What's The Point of Jam Without Bread?

Yesterday Ryan and I had the opportunity to go to the Lindon Cannery to help can peaches. I have been to the cannery twice before in my life - but both were before Ryan and I were married. One was dry pack - which I don't remember what we were doing, and the other time was for none other than peaches!
We signed up for a 3.5 hour shift, which seemed pretty daunting, but the opportunity is worth it. When we first arrived, the lady at the sign in desk asked me if I was pregnant. For a split second I was afraid they were going to turn me away. Instead, she told me that the earlier shift had a pregnant girl who wasn't even showing yet (but told them she was pregnant) pass out while on the floor. She cautioned me to be very careful and that if I started feeling dizzy, lightheaded, or needed a drink or a break to just walk away. Grateful for the word of caution, we went out onto the floor to get our assignments. As I looked around I realized there really is no place that would be "good" to pass out. Nothing but hard floors, equipment, and platforms. Poor girl.

Ironically, Ryan and I were placed in the exact same spot that I was assigned years ago when I came with my mom. We were the head of the line, the ones at the front of the conveyor belt. Our job was to sort out the peaches as quick as we could, looking for ones too small or too squishy. Ryan was also in charge of controlling how fast them came down and stopping the system if the other stations were getting too behind. We had a few bumps along the way, but we worked out a nice system and had things moving at 100% capacity for the majority of the time.

For the most part the shift went by pretty fast. It is super loud in there, so conversation is limited. Several times I looked up to see Ryan practicing his fly fishing cast in between loads of peaches. I just laughed. At last I heard him yell, "30 more minutes!" Unfortunately at that point I felt it should have been well past that - but at least things were winding down. Thankfully I couldn't see the clock, so I wasn't watching it constantly. After what seemed like at least 10 minutes, Ryan yelled, "25 minutes!"

"Stop it!" I shouted back, laughing. "I don't want to know! It's making it worse!"

Another "10" minute interval went by and Ryan shouted,

"22 more minutes!"

"Ahhh! Stop!!!!" Those last 22 minutes were painfully long, but at long last our replacements came and we stumbled out the door.

Even though we were tired and hungry, being able to serve out there really is a neat experience. I strongly suggest taking the chance if you are ever offered the opportunity to serve there or somewhere like it. It is amazing to see the mass amounts of food that can be produced to help those in need. And it really would be impossible without the help of volunteers. I know that service is a vital part of things, and I frequently feel that I am not doing enough. But I often feel at a loss on things I could do or ways I could serve. So this was a wonderful chance for me to give of my time. (And it gave me a good appreciation for my job. I admire those that work on assembly lines. I don't think I could do it! It's hard work!)

Another perk of helping out there is that you are then able to buy a few products they have available. This time they had salsa, spaghetti sauce, strawberry jam and marionberry jam. Ryan decided he wanted to get the salsa, spaghetti sauce, and marionberry jam (which was described as something like a blackberry jam). I asked him if he really wanted to get a whole case of jam since he really doesn't eat it much. He responded simply,

"Well that's cause we don't ever have homemade bread."

It was not meant as a jab. Just a statement of truth. We both love homemade bread, but it's time consuming. And besides, I have never attempted homemade bread in my life. Meaning white or wheat bread. I can make banana bread and such, but anything involving the whole yeast, raising, punching down, raising, punching down again process is intimidating to me!

We bought the case of jam anyway with the hope that someday we would have bread worth eating it with.

Well today after church I decided to make some banana bread since I had 4 overly ripe bananas. One loaf was the intention, but 4 bananas was perfect for doubling the recipe. As the bread was baking in the oven, I decided to look in my recipe book and read the instructions for white bread and see what it would really take. (My coworker gave me a recipe of his mom's but I couldn't remember where I put it.) And just like that I decided to jump in. Ryan was going to be gone for hours between home teaching and care center assignments anyway, so it seemed like a good excuse.

I don't have an electric mixer, so I had to follow the "by hand" directions, which is tough by the way, and soon I had a good mound of dough which I left to rise - hoping that I got the yeast right and that it would work.

40 minutes later I came back to discover that it had doubled in size, just like it said, and I very enthusiastically punched it back down and divided into the two smaller pieces it called for.


I followed the next several steps and managed to get it in the oven shortly after Ryan came home. It said to cook it for 40-50 minutes, but I am pretty sure it had only been in there 20 by the time we checked on it and it was definitely done. Not sure if my oven just cooks really hot or what...

Anyway, doesn't it look good? The loaf on the right is a little short a squatty. It didn't fill out the way I thought it would - but oh well. I have years left ahead of my to practice my loaf shaping skills. It takes a lot of time, but the results are worth it.

I cannot express how proud of myself I am. First homemade bread ever! And it was good! It was a little dense, but not in a bad way. And like I said - I have lots of time to practice and try different recipes and techniques. So eat your heart out Ryan! Your little wife is turning into a homemaking queen!

Realization

Thursday night, Ryan and I were invited to a BBQ at our neighbor's home. We were a little surprised by the invite, but decided we definitely wanted to go. We didn't know what to expect or who else would be there. As we rounded the corner to their house, we noticed another young couple from our ward crossing the street heading to the same place we were. Ryan jokingly said, "What is this? A young couple BBQ?" (The couple that invited us have 5 kids and the dad is a member of the Bishopric.) Once we were inside, we both laughed as we realized that yes, that is exactly what it was. There were about 6 young couples in the living room - some who I already knew, and a few that I at least recognized - mostly because they were pulled into the primary the moment they moved in like we were. I sat looking around the room, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by other young couples when a very distinct and somewhat depressing thought crossed my mind...

Ryan came up behind me at this very moment and whispered, "Dude - you're old."

I spun around to face him. "That's exactly what I was just thinking!" I explained. Together we looked back at the room full of couples and realized that we are so NOT young any more. Most of them have only been married a year or less. One couple has been married for 3 months. 3 months! Compared to our 5 years - that feels like nothing! And the difference in marriage time was one thing - but what really brought it home was the fact that I was the only one sporting a baby belly. In fact, I think that if this little get together had been a few months down the road instead of now - there is a chance our invite might have been forfeited by right of the "no children allowed" clause.

It was the strangest feeling in the world. For the most part on any given day I feel like I just graduated from high school. The fact that my little sister who is 7.5 years younger than me is now a senior is so incredibly strange. It's like my mind simply won't accept that time has moved on. (I am not saying I am stuck in the high school phase- I just don't feel like I have gotten any older.) In fact, earlier this spring while I was substituting a dance class, I recognized the music the ballet class was dancing to and realized that it was the same music I had danced to as the Crystal Fountain Fairy from 'Sleeping Beauty' as my first solo. The girls I was teaching became very excited and asked, "Oh! So did you dance with so-and-so?"

"Who?" I asked.

"You know! So-and-so!" (There really was a name, but I don't remember.)

I told them that I didn't know who that was and a suddenly the girls jaws dropped.

"You mean you were in the 'Sleeping Beauty' before that one?! How old are you?!"

I quickly defended myself telling them that I really am not that old - it just so happens that the last time they performed that show, besides obviously the one they were referring to, was when I was like - 14 or so. This seemed to pacify them, but the truth of it is - I really am that old! It's insane how quick it goes by.

I don't know why it takes little moments like that - teaching the next generation of 14-15 year old dancers, or standing in a room full of truly "young couples" to make you realize where you are in your life.

For a moment, I felt like we were the ones having the honeymoon baby. But then I realized that it really has been 5 years, and that 5 years is actually a pretty long time. A very long time around here anyway. It was a surreal feeling. There are times I still can't believe that there is a child growing in me. In fact, it really is beyond anything my brain can comprehend. But it's exciting. It's a whole new chapter! All of those other couples are where they are supposed to be in their lives, just like we are in ours. And it's a wonderful thing! Yes - it was "sad" to realize that I am not as young as I think I am sometimes, but life is amazing. Exactly where it should be.

As we guessed, the BBQ was to help the young couples in the ward get to know each other. Funny, how it took someone outside this "group" to think of that and arrange it. We had a blast. We all enjoyed great food and played games outside. It was a ton of fun! Hopefully this will lead to some good friendships and at least a connection in the ward. Sometimes it's hard to feel very connected to a ward when you are young and childless. It was a great idea and I am thankful to our sweet neighbor for putting it together.

We were all asked to bring a side dish, and so I thought I would share mine - a delicious recipe for a quick, easy salad that is sure to be a huge hit.

1 package vanilla pudding (I use the big box)

1 container whipped topping

2-3 Granny Smith apples

1 package (or more) fun size Snicker bars (meaning 8 individual snack size bars)

Make the pudding as directed. Fold in the whipped topping. Chop up apples and Snickers. Tada! Pure delicious goodness.

There are many variations of this recipe, but this is the one I went with for our BBQ and it was devoured. So I may have been the only pregnant girl there, and we may have been the "old" married couple of our young couple group - but I can still make a mean "fruit" salad.

Was That Not Obvious To You?!

Last week was very busy, and very exciting. We got to find out what we are having!

Last Tuesday morning I headed out the door to teach a few piano lessons, came home, cleaned up, then Ryan and I headed down to Provo for the ultrasound.

Before I go any further - let me just say, I have not had any "motherly instinct" dreams letting me know whether it was going to be a boy or a girl. I have not had any dreams or impressions. Pretty much a blank slate. However, in the time that we have been pregnant, and even before that, Ryan and I talked extensively about names. We agreed on a girl name pretty quickly but could never reach an agreement on a boy name. We didn't fight about it. We just couldn't come up with anything that we really loved. So by default, we stopped talking about it. And by default, our baby became a girl. We had a name, so we kept calling it by its name. And soon that little baby had a personality. I could visualize her all dressed up in cute little dresses that I was determined to make for her, fishing with her daddy in pink camo, etc.

We even tried a few wives tale tricks. In fact, my family is quite a fan of the "pencil trick." If you haven't heard of it, I think you can do something similar with a wedding ring and necklace, but anyway, the point is that you take a pencil with an eraser, stick a needle and thread in the eraser end, and hold the pencil point over your wrist. It will begin swinging on its own and then either go up and down, or side to side to tell you the order of boys vs girls. It has actually been dead on for pretty much everyone we know. No - it's not voodoo. Just fun. All growing up mine said I would have a boy first. But in the last few years it changed to girl - and not just that, but the whole order of the 5 kids (we'll see if we really make it that far) switched. Complete opposite. Which lead us to wonder if maybe all growing up we read it backwards... Who knows? The Chinese Birth Chart also said girl.

The last test to try was Draino. My co-worker told me about this one. It's not as pretty - but supposedly there is some science behind it. The basic idea is to take crystal Draino (not the gel) and add it to your morning urine in a glass jar. If it darkens in the first 10-15 seconds, it's a boy. If not, it's a girl. There are many variations on the colors, but that's the basic gist. The only real danger is that it smells super bad and lets off some toxic fumes - so most websites caution pregnant women to stand well away and make the man do it - outside.

The morning of the ultrasound Ryan and I decided to try it. I made him to the dirty work while I stood back and watched. The concoction boiled and fumed and turned a bit of a green to brown color, but in my opinion stayed mostly the same color from when it first mixed. Ryan and I looked at each other and shrugged. I went inside to finish getting ready for piano and Ryan took care of the jar. When I came back up, the jar was filled again. I laughed knowing that the scientist in him couldn't perform a study without it being a controlled one - meaning he had to try it too, along with a regular jar of water. Again, the color looked the same to me, but Ryan said that although they ended up the same color, mine actually darkened at the very beginning and then turned that color. Hmm... I guess I missed that. Or maybe it wasn't noticeable because I couldn't see the two compared. So it either meant I was having a boy or we were both pregnant with a girl.

A few hours later we sat in the ultrasound room, finishing up all the measurements, when the technician asked, "Oh, did you want to know what it is?"


"Yes!" We both replied. I know there are many that don't find out - but for me that was never an option.

She spun the wand around on my stomach starting at the head and moving downward. She pushed and prodded a little, coaxing the little thing to cooperate. I was silently praying that the baby would give us a glimpse. And glimpse it was!

"Oh!" She exclaimed as she quickly paused the screen. "You see that right there?" she said as she pointed to a bright spot. "You know what that means. You have got yourself a little boy." And just like that baby squirmed away - literally doing almost a full 360 in a counter clockwise fashion to hide his face with his little hands. (Or suck his thumb, which he loves to do!)


Ryan and I exchanged a shocked look, both mouthing, "Boy?!" in confusion. Our technician moved on, and wrapped up her last little measurements. I timidly asked, "So that was pretty obvious to you?" (If that particular angle was what she said it was - meaning a buttocks and leg... then yes, I could see it, but it was so quick...)

She looked up shocked. "Was that NOT obvious to you?!" she responded.

I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't. Everything about baby was healthy and perfect. He is measuring two days ahead of schedule - so not enough to move things up, but at least not measuring small. In fact, the estimated weight was about 15 ounces - which was quite surprising! They say most are about 11 ounces or so at this stage.

We left the office in a state of numbness. We both started giggling as we got in the car. A boy?! What?! I tried to see if Ryan had any doubts - but the truth of it was, we both caught glimpses of "down there" multiple times through the ultrasound. We just weren't sure if that's what we were really seeing. And Ryan confessed that that morning he woke up knowing that it would be a boy. No real reason. Just knew it would be.

We were not disappointed at all. In no way did I want to cry or feel let down. It was just a lot for my brain to comprehend! And then the dreaded task of coming up with a name!!!

We wasted no time taking off to make some purchases for the party we had planned with our families to announce it. We were in charge of dessert. We originally were going to have them cut into the cake and have them discover what it was by the color inside, but I had a fun idea pop into my mind days previous that sounded more fun. A pinata! But, to keep people on their toes, we decided to get a neutral cake - or at least something to confuse people. Maceys doesn't sell gender neutral cakes it turns out. We asked if they had anything that might work and the lady came back with a bright orange cake. Perfect!!! It was covered in birthday things, but we removed them and instead put "It's a boy!" and "It's a girl!" decorations all over it including the male and female sign in the middle with a big question mark. It turned out awesome!


We picked up a bunch of blue candy and bought a pinata (which by the way - pinatas don't come in gender neutral colors or designs either.) The best we could do was one that was green, yellow and white - but that had paper plate decorations on the side from Pixie Hollow which I intended on covering up. We decided to have a little bit of pre-party fun with the whole thing - a little teasing - so we drove to my parents with the cake. We brought it inside all taped up and put it on the counter with instructions not to open it upon penalty of death! (That way they would think that the cake was the answer.) We then left with the kitchen filled with younger siblings, all eager for a peak, but guarded by my mom, who I am sure was dying to know too - but was willing to go along with it. We also stopped by his parents to say hello. His mom wasn't there, but his dad instantly started trying to get it out of us. He tried looking at my phone while I was texting, peaking in my purse, asking leading questions - anything. But we didn't budge. It was pretty funny.

As family began to gather at my parents, we very casually decided to take the cake out of the box. My mom protested loudly - waving her hands and saying, "No! No! No! Not everyone is here yet! Don't you want to wait for Clair and Ellen?!" Ryan and I both gave her a non-committal shrug and pulled the box off.

The reaction was instant hoots and hollers of laughter as they realized the cake - at least the outside - wasn't the answer. My mom was very proud of herself, saying that she felt like Emma Smith all day - cleaning around the box, but never peaking. And I was proud of her too. Soon we had the whole family circling the cake, threatening to put their finger in and see what color it came out. But everyone resisted. Mom told everyone we would eat and then cut the cake as a group.

But then developed a dilemma. We had no intention of cutting the cake. Not at least for the announcement. That's what the pinata was for! But it was so fun pulling the family along - thinking that the cake was the answer... Ryan pulled me aside and asked me what we were going to do. How were we going to stop this? He warned me that it was going to get out of hand if we didn't clarify things soon. But in my muddled pregnant brain - I really honestly could not think of a way out. (Of course in retrospect it would have been SO easy to just tell them - just kidding! The cake isn't it!) But no... I panicked. I didn't know what to do. I felt we had gone too far down that road to turn back, so I just went along with it.


After dinner we gathered around to cut the cake. I fished around for some way to make it through this alright - without it sounding like we were purposely dragging it out. (We really weren't!) So my explanation was, "If the cake is pink - it's a girl. If it's blue - it's a boy." I thought that should be safe because I was relatively positive the cake was white. Then our biggest risk was convincing people the cake cutting wasn't all just part of this now huge expo. I cut the cake and we both held our breath as I lifted it up. At first I felt relief - White cake. Then dread - Pink raspberry frosting running through the middle.

Screams, cheers and applause erupted from our gathered family.

I put the slice of cake down with a sigh and began my lame attempt at back pedaling. "I said cake, guys, not frosting. The frosting doesn't count..." I was answered with confused looks. "Okay - so basically this wasn't supposed to happen. We got the cake to throw everyone off, but we didn't mean to actually cut it. It really is just for dessert. Neither of us knew what was in the cake. So yeah. Sorry about this whole thing. The real thing is in the backyard." I hung my head, my cheeks a little flushed from embarrassment, and slipped out the back door. Ryan dashed out the side door to go set up the pinata. As we rounded the corner, everyone realized what we were doing - but the general feeling in the air certainly wasn't as excited as before. More just confused.

That question mark in the middle there was my attempt to cover up the fairies on the side. The last thing we needed was fairies on the pinata after pink frosting on the cake.

We wanted the moms to be the one to break it open. My mom wanted a blind fold, but I refused reasoning that they really would not want to be blindfolded when it broke and the revealing candy came spilling out.

Both moms took their places and began swinging away. At first it was lighthearted and filled with laughter, but soon the tempo and aggression picked up as they threw those swings with purpose and determination. Everyone on the sidelines was laughing hysterically.



Notice in this picture (if it's not too small) my construction paper fairy cover-up is coming off...


The pinata finally broke and the kids ran in for the spoils.

Wait. Blue? Our family cheered as it broke, but instead of loud, boisterous, "It's a boy!" it was more of a question, "It's a boy?"

Ellen seconded this as she came over to us laughing and said, "Then what's with the fairies?!"

The candy was passed around and enjoyed as we all giggled about the mishaps along the way. I told them about the ultrasound and the brief peak we got and the fact that we were going off faith, though that's not totally true. We knew it was a boy, but I still was just hoping for a little more proof. By sheer chance I had another ultrasound set up for the research thing I am doing at the hospital two days later and told them that I would clarify then and let them know whether the cake and the fairies actually ended up being right, (and wouldn't that just be the cherry on top) or if it was indeed a boy.

After the candy was cleaned up, Deiderik went to town on the remaining pinata while everyone else sat and enjoyed the nice weather, candy, and some very delicious bright orange frosted white cake with pink frosting.


Father and son deep in thought. Or just enjoying the candy.

Two days later Ryan and I went to the other ultrasound. At the very beginning they asked if I knew what we were having and I said yes, but would like to make sure. After figuring out basic placement, the sonographer moved the wand around and suddenly up on the screen came the proof of all proof with no explanation needed. We all busted up laughing. Spread eagle - loud and proud. A very "how dare you doubt me, mom?" type of stance. Sorry son!

We are super excited! We have been shopping a little, though we haven't purchased anything. It's just fun to look and get ideas for now. Names are going to continue to be a challenge. Hopefully we will be able to come up with one before we leave the hospital!

We are very lucky to have such great family - for all of their support - and for putting up with our little fiasco. I probably apologized to both Ryan and my family that night for that whole cake incident a million times. It really could have been avoided in so many ways. But it also added to the mixture of chaos, fun and confusion. There was definite cause to doubt whether we knew what we were having with all the mixed messages we were sending, but there is no doubt any longer!

And if you were to be looking for a lesson learned it all this (for me anyway) it was a good reminder to not allow fun and games to turn into lies you can't get out of. Truthfully, we never told anyone that the inside of the cake would have the answer (until right before we cut it). We just didn't deny it - which can be just as hurtful. How many times in life do we say something that might not be a lie - but might not be the whole truth either? Of course every situation is different, but it is cause for thought. The other thing it reminded me of is not to doubt. I felt a little like the guys in the scriptures that are always asking for more proof when what they had was plenty. Now I can say that my reasoning was founded... I would hate to have bought a bunch of boy stuff and have it turn out to be a girl, but at the same time, I knew it was a boy. Why ask for more proof? (Sure, I know in this case it's probably okay as far as being prepared goes, but just a good reminder).

We are really looking forward to this boy and hoping that soon he will have a name so it will begin to feel more real. And most importantly, we are just thankful that he is healthy and growing well and that he has such an awesome family of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins to come to earth to.