Moroccan Chicken Sheet Pan Supper

One of the many things I am loving about Danielle Walkers new Eat What You Love Book is the quick, easy, sheet pan meals. When I first looked through the book this was one that I wanted to make right away. Actually let's be honest, I wanted to make the pop tarts and chocolate donuts right away, but there have been too many sweets in the house so dinner it is! Danielle has graciously allowed us to share a recipe as a sneak peek. There is still time to pre order and get the free lunch box and instapot chapters. 

Because making diner with a 1 year old hanging out in the kitchen and on my leg makes things a bit more difficult, plus I dont want to be stuck in the kitchen making dinner when Chet gets home, I try to prep as much as I can through out the day. And if you dont want to prep through out the day, this will only take 15-20 minutes to get ready all at once.

Christopher was happily eating a snack so I took a few minutes to peel then chop the butternut squash and set on a tray for later. To save even more time buy them pre chopped.

After he went down for a nap I pulled the spices and put them in a little bowl so I can just dump it on the chicken and veggies when needed. And lets be honest here, nap time is when I should be doing all the things I can't do while Christopher is awake. Not today. Mama wanted a nap too. And by nap I mean I caught up on This is Us. 

Paper coffee cups are super entertaining, so I let C go to town and play with that while I did some chopping. I waited until Chet got home to finish up putting it all together. But doing it this way meant I never spent more than 5 minutes at a time getting this ready to go in the oven. 

The final verdict: Delicious!! We will be making this again!

I would change the way I seasoned the chicken. I apparently dont have a bowl big enough to toss the spices with the chicken and most of the seasoning ended up on the bottom of the meat and I wanted it on the skin. Instead, I would make a paste with the oil and lemon juice and just rub it on the chicken. 

I also love a crispy skin and mine didnt crisp up too much so I might pull the veggies out and put the meat back under the broiler for a few minutes. 

Make this! You can thank me later. 

Moroccan Chicken Sheet Pan Supper
1 1/2 Cups Mixed dried fruit
2 TB dried parsley
Fine sea salt
1/2 tsp  ground cumin
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp sweet paprika
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp ground tumeric
1/4 tsp ground ginger
4 tb extra virgin olive oil
1 tb lemon juice
4 cloves garlic, crushed
6 chicken leg quarters (drumstick and thigh)
1 large yellow onion
1 medium butternut squash, peeled halved, seeded and cut into 2-inch cubes
freshly ground pepper
1/4 cup fresh mint leaves, for garnish
2 tb pomegranate seeds for garnish

Place the dried fruit into a bowl and add enough hot water to cover. Soak for 10 minutes to rehyrate the fruit. Drain water and cut fruites in half if they are large.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees

In a small bowl, combine the parsley, 1 tb salt, cumin, cinnamon, paprika, cayenne, tumeric, and ginger. In a large bowl, combine 2 tb of the oil, the lemon juice, 2 cloves garlic, and 2 tb of the oil, the lemon juice and 3 tb of the spice mixture. Add the chicken pieces and toss, rubbing the chicken to coat each piece well. Arrange the chicken pieces, skin side up, on one side of the large rimmed baking sheet.

Cut the onion into 1/2 to 3/4 inch wedges, leaving some of the core attached so the slices stay intact. IN the same bowl that held the chicken, toss together the butternut squash, onion, the remaining 2 cloves garlic, the remaining 2 tb oil and the remaining spice blend. Season with the salt and pepper and toss again. Arrange the vegetable mixtures in a single layer on the other side of the baking sheet.

Roast the chicken and vegetables for 20 minutes, then carefully sprinkle the rehydrated fruits around the baking sheet. Continue to roast until a thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the chicken leg registers 165 degrees and the butternut squash is tender about 25 minutes more.

Serve the chicken with the roasted vegetables and fruits. Sprinkle the mint leaves and pomegranate seeds over the top.

“Reprinted with permission from Danielle Walker’s Eat What You Love: Everyday Comfort Food You Crave by Danielle Walker, copyright © 2018. Published by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC.”

One in a Million

Three years ago when I was in the darkest part of my flare up, I prayed for healing. I wanted the big miraculous healing. I wanted my disease gone.  I remember sitting at church and someone was sharing her story on how God healed her in that way. And I just got angry. Why not me? (hello, entitled much?) Wasn't I doing everything 'right'? (um, so what?). I still had surgery. I still had a long recovery. How dare God work beyond my understanding or not in my time or in the way I want.
And it took about a year to realize it, but my prayers were answered and healing came, just in a different way.
I believe God put it on my mind to find a different way to begin healing, outside of medicine. Medicine has its time and place but it currently wasn't working for me. Knowing He created our bodies and He created food to give our bodies what they need, has led me on an exciting journey the last few years and has brought more than just a physical healing.

Fast forward two years to this March, my new GI ordered a colonoscopy because he wanted to get a baseline for how active (or not active) my disease was, plus it had been 2.5 years since my surgery and it would be a good idea to make sure everything had healed correctly.
After the procedure he let me know that he found NO inflammation but there was a significant scar tissue. He had even used a pediatric scope and couldn't get it through the scar tissue. He wanted to follow up with a abdominal CT scan to see how extensive it was. That scan confirmed what he saw. I was at risk of having a bowel obstruction and potentially a perforation, which would end in emergency surgery. His recommendation was to have a colonoscopy with endoscopic dilation. There would be a balloon at the end of the scope and he would inflate it to open up the scar tissue. I was told this procedure carried the risk of the very things I was trying to prevent by having it in the first place.

I put it off for several months because I am still nursing Christopher and wanted him to be a bit older and there were more risks with this procedure. Since having Christopher, I've become more fearful in many ways. Plus Ive watched way too much Grey's Anatomy. So I had quite a bit of anxiety about this.

A few days before the procedure I was sitting at my favorite coffee shop alone (the first time since C was born) and started journaling about my fears for the upcoming week. There was no getting out of it, but I prayed that there wouldn't be any scar tissue, so no need for the balloon and added risks. That became my prayer each day.

Fast forward past the prep, the waiting to be wheeled back to the OR; past the confused anesthesiologist and the nurse who couldn't find a good vein to insert my IV.
After it was over, my doctor came to talk to Chet and I. He seemed both pleasantly surprised and also a bit confused.
He told us that once he got in there, he still didn't see any scar tissue and he could not find any significant amount of scar tissue. Insert huge grin on my face. I said, "I knew it. I prayed that there wouldn't be any scar tissue. I knew it."

Side Story:

I remember hearing a sermon on the passage in Acts where Peter is in prison. The church is praying for him to be released, earthquake happens, Peter escapes and shows up at the door of those praying for him. When they are told Peter is at the door they say "you are out of your mind". The part of the message that has always stuck with me is, isn't that exactly what they were praying for? Why are they surprised? Do we believe that God hears us and answers us?
I realized I often feel the need to make excuses for God when he doesnt answer my prayers. Who do I think He is and who do I think I am, that I need to make excuses for God? "If its your will" is my way to deal with my own unbelief.
The topic of prayer and healing I am sure stirs up a lot of feelings, thoughts and questions for some. But I have chosen to believe that God sees me, he hears me and he responds. And I wont be surprised when He shows up. And he will show up, it just may not always be the way I want. I just have to have the eyes to see it.

Back to the main story:

He explained that the bowels can move and twist and it may have appeared like scar tissue. I think he "forgot" that he actually saw it and the scan just confirmed what he saw.
He went on to say that typically someone with a disease as severe as mine was, this just doesn't really
 happen. Medicine is always needed. "But out of a million people I guess there has to be someone who doesn't have the disease return".

The smile never left my face. He said as long as nothing changes, I wont need another test for a few years. Of course he said to call him if symptoms begin to return. I, however, don't expect to do that any time soon!

Last week, the unexplainable happened. That which multiple tests confirmed was there, was no longer there. And really, its not unexplainable at all. I know exactly what happened.

Nothing and Everything

9 months. 

It’s one of those milestone moments for me. Like first tooth. First time sitting up. First time figuring out how to unroll the toilet paper (yep, that happened today). 

9 months ago I gave birth to my little boy. He has now been carried in my arms longer than in my womb. Actually, that will be true in 8 days. As he was 8 very long days late.

In the 9 months I was pregnant with Christopher, we decided to move to Oregon. Chet found a new job. We sold our house. Moved to Oregon. Bought a house (moved again). I lost a job. All the while growing this human. 

In the 9 months since I gave birth to Christopher, Ive changed countless diapers, nursed him countless times, made funny noises, danced like a lunatic and ate lots of baby toes. I kept a human alive and fed and clothed and clean and happy. That’s it!

“Our culture doesn't have a good way to measure what you are accomplishing.Your baby will grow and meet milestones: check.

To the untrained eye, most of this work, at the end of the day, will look like nothing.

But we know better.

There is no greater task than the “nothing" you did yesterday, the “nothing" you are doing today and the “nothing" you will do tomorrow.

Caring for a baby is all about the immediate experience, yet the first two years are all about investment.

It's give, give, give and give some more.

These are hard-fought, rough-and-tumble years that can cut us down to our core and take us soaring high above the clouds, all in the space of five minutes.

And yes, as you do the hardest work of your life, it will seem like you're not getting anything done at all.”

Happy 9 months my boy. I love you to the moon and back. 

https://www.mother.ly/life/what-do-new-mothers-do-all-day

Christopher Everett

One month ago (yesterday)..., Christopher was placed in my arms for the first time.

I’ve wanted to write out Christopher’s birth story for, well, a month now, but a crying baby and the need to really process that event has prevented me from doing so.

The weeks leading up to his birth, I thought a lot about the birth of Christ and what it must have been like for Mary. 

Was she already having contractions while riding in on the donkey? What must it have been like to know know where you would give birth, only to find out it would be next to a bunch of animals and their poop. No birthing tub full of warm water, no yoga ball, no soft bed. I imagine it wasn't a silent night— not as she moaned and screamed along with the noise the animals were making along side her. All was not calm in my mind. 

But there she still was, birthing the Savior of the world in the most unexpected of places. 

This, being a mother, having Christopher, is something Ive longed and prayed for, for so long. 

This child, my son, is an answer to so many prayers. 

This experience of growing a child in my womb and birthing him was a miracle when you think about the fact that I really did nothing. I didn't tell my body how to nourish him or how to grow an arm or a brain. God designed my body to just do that. I didn't tell my body to start the contractions. Good thing too, because I am sure I would have told them to stop and not start again! And while I did push, it was because my body was telling me you must push now. God knew what he was doing when he created my body and it really is quite amazing as I think about it all.

And on the flip side, I think Satan knows exactly what he is doing as well. The guilt and fear and lies have been and are in full force. I think he knows that exhausted mothers are easy prey. And it has taken me four weeks to get past the shame I felt (and to a degree still feel) that my birth experience didn't go how I wanted (when does anything go how we want?!), because I didn't feel like I was a strong as I wanted to be. I didn't handle the pain as well as I wanted to. But I am now telling those voices and thoughts to shut it. I had a natural, unmedicated birth, after 30 hours of back labor and I am proud of that. 

My due date was November 9. At the beginning of the year when I realized that the 9th was the day  last year, the doctor told us we were loosing our baby, it felt like a promise from God that he is bringing healing out that moment. Knowing the chance of delivering on my actual due date was slim, I still kept hoping he would come that day. But with each day that passes, I got more and more and anxious. Then November 14th came—the day we actually miscarried—there was still no sign of Christopher. The physical and emotional pain of that day last year played over in my head and continued to play into the days that followed.  

I read this the day after he was born online and it felt so fitting. “ It comes in waves. The disbelief and wonder that she is here and we made it. The sadness and grief. The joy and peace. I don't run way from them any more, I let these waves come. This is nourishing for me, healing.

Last year, right around the time of her birth, I was miscarrying…again. There’s a weird conflict knowing that if I hadn't miscarried then, she wouldn’t, our rainbow baby, wouldn't be.

There is an odd comfort in that. A bittersweetness that cant be avoided. And that nourishes my heart a little. A heart that holds both the bitter and the sweet.”

Even though I was still well in the ‘normal’ range, fear took over and I worried he would never come and would need a medical intervention. I tried everything—special tea, walking, taking stairs two at a time, spicy food, and I even went and tried accupuncture. Still nothing.

Birth Story begins here—stop reading if you don't want to hear about placentas, mucous plugs and the like.  Plus its long…30 hours worth of a labor story!

My contractions began about 7pm on November 15th. Chet and I were sitting on the couch watching one of our shows when the first contraction came. I pulled out my phone and opened the app I had downloaded to count them. I didn't even tell Chet until I had had a few, for fear that it would be a false alarm. It wasn’t.  

We went up to bed, knowing that once we told our midwife, she would tell us to get some rest. I sent her a text about 9pm when my contractions were consistantly about 10 minutes apart and sure enough, rest was what she said. 

The contractions continued to increase in frequency and intensity. I soon realized I was having all back labor, so laying down was no longer an option as that just made them hurt more. Chet tried to get some sleep and I took a bath. I sent our midwife another text about 1am letting her know we were now about 5 minutes apart. I could no longer stand during each contraction and I would just pound on the bed until Chet came over to put counter pressure on my back. We thought we would be heading into the birthing center that night. We were waiting for that magic 4 minutes apart that would let us know it was time to go we were almost there. 

However, the contractions became 6 minutes apart, then 10, then 15. Exhausted, because I never got more than a 15 minute break, and because the pain was in one spot on my back, we realized we wouldn't be having a baby that night. 

The rest of the night and more of the next day was the same, erratic contractions. I called my midwife around noon, in tears, because I thought labor had stopped. I was still having minute long, strong contractions, to the point where I would vomit almost each time. Again, she said, rest, and to eat a meal. To which I laughed, then cried at the rest part, then immediately threw up what I ate. 

Around mid to late afternoon, they started to become more consistent again. Hovering around the 5-6 minute mark. I sat on the yoga ball, crying and moaning while Chet put pressure on my back. Our midwife checked in about every hour at that point and each time I prayed she would say come on in. Around 8pm, she called again, I made Chet answer the phone because I couldn't talk and she gave the go ahead. We grabbed our bags and trash can and jumped in the car.

It was raining and cold and the 30 second walk from the car to the front door was a bit much as I stood there shivering uncontrollably. Marilyn, our midwife, immediately turned on the shower and had me get into to warm up. After several minutes my body finally began to settle down a bit and she was able to do her initial vitals check on me and the baby. Laying down was next to impossible for those few minutes as the contractions were so strong and I kept vomiting. So as soon as she was done, I climbed in the giant tub. The warm water felt good as I still had the chills. She suggested that I have some IV fluids as she could tell I was quite dehydrated. Two bags later and I felt much better…as better as one can when in labor. I continued to labor in the tub for a while and I finally lost the mucous plug. I was amused at how excited everyone, including me, was. 

Once the fluids finished, I was visibly feeling better, so she said she would go ahead and do an exam and see how dilated I was. When she told me I was about 8.5 centimeters I started crying. I feared she would tell me I was only 3 cm. I was already so exhausted, having not slept at all the night before and we were already half way through this night where I knew I wouldn't be sleeping. I was so relived so much progress had already been made. I would dose off in the few minutes between contractions and I remember freaking out and telling Chet I thought I stopped breathing each time I did that. And each time he assured me I was still breathing. It was at this point that I told Chet we wouldn't be having any more children.

I wouldn't have been able to do anything without Chet. Beside the fact that he was constantly holding me, letting me dig my nails into his arms, telling me I could do is and encouraging me, he was quite literally reminding me to breath. 

With each contraction I yelled. Then the yelling turned into screaming. All I kept saying its a good thing we were the only ones there. I was still in the tub in the middle of a contraction and I yelled my water just broke.

Time became a blur and even when I would ask the time, they wouldn't tell me. It’s probably a good thing they didn’t! Soon it felt like I needed to begin pushing. I tried for a while in the tub, but the positioning just didn't work for me, so they had me move to the toilet. Yes, the toilet because your body has been training to push when you sit down!

Chet continued to press on my back as I had each contraction. And with each contraction I would push. They assured me I was making progress as I felt like nothing was happening. After pushing for a while on the toilet, they could tell I needed to change positions again and moved me to the bed where I held onto a yoga ball and continued to push. Over and over I continued to say I cant do this any more. And all I wanted was to just stop and go home. Turns out they wouldn't let me go home as they could now see his head. 

After what seemed like an eternity of pushing, pain like I have never experienced (and I have had more than my fair share of pain over the years) and the ring of fire that seemed to last for days, Christopher Everett was born at 2:19 am on November 17th. 

The first few seconds I just laid on the yoga ball, crying, gasping for air and trying to talk, saying “I cant talk, my voice is gone”. I finally rolled over and they handed me our 7 lb 14 oz son. 

Relief was all I felt for a while. The pain was gone...mostly, the pushing was done, and our son was here, safe and sound. After doing the initial check, to make sure he was ok, they left us alone for a few minutes. So there we laid, me covered in sweat, Chet supporting me from behind, and Christopher, still attached to his umbilical cord. Our new little family. Overwhelmed with gratitude and 'oh my gosh we have to take care of this human'. 

Our midwives came back in and my placenta was now ready to come out. They bagged it up, still attached to Christopher, and waited until it stopped pulsing to cut the cord. They checked me out and saw I needed some stitches. After they took care of me, they gave Chet the scissors and he cut the cord.

They asked if we wanted to see the placenta and of course I did (I did decline having them encapsulate it for me, don't worry!). So we watched as they checked it out and made sure everything looked good. They showed me this thing that kept my son alive for 9 months. This amazing thing that nourished, protected, and kept him safe. 

We were left to rest for the rest of the night. And even after being up for close to 48 hrs now, I couldn't sleep. Chet on the other hand has the gift of falling asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow. So there we laid, Chet and Christopher asleep in my arms as I tried to begin to process through all that just happened. 

A post partum midwife came in and helped with nursing and also brought us some breakfast. We eventually showered then crawled back into bed before we could go home around 7 that night.

We were at one of our follow up appointments this last week and they went through the notes they took. They mentioned how quickly my labor went. I laughed and said if 30 hours is quick I dont know want to know what is considered long.

Apparently the first 22 hours wasn't considered “active” labor, but prodomal labor. I don’t care what she says, I was actively laboring those 22 hours. And what felt like the longest part, pushing, was in reality only an hour. 

One month in we are exhausted. That month has had its fair share of rough moments. We both have spent much time in tears. He slept for 4 hours straight last night and I am excited! This whole parenting gig is so much harder than I ever imagined, but its worth it. I am torn between wanting to get past this sleepless night stage and soaking in every moment I get to rock him to sleep.

We're Moving!

A year ago, we were walking Mozie at the park and talking about what the next season looked like. We wanted to start a family and knew our current place, while we loved all 640 square feet of it, wouldn't work for much longer. We quickly realized that anything bigger than 640 square feet, that was also located in our town, wouldn't work as we felt it was important that I stay home and not work when our kids are little. Early on, we both agreed that moving out of California wasn't a desire we had and never considered that option...until we went for that walk.

Chet threw out Oregon. And while we both had only visited there once several months before, it didn't sound like a crazy idea. So we intentionally visited several times over the last year to see if we really could see ourselves living there. Last fall we found out we were having a baby, so we made the decision to stay until after the baby was born then try to move. After we lost the baby, we decided to go ahead with our plan. Chet needed to stay at his current job through the middle of March, so that became our target date for job searching. A few weeks before that date, we found out we were expecting another baby. 

The job search felt long and slow going. There was no movement and we wondered if we were making the right choice. We even opened up the job search to local ones, knowing something would still have to give down the road. And then all at once, 3 different companies reached out and moved Chet through the process quickly. One was in Portland, One was in Orange County and one had openings in both Orange County and Portland. Within a couple of weeks, Chet had 2 great offers for both Portland positions and the Orange County one said they weren't ready to move forward yet. 

Chet accepted an offer, in which they gave him every thing he asked for. 

After Chet received both offers and we were fairly certain we would be moving to Portland, I went and talked to my boss. Knowing that meant there would now be three out of our six staff members leaving withing a month of each other, I felt the need to give him a heads up. I went in asking if I could work remotely until November when the baby was born. I would be able to help with all of the transitions in our office still, but I would still have a job (who wants to hire someone who is 6 months pregnant?!). He readily agreed and even threw out the option of working part time remotely after the baby was born, which is something I didn't even ask for originally.  Everything was quickly approved through my HQ office even in the midst of budget cuts and position eliminations.  

Chet planned to flight up to find an apartment. I wasn't able to join because I was assigned to a case a juror that was to last for 3 weeks. However, they postponed the case after 4 days, so I booked a last minute flight so I could fly up with Chet.

Short term leases are hard to come by, but we found a place we liked and signed up for 4 months. We met with a realtor to happens to have connections to Porterville. And we found a birthing center we liked and will have our baby there. 

We met with another realtor to sell our condo in Fullerton. We had about 24hrs. to pack up half of our stuff to be ready for the photographer to come the next day for pictures to list it. 

It's been a long process to get here and a whirlwind the last few weeks. 

But each step of the way we have been shown God's faithfulness and kindness in answering prayers and giving us things we haven't even asked for yet. From Chet's new boss giving him a salary that would provide for our family, to his current boss not wanting him leave. To my job allowing me to work remotely with the possibility to continuing after the baby is born, to no lapse in insurance coverage even though I will be part time(huge answer to prayer). To finding a short term apartment lease that even has a dog park for Mozie! (its the little things) To a postponed jury case and to listing our condo for more than we ever anticipated because of this crazy housing market, and to hopefully selling it quickly (the last two sold within a week so we are feeling good about this.)

So Chet will move up there the middle of July to start working on the 17th and I will follow at the end of the month with a truck full of our stuff (who wants to help us pack up the truck?!) Lots of changes all at once, but we are so excited for the possibilities that are a head for our family. 

Redemption

I was a taking a yoga class several weeks ago and the instructor read Isaiah 43 over us before we began the class. As she read it the words "I am doing a new thing" stood out to me with a picture of a branch with new leaves starting to grow.  Chet and I are in the midst of some big  transitions and these versed just seemed to fit. I've thought about those words several times over the weeks. We have talked about wanting a fresh start. The last two years have been so wonderful, but they have also been really hard as we walked through my disease, surgery, recovery, and the loss of a baby. 
A new thing. It sounded refreshing. It's what we were longing for. 

SPOILER ALERT: We excited to share that we are having a baby due November 9th!

This time around was a bit different. As my husband would say, we are no longer blissfully blind, but cautiously optimistic. The pain of loosing our first baby is still very real and made itself very known during the early weeks of this pregnancy. 

The morning, afternoon and evening sickness has felt a bit too much like the start of another flare up and the fear of ending up back in the hospital has been a little too strong. 

But other day I was compelled to looked at a calendar and find the date we were found out we were loosing our baby. I knew it was around the time we were due. There is was, November 9th. 

Call it a coincidence if you want, or call it God redeeming yet another dark and painful season. 'He is making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland'. Instead of dwelling on the pain and loss we felt that day , our Redeemer, The Holy One of Israel is saying, "See, I am doing a new thing!..." 

Unexpected.

We decorated our tree. 

We put out a few of the Christmas decorations (some decorations are not Mozie proof). 

I read my advent study and lit two of the advent candles (Note: Advent candles are not Mozie proof)

We watched Elf. 

I think I tried to will the joy this season. As we were singing one of the traditional Christmas songs on Christmas eve about how wonderful and joyful this day is it really rubbed me the wrong way. I tuned out the songs and thought about how that night 2000 years ago must have been anything but calm and joyful and peaceful. I can imagine it was messy. Dirty. Loud. Painful. Not what they expected. That felt more real to me than Silent Nights and O Little Town of Bethlehem.

My cute willow tree nativity set gives a picture of calm, soft and pretty. But I imagine Mary cringing a bit as she lay on top of a pile of hay, animal poop a few feet away, a donkey hovering over her as she tries to breathe through the pain of labor. I imagine she was scared. 

I think about the words his angles spoke to Mary and the others he appeared, “Do not be afraid”.  Their presence alone must have been fearful but I also think the message would also incite some fear. But that is how God chose to enter in to this world. He chose to enter the mess. He chose to enter the pain. He chose to enter the fear.

We (I) am in a season that is not going as we planned. It is still a bit painful. But God has entered into that. He has given us peace in the midst of it. And He knew we needed peace more than joy. And I am finding comfort in the fact that Hope and Joy came in an unexpected way.