Do we all have a "calling?"

You know those people who are clearly doing what they are "called" to do. You can just tell. My question is: do we all have a calling? How do we find out what that is? Do circumstances like finances or relationships have the potential to make us miss out on that calling? Or, if we are committed, if we trust and go for it, is there some guarantee that we can live out whatever it is we are called to do, assuming we know what that is in the first place?

It's a question I've been asking God. What am I supposed to be doing? Honestly, if you ask me what my calling is, I have no idea. When people say "What's your passion?" my honest answer is that I don't have one.

I've taken a couple "spiritual gifts" tests. My results indicate that my top gifts are "faith" and "hospitality." Let's take those one at a time:

Faith - definitely a gift. There is no way I could believe in a truly good God who wants the very best for me even if it seems otherwise without faith. And that faith is not something I conjured up or willed to happen on my own. It was given to me. No doubt about it. Now, what do I do with that.

Hospitality - I love that idea. I love welcoming people, cooking for them. I yearn to make them feel comfortable. The hitch is I live in a tiny home and I typically have my shirt only halfway on while I simultaneously wipe a butt and make a peanut butter sandwich and my baby crawls around covered in avocado and dog hair. Sometimes all that makes being hospitable seem overwhelming.

Pre-marriage, pre-kids. If I'm honest, I loved this life, except I yearned for ..... what I have now.

It seems every time I try to take on something extra that seems worthy, I get thwarted. I don't get scheduled. E-mails don't get returned. I'm thanked, but they don't need me right now. In a way it feels like God keeps telling me what I'm supposed to be doing right now and I just keep questioning...."Really, that's ALL? And He keeps answering by blocking me every time I try to take on something else. It seems my answer, at least at this point in my life, is this:

Mom, wife, mom, wife, mom, wife. That's it. Nothing else. I know some women are mom, wife AND ________ fill in the blank with something noble. Apparently, all I can handle, and barely handle might I add, is mom, wife.

Can we just live in this photo?

Why am I not just OK with that? And why, if that's "all" I have to do, am I not knocking it out of the park? 

Also pre-kids. I have nothing left to give for dogs right now. It's just another being that needs me.

Growth is a process, but here is something I'm working on. If I lessen the mom/wife role in my head, I treat it as something I don't have to work on. It becomes something that gets in the way of some other thing that I want to do. That's when I start grasping for something else to make me significant, whether that's working or volunteering or sewing aprons or gardening. But if I can accept that my "calling" right now is mom/wife, it's easier to take on the challenges as a growth and refinement process instead of view them as an annoyance. I can give of myself more selflessly if I just surrender to the idea that what I'm doing is sacred, even if it's wiping up pee. 

Just me? Is it easy for you to just roll with the mom/wife role? Or do you buck against that defining you? Also, how the f--k did those pioneer women do it? I wonder that all the time.

When Molly Bea fell out of the crib

Molly Bea is our baby of the family. The third of three girls. The last baby, we presume. She has the sweetest temperament and a ready-smile.

Last week, she fell out of her crib. I'm often the parent who says "she's fiiiine" and moves on, but this one left me reeling. Molly sleeps in a crib elevated about five feet off the ground.

My husband modified the crib so that the side opens and closes like a door, with latches. I think any mother would be terrified, as I am, that one day she would forget to latch the door. 

Molly Bea is the second baby to sleep in this crib and I still double check myself every time I put her in there. So, here's the gist of it:

Poor little Molly can never get in a good nap. She is constantly awakened mid-sleep because she lives in a tiny house with two older siblings. So the other day when she fell asleep I laid her in her crib hoping she would get to stay asleep for awhile. Just as I laid her down my two-year-old started screaming and I rushed out to hush her.

I was actually quite pleased with my parenting at this point because I was calm with the screaming two year-old, quieted her and the baby stayed asleep. Five minutes later, I was on the front porch when my oldest child came out and said "Mommy, Molly Bea fell out of her crib."

I rushed inside. Molly was crawling towards me crying. My first thought was that there was no way I could have forgotten to latch that door and that my four-year-old had opened it while trying to console her sister. But Mira insisted she hadn't done that and I could tell she was telling the truth.

I inspected Molly's body. She had a small red mark on her forehead but was otherwise completely unscathed. She escaped without so much as a bump! I think her blankets preceded her fall and possibly cushioned her and I know "babies bounce" and all, but still! She fell about five feet, presumably head first. It could have been so much worse.

For the rest of the day, she seemed emotionally shocked, like she had just discovered that the world can be cruel. She still smiled at us, but she was on edge. She cried easily. Poor sweet child. By the next day, she was totally herself again.

In the last couple of weeks, friends of friends lost a child in a tragic rope swing accident and a toddler (also friends of friends) sustained burns all over his body from a pot of boiling water accident. I had been thinking about these two families a lot, and praying for them. When Molly Bea fell out of the crib, my empathy for them shot through the roof.

Obviously, I'm not comparing what happened to Molly to what happened to their children. But let's just say that if my heart was dropping into my stomach when I thought about these families before Molly fell, then it was dropping down to hell when I thought about these families, after Molly fell. Motherhood, parenthood, makes our hearts so vulnerable.

Another tragedy happened close to our house this past weekend, in which a baby died. The mom. I just cannot stop thinking about the mom.

Peantbutter pancakes (grain-free)

While I don't follow a grain-free or gluten-free or low carb or Paleo or whatever label diet, I do believe each of those diets has merits and the potential to make a lot of difference in one's health. I did follow a grain-free diet for about a year and I credit it with helping rid me of moderate adult acne and very painful menstrual cramps. These days, I'm much more moderate, but I still love a good protein and fat-packed grain-free recipe.

The inspiration for these pancakes came from a gal I follow on Instagram, @holy_kale. She cites this recipe . < That link has great instructions and pics. Those ladies both use almond butter, which I'm sure is superb. I use peanut butter because frankly, it's less expensive and I ALWAYS have it on hand.

So many great things about these pancakes!
-They are baked in the oven, so I don't spend my Saturday morning babysitting my cast iron skillet.
-They are super soft, an awesome baby food, but my older kids and my husband love them too.
-They use ingredients I almost always have around.
-They are loaded with protein - eggs and peanut butter -which I'm always trying to get more of into my children.

This recipe makes about 12 pancakes for me. The first two times I made it, I doubled it. This morning, I tripled it, and they all got eaten, and that was without me eating any!  My toddlers can easily eat 6 or more of these apiece, for better or worse!

Ingredients
2 eggs
1/2 cup applesauce
1/2 cup peanut butter
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp maple syrup
1/2 tsp vanilla
pinch salt

Whisk all ingredients together. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper (a must!). I use a soup ladle to drop about 1/4 cup of the batter into "pancakes" on the baking sheet. They'll spread a bit as you ladle them on and as they bake. Bake at 350 degrees for about 10 min. I let them cool for about a minute on the baking sheet.

These hold up great as an on-the-go snack too. Plain, or with butter sandwiched between a couple of them.

Rainy Saturday pancakes. I need a camera.

Happy eating!