edited by sammy use&credit:) (clipped to Polyvore.com)

The dress doesn’t fit, my pump won’t pump, and my kombucha’s running away.

Proverbs 31:27 She looks well to the ways of her household. This verse has often been just the inspiration I have needed to remain motivated doing the daily tasks of a homemaker. The Hebrew word for the phrase looks well is tsâphâh meaning to keep watch and has the implication that she watc hes diligently. After a day of one catastrophe after another, I have might have thought there was more hope to see pigs flying through this April sky than to elevate me to match the status of the woman in this verse. But the Lord gave me a fresh perspective of what that verse might really be saying. Let me first share with you about the dress that doesn’t fit, the pump that won’t pump, and my elusive kombucha.

Over the past few months I have found it really rewarding to take on some new endeavors that some people might even describe as antiquated or archaic in today’s society. I’ve rediscovered my love for sewing, especially Arianna size dresses. I’ve been making my own baby food and also trying to breastfeed my little one until mid-July, just after she turns one. And I’ve been experimenting with cooking more traditionally with whole foods so I’ve been soaking my grains before making pancakes or bread, making my own dairy products when possible, and trying my hand at some fermented foods, kombucha being one of them.

My first failure came when my I attempted to have my little one model the dress I painstakingly made in order that I might sew on the last embellishments. After battling with her squirming and fidgeting little self, I finally got a good look at my masterpiece only to find it’s bodice was way too big for her and maybe this adorable sleeveless dress might fit her in December, just in time for Rochester’s first blizzard. Failure one. My second trial centers around breastmilk suppy as it seems to be diminishing rapidly and doesn’t want to make it till our set July weaning date. We (my loving husband and I) bit the bullet and upgraded to a Medela pump so I can try to boost my supply, only to find out my pump won’t pump. Failure two. My third failure I discovered as I went to put away a pair of shoes in the front closet and glanced at my batch of kombucha. As I fully anticipated seeing a glass bowl with a clean dishtowel sitting quietly in the corner, I discovered the pesky little tea towel dropped in the bowl and due to the wonderful creation of capillary action (remember second grade Science) the towel soaked up what had to been at least 2 cups of kombucha and was dripping all over the shelf in the closet. Failure three.

So much for looking well to the way of my household was my mind’s first condemning thought. But I opened up the Word of God and dwelt on the verse for several minutes. I came to the realization that the word “well” only speaks to the women’s actions, not the result. It would be irrational to think that everything we attempt to do should turn out well. I believe the “well” in this verse is speaking to the woman’s actions. She took the effort to care for her household. She was not idle. She put in effort. And my deduction is that even where this effort failed, she put in effort to try again. I love that verse in 2 Corinthians 1:12 that says “ofr our rejoicing is in this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the world…” So tomorrow, maybe I’ll start a new dress for Arianna and cut the pattern down a size. As for my milk supply, I have faith that the Lord will see this through. As for the pesky kombucha, I now have a glass jar with a lid the Lord provided me through a friend, so the next batch with be tea towel-less and lastly, I am thankful for capillary action because without it we wouldn’t have the beautiful trees that are just starting to bud, and the daffodils that are peeking up in all my neighbor’s yards. Look well, my friend, and when the results aren’t perfect, smile and remember that if you did it diligently as unto the Lord, you have succeeded.

The Battle Belongs to the Lord

I’ve had many posts I’ve wanted to share on my blog but I have refused to write anything until I write about my delivery of the most precious little girl I’ve ever met, Arianna.

After doing months of prenatal Pilates work out videos, gaining just the right amount of pounds during pregnancy, and being incredibly informed about pregnancy due to my background as a nurse, I thought I was tough, intelligent, and ready for anything. What I found out I really was that what I was filled with was pride.

My water broke around 7pm at a friend’s house and I was barricaded in the bathroom not sure what to do. (awkward) When Ben was able to come to my rescue he asked “what do you need?” which was comical because really I had no clue.

My contractions didn’t begin when my water broke, so I was nervous they would induce and start an epidural. But around 8:30 the contractions started. From 8pm to 2am is much of a blur, but I can remembering the contractions started hard and fast and never let up. My whole goal of the delivery was to avoid the epidural. I convinced myself this was because a natural deli every was what is best for the baby, but really on the inside I’m sure it was so I could brag about how tough I was without one. Ben didn’t want me to get one either, but his reasoning was so we could avoid a c-section as it often epidurals slow down the delivery and make c-sections more of a possibility. So at 2am when I couldn’t take it anymore and I asked for the epidural, and I overwhelmingly felt like a failure. After the epidural my BP dropped, the baby’s heart rate subsequently went low, and there was some controlled panic from the hospital staff. In addition, sometime during the night I spiked a temperature, which needed to resolve or a C-section would be more imminent. After my vital signs calmed down, Ben and I were left to ourselves. I could have enjoyed this time of relief as the pain was now subsided, but instead I found myself in a mess of tears. I was still consumed with my own pride, saddened that I wasn’t tough enough to do this on my own. Everyone around me told me to be pleased that I took on the contractions for six hours victoriously without the epidural, but I couldn’t find the consolation in that since I didn’t make it all the way.

Around 10am came my first round of pushing. This is when we found out Arianna was sunny side up meaning she was looking up towards the skies instead of down to the ground. I knew at this point we were in battle. She was not going to come out easily and the dreaded c section was not looking more real than ever before. But by 2:09pm she came into this world and Ben and I were overwhelmed with joy. We didn’t expect a girl, we were both ready for a boy, but within seconds we knew we would never have had it otherwise. The doctor told me I was a champion pusher and at the time I think my pride was pleased to hear such a compliment, but now I know better and that it was the Lord who gave me the strength to push.

After coming home and experiencing mother’s boot camp (that’s what the first 2 weeks of postpartum can be likened to with all the physical, mental, and spiritual rigors) I had some time to look back and reflect on the whole experience. What I realized is that the Lord took me through this battle to humble me and to show me His goodness.

Now if I look back I can see God’s invisible hand working continuously throughout the night.

#1 God had the contractions begin on their own, without an induction.

#2 God had my fever resolve on its own with no human intervention.

#3 God prevented any complications from my BP dropping.

#4 God gave me the strength to push Arianna out without forceps or a c-section.

Looking back on it all and despite how difficult it was, I wouldn’t have changed anything because of the valuable lessons I learned. My good friend Shona asked me to tell her my battle story. Now in retelling it I realize, it was a battle and that the battle belongs to the Lord.

Reconnaissance

re·con·nais·sance (ri kän′ə səns, -zəns) noun an exploratory survey or examination, as in seeking out information about enemy positions or installations

I'm not sure if yesterday will go down in history as one my most yellow bellied moments or if I can take credit for my resourcefulness in the midst of crises. One thing I do know is that I shouldn't stand by the phone waiting for CSI to call asking me to guest star as their newest P.I.

So the story goes as follows. After my very gracious husband agreed to allow us to get rid of the monstrous mugo pines that have taken over our back island, I got the brilliant idea that instead of paying someone to come and remove them, I would find someone to pay me to remove them. i.e. I put an add on Craigslist announcing I would sell these mugo pines cheaply if someone would be willing to dig them out themselves. Within 6 hrs I had my buyer in hand and was pretty proud of myself for such an ingenious idea.

May 11, 2010 3:08 pm Home of Noelle Lewis - Ben calls me and tells me the buyer is not coming at 5:30 anymore, he is coming at 3:30 due to a conflict schedule, so I would need to be the one to supervise this project and collect the cash. Being the yellow bellied fool that I am, I told Ben I was too scared to deal with this man and asked if I could pretend I wasn't home. Instead of rolling his eyes (well I don't think he did) he graciously agreed knowing how timid I can be and called back our buyer to have him leave the money in the mailbox.

May 11, 2010 3:28pm Home of Noelle Lewis - The man is pulling up the road in a red truck, I hurry around the home, close the blinds, and turn off all the lights. I see him get out of the truck and his accomplice staying in the truck. I rush to the nursery (top floor right corner room) to spy while he starts to remove the mugo of his choice. After awhile he is joined by another man. This gets boring and I call Ben to discuss my spy out.

May 11, 2010 3:42pm Home of Noelle Lewis- I get suspicious of these two men, wondering how we can be sure we can trust them to pay. Instead of doing the common sense thing and going outside to show them I'm home and I'm here to collect my cash, I decide to write down their licence plate number. Hey, it can't hurt, right?

May 11, 2010 3:51pm Home of Noelle Lewis- The men carry the pine to their truck (this is still being observed while I am crouched on the floor, pulling down one slot of the blind so I have just enough room to squeeze my eye and observe what is now taking place). The men start the truck's engine and pull out of the driveway. WAIT!! I didn't see them pay. Then the thought came to mind, maybe while the first man was digging out the pine, and the second man remained in the truck, possibly he went to the mailbox to deliver the cash.

May 11, 2010 3:54pm Driveway of Noelle Lewis- I run out the front door as I see the truck vanishing out of sight and rush to the mailbox to collect my cash. I open the mailbox, no cash. I open my neighbor's (maybe they weren't crooks after all, just number challenged and left it in her mailbox). No cash in there either.

May 11, 2010 3:57pm Home of Noelle Lewis- I saunter back inside, begrudgingly pick up the phone and call Ben to report we have been the victims of a cruel Craig's List crime. I reassure him that I have their licence plate number and we should call him up, demand the money, or let him know we have him tracked. Ben reassures me that he probably just forgot to pay and will be back. I tell him I don't share his optimism but agree to wait at least an hour before calling him.

May 11, 2010 4:12pm Driveway of Noelle Lewis- I wander back out to the mailbox thinking that perhaps the money was in the very back and I just missed it. I look again and still no money. I turn around start towards the house when I hear a vehicle coming towards the home. Sure enough, a red truck. The man gets out, hands me twenty dollars, I'm speechless and all I can say is, Hi I'm Ben's wife. He smiles turns around and leaves. So much for the dull life of a housewife. I say my life is pretty interesting...or at least I make it that way.

Fish Makes Me Cry

This post is in honor of my good friend Kristen who was my encouragement for trying something new. Fish. I didn't eat fish growing up and now I want very little to do with the creatures. However, Ben and I have been trying to eat a lot more health consciously and so I decided to try to swallow some addition Omega-3 fatty acids in the form of fish.

The bottom line...I cried during the entire time I ate our fish. It wasn't a full out cry, not a sob, not a weep, nor a wail. It was more of a sniffle, but this only compounded the problem because the crying made my nose run, and my nose running made me sniffle and then the fish aroma was only more intensified as I took these additional breaths. Which brought us to the point in the night when Ben asked, "Are you even allowed to be eating fish while pregnant? Isn't that one of the forbidden foods?" And the sniffle became a sob as I contemplated this statement, figuring I just did something so injurious to our unborn babe by eating fish, that the baby would be permanently damaged. I'm really hoping I can use my pregnancy hormones as the cop out on why fish would make me cry, or at least why it would create such melodramatic thoughts in my mind. Understanding the mind of a pregnant lady is not always easy, but neither is eating fish.

So here we are with the big question of what to do now. But I decided--I'm not going to claim defeat --a slipperly, slimly, squirmy little creature will not get the best of me. However, I am wondering, next week when I attempt round 2 of mastering the art of fish culinary, if anyone has some clothespins I can borrow for my nose.

Note: With a little reassuring help from google, I did learn that tilapia is on the list of low mercury fish and can be eaten twice weekly.

The Toothbrush

If I never saw a toothbrush again, I'd be a very happy woman. I might be a friendless woman, and my husband may never kiss me again, but at least I wouldn't have to relive the horrors I experienced today. Every day since work has ended I've been checking things off my to-do list and today I decided to tackle the refrigerator. Well, the bleach water solution and rags just weren't doing the trick, so I got an old toothbrush and went at it. Three hours later and probably some callouses from scrubbing so hard, I was finished.

Now for the part of the story I can't believe I'm publicly revealing...
Some days I get done with the housework and think, "Hmm, I bet not a single soul (except for maybe Ben) even has a hint of an idea of the meticulous, OCD inspired, travail I have just endured." So to appease my disconcerted mind, I took pictures of the before and after of the fridge project. No...I'm not that pathetic to post pictures (not to mention my friends would probably never eat at my house again if they saw the before pictures) but just to keep them for a day or two and remind myself of two things, "It's good to be a housewife!" and "Label that toothbrush so it does not by mistake ever enter another human mouth again."

Highlights from the Second Trimester

For anyone who has experienced pregnancy, or for all of you out there who continously hear about all the horrific, too detailed, every second updates about pregnant women (therefore feeling like you have experienced this thing called pregnancy) ... you'll realize that I must have been in my second trimester from Jan - April as that is the time when you get a whirlwind boost of energy and therefore become Ms. Fix It, Ms. Social, Ms. I Can Do It All and therefore neglect your blog.

Highlights from Jan would have included snow, dreariness, and boredom.

Highlights from Feb would have included:

-an amazing trip to see Amy in Chicago
-quality time with Megan on the plane
-Ben spilling paint all over the carpet during his painting marathon just so he could surprise me with a painted nursery
- Ben's last MBA class ever, giving me a life again on Monday nights besides Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy

Highlights from March would have included:

- free tickets to the Sabres game from a very kind coworker of Ben's
- a surprise getaway to Niagra Falls, Canada schemed up from my wonderful husband
- a $20 souvenior from Canada also known as a parking ticket (apparently Canadians are cheap and only have one parking meter for a whole row of cars rather than individual meters, therefore making it very easy for two intelligent college graduates (one with an MBA) to both overlook the meter
- my first gambling experience (calm down everyone it was with fake money and it was for a charity event, no my pregnancy hormones have not led me to the dark side)

Now Ms. Fix It is becoming Ms. Clumsy, Ms. Social is trading her name in for Ms. Too Tired to Socialize and Ms. I Can Do It All has requested a new title Ms. Can You Do It For Me Ben. However, the good news is that you all will once again have some very un-entertaining blog posts.