroom when my body told me for sure that I'd lost my child. The countless blood tests I went through to confirm, some the doctor ordered, some I asked for just to be sure. I remember pleading in a sense with each professional I met to find some glimmer of hope to hold on to. The ultrasound tech just said "... I'm not sure". And that ultrasound. Oh, that invasive ultrasound. I watched the screen, not quite sure what to look for. I'm so thankful to my friend, who was waiting on the other side of the door.

I remember the hospital, the surgery, the recovery room. The nurse, though she was trying to comfort me, making me cry. Everyone made me cry.

I didn't know what it felt like to leaved the hospital with a baby, but I know what it felt to leave empty.

I remember a friend coming shortly after my surgery to make me soup, because she didn't want me to be alone.

I remember feeling like a statistic. Another friend, sister, daughter, cousin.... who had lost a baby. Just another.

I remember the emotional pain, more than the physical. The pain that never really leaves. It gets dulled, it gets pushed below the surface. It gets covered with happy times and memories, but it's always there.


But it doesn't end there. Thank God, it doesn't end there.

God met me in this deep, dark valley in my life. He pulled me close and held me tight. I felt assured that my child was with Him. I laid in bed, clinging to God's word. Some portions spoke deeply to my troubled heart, which is probably how Lamentations became one of my favorite books. Verses like "My eyes pour down unceasingly, without stopping, until the Lord looks down and sees from heaven" (Lam. 3:49-50) mixed with "The Lord's loving kindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassion never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Thy faithfulness" (Lam 3:22-23).

Sometimes I look at my four beautiful children and feel guilty for my grief. How can I be sad about my one when I have four. But my heavenly Father loves each of His children, lost or found. My child was mine. The child who God formed and knew, who was not secret to Him. (Psalm 139)  I remember and I grieve and I thank God.

Just because I have 4 kids...

Instead of doing a blog about my resolutions, the procrastinator in me wants to do something totally different. Let's not analyze which side won out and why. So, here are a few things I'd like you to know about me as a mom of 4 beautiful and tiring children.

I do not know everything.

While I would love to claim that having 4 kids has given me superior knowledge about child rearing, that's just not true. Each kid is different, so I'm basically like a first time mom 4 times over. For example, my third child is the first to use a pacifier, so I have no idea how to wean her now that she's nearly 2 1/2. She is also my first to not really get the hang of potty training. My fourth seems like he's pretty reluctant to get the hang of sleeping on his own. He also doesn't want to eat any baby food. What I do know as a mom of four is that "the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry".

I am not super organized.

Today my son's doctor said "Man, you must be really scheduled at your house with four kids". I just smiled. We are, in fact, not really scheduled. And unfortunately I'm not really organized... YET. Of course, with one in elementary school, we had to get our act together a little. It wouldn't hurt to be organized, but every time I try, we move our lives around, a child gets bronchitis, I get a migraine that knocks me out for days, my favorite tv show comes on, oh wait.

My life is not an open book.

(For strangers, anyway). For some reason, having 4 kids seems to make people lose their minds. Add to that the fact that between each child is less than two years, well people can get down right rude. Yes, we know how this happened. Yes, we know how to prevent it. Yes, for the millionth time, my hands are quite full. Why yes, I am tired, all the time. And frankly, I don't know why it's any of your business if we intend to have more. If you're a friend and you've said any of these things, don't worry, you're in the clear. Although, it is getting a little tiring hearing "boy, you have your hands full", or "you're really busy, aren't you?"

I am no better than a mom with 1, 2, or 3 kids.
I guess maybe it's the side of mom's that want to compare. Listen, I don't think I'm better at anything than any other mom. I think God has given me the task of caring for four, and I think sometimes I get by and sometimes I need help. If you're a mom of 1, 2 or 3, I don't think I'm busier than you, more tired than you or that I have more of a reason to complain. I hear "And I thought I was busy with one (or two... you get my point)." Well, you are. I remember having my first. I was insecure, tired all the time, and I felt like crying at everything. I had no idea what I was doing. My second wasn't any better because I thought it would be a breeze, then she ended up being quite the opposite of her older brother. Going from one to two was a huge adjustment, and I felt like crying at everything.

I am BLESSED.
Children are a blessing. They are a reward. They are a heritage from the Lord. The world quite frankly screams that children are an inconvenience. Sometimes, I've let that noise in, and I've let it convince me of how my life would be without kids. Shame on me. My life would be different, but it wouldn't be better. Yes, my kids can make me feel like 4pm would be a great bed time. They can make me scream on the inside. But my kids make me happier than ever. My independent daughter comes over and kisses my hand and says "I love you". My son climbs in bed to snuggle in the morning, and asks if he can stay home from school to hang out with us. My two year old is a ball of energy and is a delight and my 6 month old smiles every morning and after nap time when I see him. They all are super affectionate and will give you all the love you can stand.  I love my kids, and while I can complain, I wouldn't change having them for anything.

Do you know what you're having?

A baby, people. I'm having a human baby.

So, I just thought I'd address some of the most common questions I get, and maybe my sarcastic remarks (that I think. Not that I say).

I fully understand what people are asking when they say "do you know what you're having?", but my smart-alec mind always wants to retort "well a mini human, I hope. A dinosaur would be kinda hard to birth".

So, not a question but: "you're huuuugggee!" Yes, usually said with that kind of emphasis. Oh, and you just made my enemy list. Mostly said by someone who has not been pregnant before, and occasionally by someone who I guess by the grace of God forgot what it's like.

"How are you feeling?" Really? "Like a day at the spa. On the inside". I've got little fingers, toes, elbows and knees prodding my insides. My hips and back and skin are stretching. I feel like I'm in a sauna, even on a cool day. I'm always hungry. Not to mention the leaking. From everywhere. TMI? I know. But you asked.

"Maybe you're having twins". Look, I know I'm getting big and all, but now you're just being mean.

And now for the real reason I wrote this post: "You do know how to prevent this, right?" No. Would you explain it to me, in detail, and give me cliff notes? Apparently, even in our 'christian' circles, there are limits. Four children is borderline Amish. I'm actually embarrassed for you if you ask me this question. It's just.... rude. Two children is perfect, especially if there's a boy and girl. Three children- not too bad. Four? You just need to stop. First of all, I love all my children. If I had stopped at Parker, we wouldn't have Caedence. If I had stopped at the "perfect two", wouldn't have Jolie. And if we had stopped at Jolie- well who knows all the blessings this fourth one will bring. Does this mean we're trying to rival the Duggars? Certainly not. But I'm also not limiting what God can do.

Oh, and to answer the real question, yes, I do. And believe me, we've tried.

Ok, to end on a nice one- "You're so tiny." God bless you, you naiive kiss up. Be my bff?

When God moves

It's hard to explain the feelings you get when you know God is moving you, and working on you. There is definitely a sense of fear. "Am I supposed to be doing this? What if I'm wrong? What if I go through all of this and end up the same? How am I going to get through this?"

There's a sense of anxiety. I've mentioned before that I'm an anxious person, but I think most would agree that when there's a big decision that needs to be made, there's also a sense of anxiety. When will I know? How long will this take? When will this be over?

But there's also a sense of relief, and a sense of thankfulness. We've asked God for this. We've asked Him to work in our lives and to show us what He wants, and it's happening in such a real way.

This has been one of the toughest transitional times in my life (I'm sure in Phil's too, but I'm only going to speak for myself). I've experienced such love and acceptance here in Florida. There have been tough times along the way, but I don't think I've felt unloved. For the majority of our time here, we've had no family members living near, and our church family stepped in and filled that role. I've made great friends, and so have my children.

But when God moves, you go.

It sounds so simple. So definite. And in some ways, it was. But saying goodbye will never be easy. Leaving behind the life we've known for 6 years, the place my children call home, will not be easy. It is the place I've had 3 of my children. Where my job has been so much more than that, and has allowed me to come and go as I see necessary for my family. Where my students have turned into friends, and sometimes even my teacher. The place where people have walked in and out of our lives, for different seasons of time, as God saw fit. No, it won't be easy leaving.

But I look forward to the blessings of our next ministry. I look forward to the new friends we'll make, the lives we'll touch, and that will touch us. I look forward to God showing us what He's working on. I'm excited for the new opportunities we'll have.  And of course, I look forward to being closer to family.

I won't say personal goodbyes through this blog. It would take forever, and I'm sure I'd get tired and my brain would get fuzzy and I'd leave people out. But if I haven't said goodbye, it's not because I don't care. It's because I don't want to. I am at the moment living in denial, but it will become all too real this week.

I'll just say that you all will not be forgotten. You've walked with my family through some of our toughest times. You've shared in our joys and in our sorrows. You've encouraged and mentored us. You've helped me to be a better mother and wife. You've been our friends and our family in times of need. There is no easy way to say goodbye. But we hope it won't be goodbye.

I am really good at being stressed out.

It's something that I don't have to practice. It just comes naturally.

One of the things that God has blessed me with is my love of psychology. If not for other people, for myself. What does this have to do with being stressed out? I've become really good at self analysis, and in turn, really good at snapping myself out of it. But it's not always been this way, and I've really had to, and still have to, work hard at relaxing emotionally.

So much of my life has been up in the air. I feel like I've lost a lot of control of what's happening around me. By past experience, feeling out of control of my life can be dangerous. Don't get me wrong- I'm not super strict with myself or kids, but I do like the illusion of control.

On one particular day that I was feeling extremely out of control, I had a God moment. Don't you just love those? It was just a gentle reminder, but it felt like a punch in the gut.

I sometimes wonder why God doesn't speak to me in an audible voice. Or even in a subtle one. Why I can't just open the Bible and see what I need to see for my trouble. Usually the answer is that I get in my own way.

This day that was out of control and I was beginning to feel sorry for myself. There was no plan for anything and I couldn't create one. I felt helpless. After about two to three hours of complaining in my head, I realized what I'd been reading for my personal devotions. The story of Joseph in Genesis had been in my reading for a few days (starting in Genesis 37).

Talk about not having a plan or being able to create one.

Through all of Joseph's uncertainty in his life, all he did was trust God. My brothers trap me in a pit? Sell me as a slave? Go to the top in my masters home, then get thrown in jail? Get forgotten in jail? No problem. Maybe his complaining was edited out, but I believe that Joseph just trusted God- mostly because he was forgiving of his brothers right away, and his successes in Egypt, which I don't think he would have achieved with a poor attitude.

When I thought of all Joseph had gone through (and not just in a 4-5 week period either) I felt slightly ridiculous for my attitude. What in my life has been so uncontrollable that I could not trust God?

I just love the story of Joseph and his reconciliation with his family. Part of my favorite passage is Genesis 45:5-8 "⁵ Now do not be grieved or angry ^[e]with yourselves, because ^(G)you sold me here, for ^(H)God sent me before you to preserve life. ⁶ For the famine has been in the land ^(I)these two years, and there are still five years in which there will be neither plowing nor harvesting. ^7 (J)God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant in the earth, and to keep you alive by a great^[f]deliverance. ⁸ Now, therefore, it was not you who sent me here, but God" 
Oh to have the faith to say "it was not you, but God". God is in control of all of my situations, even the ones that seem uncontrollable. I am humbled that I have a God that would care enough about me and my bigger picture to be in control of my situations. I am sure there were times that Joseph wasn't sure of what God was doing. There may have been times where he questioned what was happening.
I think I may always be prone to feeling stress, but I can change the way I handle it. Even in mine and my child's unsure situation now (which is for another time), I can trust that God is in control. He is handling my situation, and when it's all said and done, I can say, "it was God". Truly.

Journeying On

"Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Hebrews 4:16

I don't think I can say enough how thankful I am for you all and your prayers for our family. We've certainly felt them over these past few weeks.

I know what you're all reading this for, so I won't keep you waiting. Our ultrasound was this morning. Thank goodness for a 9 am appointment. I probably wouldn't have made it through the day if it were any later than that.

As I laid on the ultrasound table and the tech started my ultrasound, I felt an amazing sense of peace (which is what I've been asking you to pray for, right?). She showed us the heart beat right away, which was such a praise. My ultimate fear was no heartbeat. As I watched our baby twist and kick and float across the screen, I thought "It doesn't matter anymore." I was just so happy to see the baby, that I really felt as if I didn't care, but I also just knew that things were ok.

The doctor confirmed that also. She said she didn't see anything in the ultrasound that they saw the first time around. The anatomy looked perfect, and the baby looked healthy. Of course, she also said something along the lines of: "it's impossible to be 100% positive from just an ultrasound", so it looks as if I'll also be doing the blood test, but for now, we're just thankful that this part of our journey is over.

God has taught me some incredible things about trusting Him. This morning before my appointment, I kept reminding myself that if I really trusted in God, I needed to let my anxiety go. Apart from the brief lump in my throat, God allowed me to have a fairly anxious free morning. I know part of that is because Phil was with me,  part was because you all were praying (thank you!), and all of it was God.

One of the things I've been asking for throughout, and God has been granting me, was peace. So I think it no coincidence that this showed up in our ultrasound. It just showed me, not only how much God loves us and our child, but a little of His sense of humor (seriously, I could not help giggling about it later):