Sometimes the terrible twos are NOTHING compared to the terrible threes. At three a child can be more sneaky, get into more things, and generally lives in a world where they make the rules and everything I say is merely a suggestion. Is it fair to go directly from the twos to the threes? Maybe not, but alas as this is the way age and time progresses, I am stuck with a terrible three.

Granted, I believe that she may be partially seeking attention and I've been trying to give it to her. Yet, sometimes her antics go beyond simply seeking attention.

This morning I stumbled into the kitchen to find some coffee as this was the only way my eyes could be forced open. As I shuffle around the kitchen getting my salvation-in-a-cup ready, I notice a peculiar mess on the floor. Bread crumbs... My eyes fall on the kitchen table where a plastic gallon bag was torn from the side. Yes, this bag was a ziplock, but Sophia decided that it was easier to eat or chew... or mangle the bag to open it on the side rather than where the zipping mechanism is. Next to the plastic bag was a fresh-baked loaf of cinnamon bread that I had made yesterday. It is not the fact that she got into the loaf that stuns me, it is the shape of said loaf. The top-half of the entire loaf was gone. There were crumbs everywhere and a knife sitting next to the bread-explosion.

I focus on the coffee because I know a mother's un-caffienated response is far-worse than the focused, compassionate, and reasonable self that somehow follows the morning salvation. Can I be mad at her? Well, I suppose I could blame myself for not waking up exactly when she did. I suppose I could understand a child being hungry and the most obvious and delicious object for her to eat would be the fresh-baked cinnamon loaf just sitting on the counter. Possibly I was asking for it by placing this deliciousness on the counter. Yet, as I stood there this morning, all I could think about was the conversation that we had yesterday. It went something along the lines of: "Don't pick at the bread. If you want a slice, ask for it and I will get it for you."

I can see the little wheels turning in her three year old little brain. Her industriousness is unmatched as clearly Sophia and Jack not only managed to open a ziplock bag the wrong way, but also to eat 1/2 a loaf of bread from the top-down. They must have brought out the knife, but never saw a need for it as clearly their plan was working great. I imagine a three year old's plan is something along the lines of: "I'm hungry, I see bread, I want to eat bread." No thought for how this might be done or possibly if it should be done, just simple facts necessitating action.

Sometimes Sophia exasperates me. She lives in her own little world. It's as if I am invited... sometimes... if she feels like it.

After breakfast, she told me that she was going to get dressed because she had a party to go to. Note: Every day she says there is a party that she will be attending. Sometimes I am invited, sometimes not... regardless it requires a dress. She found the "candy-cane" (simply red and white stripped) dress that we found yesterday. Of course, she had worn it yesterday all day because it was twirly and offered her comfort along with the stunning brightness of color that she desires. 

I informed her that I had to wash it and she stated that she would put it down in the laundry room and that she wanted it washed soon. When I went down later in the morning to throw a load of laundry in, I noticed that she had actually taken the time to put it in the washer :) She was delighted by 10am to find that her new favorite dress was ready for wear.

She is such a contradiction. Sometimes she is extremely frustrating as she does not hear, or rather does not listen to instruction. Sometimes her masterminded antics are enough to flabbergast even the most calm mind. Yet, there are those moments when she is informing me that her baby is asleep and we all must be quiet, or when she cuddles up with me on the chair and reads for hours... yes these are the moments that make the terrible threes worth it all.

Sometimes even on the worst of days, you can somehow capture the essence of your soul. It is on precisely the days where the rug seemingly slips out from under you and the world is seen with fresh eyes as your heart tries to take residence in either your throat or your stomach (I don't know why the relocation is necessary, but nevertheless... it happens) that you can somehow capture something so raw and real about your own character and self.

It is also on these days when you discover the true growth that years of hard-work and concentration have molded your character into. Growth. Yesterday I discovered when my heart was tumbling and my eyes saw the world with a new clarity that not only have I become a better person in the last couple of years, but my essence has not changed.

It's gratifying to feel this positivity at these difficult moments because it reminds you some very important things:
I am worth it.  ~~~  My essence is honest, true, and sweet.  ~~~ Growth requires challenges.

I take pride in who I am and who I want to be. Yet, even for the seemingly most confident woman, life somehow can launch hurt at the heart. Sometimes it affects the soul so profoundly that you cannot turn back. Sometimes the shields somehow can block it so that its damage is only peripheral. I'm not sure which this is... However, I know that I will be ok. I know that I am a powerful woman who sits solidly in who I am and the characteristics that propel me to take pride in my life.

Growth.

I'm standing in growth and embracing the good. Sometimes it's wonderful to become reconnected with your essence within a raw and powerful place.

My life has become a whirl of work, excitement, and exhaustion. I don't really have a clear direction in mind for this blog, so please forgive me. I suppose it's more just trying to be honest with where I am at today... right now... in this moment.

1. I've started on a regime of birth-control pills as phase one of this egg-donor thing. I am hating the results. I'm fatigued, always exhausted, seemingly in a daze, and sometimes dizzy. In order to combat this, I have increased my vitamins, but I'm not sure it is helping. However, when I can drink 6 cups of coffee in a morning at work and still feel exhausted, there is something wrong! I need energy!

2. I got in a car accident yesterday. Totaled my car. Our other car hasn't been working for awhile and we've put off getting it fixed until the funds worked their way back in our pockets. So, now we don't have any car that works... and suddenly there are a couple of jobs that require a car. *sigh* So, yeah... it's a bit weird.

3. I doubled my hours at work in order to get medical benefits. Needless to say, I'm seeing ALOT of Starbucks these days. Thankfully, I think I've made a really great friend. She's new to our store, but we connect on so many levels. Every night that I work with her, I leave happier and more at peace. Last night we had the deepest conversation touching just about every aspect of life. It's a blessing to me.

4. Sophia... Sophia... Sophia... This poor little girl is sandwiched between two older siblings who are best friends and now Jack and Isaiah who are best friends. She's left out. She's pushed on her own. My sister-in-law corrects her for everything. She is not allowed to touch Isaiah (and she is a kissy, huggy type of little girl who loves to play with little kids). Every time she even gets near him, my sil yells at her. I've tried to redirect. My sil understands the fact that Sophia does not mean him harm... but she continues to bash Sophia at every turn. Today has just been rough. Sophia is in her terrible 3's, so when she is told that she's naughty at every turn... she might pinch or just pout. I'm trying to do special things with her and allow her to play as best I can. However, she's always being yelled at. I'm just getting frustrated and I don't know what to do with my sil or Sophia.

5. My sil is ready to have her baby... any day now... can I just say that I'm SOOOO happy that I'm not pregnant right now? It's bringing all those emotions, fears, and expectations that riddle the final weeks of pregnancy into sharp focus for me. I know it's a magical time and she does look amazing, but it's just so much emotions... To give her credit, she is handling it great. I know that she's under alot of stress (as we all are), and she hasn't been unpleasant to be around despite the fact that this is the crazy-preggo-time right before the gaaah!-baby-is-coming-NOW-time.

6. We had a friend drop off 2 deer last week and we got it all processed on our kitchen table. Now, I have to figure out how to feed venison to a pregnant super-sensitive lady. The stew went over.... ok.... any recipes are welcome!

7. Jack keeps itching his cheek and has now gouged a little scratch so deep into his front cheek. I've tried to cover it... put neosporin on it... but he scratches at bed-time.

So, that's where I am at today... muddled... tired... and waiting for the custard to get out of the oven so that I can put the gluten-free muffins in there :)

This week I received a message from a girl that I went to high-school with. We saw each other in the last week and she is now an elementary school teacher. We are trying to get together for coffee, but our schedules are not compatable. She saw that recent egg-donor blog that I had cross-posted to my facebook page. At first, she just stated that she'd like to know more... then she sent me this.

"I would really like to talk more with you about donating your eggs. You seem so excited and passionate about it. I am just so curious to hear more about this decision. Part of me is so excited that you have such a generous heart and want to help others, but I also am saddened because I feel like you and the gift of your fertility are being used and reduced to a commodity. I was reading Donum Vitae, by Pope Benedict, and he talks about how man is the only creature willed by God for his own sake. Children do not exist for the sake of anyone else. For that reason, they cannot be "had" because someone else wants them, nor can they be destroyed because they are not wanted. But I can tell that you have been thinking about this decision..so it would be great to get together soon."

Great.... so she wants to get together to "discuss" my decision and possibly convince me otherwise.

I received this e-mail as I got the forms that I needed to fill out for the clinic. Perfect timing. [note the sarcasm]

I guess I can appreciate her perspective as some close-family members are Catholic and believe that life begins with the embryo (which makes what I am doing wrong because some embryos might be lost). I know that this is a deeper issue than many would assume.

However, she seems to have reduced me and my decision to a "commodity".

*sigh*

I don't really want to engage her in an argument as that doesn't seem fruitful. Besides, if she is looking for an argument, she can find it anywhere. If she wants to see me for coffee, it should be about life and connection.... not to convince me that I'm doing something evil.

I have started to make myself unavailable because I need to take care of myself right now. I cannot go into coffee knowing that the purpose is to fight and argue. I might free up my schedule, but I'm just not sure.

It doesn't matter what others think about my decision. I feel that I am doing the right thing. She doesn't have children, and therefore her perspective might be different than mine for that reason alone. However, I wonder what the intellectual argument is to this.

Does it all just boil down to when you believe there is human-life?

Over the last month, I've started to make bread for the family instead of buying it. Of course, I'm not sure that I've actually saved any money through this venture, but it's a good start. After all, home-made bread tastes better, is healthier without all the preservatives etc., and its a wonderful skill to cultivate. Part of the reason why I decided to start this bread-making enterprise was simply because my sil and her husband were used to the expensive whole-grain bread. We, on the other hand, would buy bread possibly once a month for special occasions or specific meals. I only bought french bread and possibly a little sandwich bread during the summer for picnics.

As I looked at the price of the bread that they preferred, I figured it couldn't hurt to start making my own. After all, it doesn't take that much time and I've honed my bread-making skills in the past.

Therefore, whole-wheat bread, artisan italian loafs, french bread, white bread, and cinnamon bread have all graced my oven and our tables.

Now, I've found that I have one major problem with my new little enterprise. No... it's not the time....  (Really it takes about 15 minutes to make and the rest is simply waiting for it to rise and be ready.) The problem is my dull bread-knife. Now, in my defense, I found a batch of used-dull knives at the thrift store and this is what I've been using for quite awhile. I have one good chef-knife or santuko knife that I purchased through Pampered Chef. This is the knife that I use the most anyway, so I never figured that my dull bread-knife would really matter. Unfortunately, it's only when you start making several loaves of bread a week that you realize how inadequate your kitchen tools are.

I've decided that I'm going to try to save up my tip-money and purchase a bread-knife. However, I'd like to get a good one. I'm willing to spend a little bit of money and I want it to work well. Therefore, I need your help.

Do you have a bread-knife that you swear by? Is there a brand of knives that is better than any other? Give me your shopping advice as I'd like to purchase a quality knife for many long-years of bread-making.