family – simplemamame

Sugar Cookies with Almond Drizzle

When our youngest turned 5 in July he asked for his favorite cookies instead of cake. These sugar cookies are gobbled up faster than you can sing “Happy Birthday” in our house.

Sugar Cookies:

3 cups flour (gluten free flour can be substituted)

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

pinch of salt

1 cup room temperature butter

2 eggs

1 cup sugar

2 tsp vanilla extract

Using a pie crust cutter, mix together flour, soda, powder, salt and butter until combined. It will be crumbly and butter will be the size of peas.

In mixer, beat eggs, vanilla and sugar until light and fluffy. Slowly add flour mixture until combined. Cover and chill 1 hour.

Roll out dough and cut cookies into desired shapes (I used a biscuit cutter to get a circle shape). Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven on parchment lined baking sheets for 10-12 minutes. Do not let the cookies brown.

When your cookies have cooled, they’re ready for the almond drizzle.

Almond Drizzle:

1 cup powdered sugar

1 tsp almond extract

1-3 Tbsp milk

In a small bowl, whisk ingredients into drizzling consistency. Drizzle across cookies with a spoon.

Leave a comment below if you tried this recipe. Happy Baking!

-Lauren

Little Bear

It’s been a while since I last posted. I thought I’d share our (now 4 year old) Bear’s birth story. Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday he came earth-side, other days it feels like a lifetime ago. I’ll never forget the day he made me a mommy.

I woke up two days before my Due Date, feeling like I could finally breathe. Hug Nugget (that was what we called him) had been up in my lungs for the better part of two trimesters, kicking the air right out of me. That night I’d slept 16 hours, the longest stretch of sleep, without waking up, in quite some time. I wondered, like I did every morning at that point, would today be the day? I cleaned up around the house, readied my birth center bag one more time, prepped a meal for the freezer and laid down on the sofa to rest. I fell asleep (when you’re pregnant, any amount of sleep is amazing) my body was definitely gearing up for something. John came home from work to me asleep on the sofa. We had dinner and watched the news. At around 7pm I started feeling light contractions. We timed them, they were every two to four minutes. We called the midwife and let her know I was possibly in early labor.

We continued to time the contractions, which felt like nothing more than my belly getting firm every few minutes, until about 8pm when we decided to go to bed. I figured, they’d wake me up once they were strong enough. It had started snowing right around the time we went to bed. We joked that our boy picked a great night to be ready. We put our bags right by the door for easy access if we needed to leave quickly and went to bed.

Sometime between midnight and 1am my contractions picked up. They woke me from a dead sleep. Not painful, but they felt like they were coming on every minute. We timed them and of course it was every one to two minutes. We called the midwife again and she suggested waiting a little longer, I was still not in any pain, so I decided to make the bed, vacuum one more time, do some dishes and bounce on my exercise ball. After an hour we called again, contractions were slightly stronger and still every one to two minutes. She suggested we come to the birth center, so that’s just what we did.

We drove through nearly blinding snow for what seemed like forever. The normal 20 minute drive took us almost an hour. We were so relieved to be at the birth center! I had nightmares about delivering the baby in the car while trying to get there. Thankfully, that nightmare was never a reality. We warmed ourselves up in the cozy birth suite and since I was only between 5 and 6cm, my midwife encouraged me to get more rest, “Things will be rocking and rolling when you wake up in the morning.”

I laid down on the soft bed and closed my eyes. Then it hit, the pressure of a hard contraction. I was completely caught off guard. Around 4am, I asked to get in the birthing tub. The water felt amazing, the pressure was cut in half. John sat on the ledge of the tub behind me and rubbed my neck and shoulders. I ate some food and drank coconut water. It was refreshing. Not long after I got in the tub, I felt the need to push. The midwife checked me again, and I was only at an 8. We waited, my midwife and the birth assistant continued to encourage me. They spoke softly and kindly. They helped me get to positions to ease the pressure and John would rub my lower back to ease discomfort.

I prayed. I prayed for strength through each contraction. I prayed for wisdom to know when the right time to push would happen. I prayed for my midwife. God answered my prayers. He reminded me, this life about to be born was in His hands. Billions of women had given birth since the dawn of time. Then my midwife whispered, “Let the wave fall over you, don’t fight the contraction, let it wash over you and relax every muscle in your body after it peeks.” That was honestly the best advice anyone could give a laboring woman. Within moments transition hit and I was ready to push. There was no control. I just had to push. The pain melted away with each push, and I was getting closer and closer to seeing our little Hug Nugget earth-side.

We hopped out of the birthing tub so I could plant my feet on the ground. It was a little after 7am. Light was coming in the windows from outside. The snow was coming to an end. At 7:48am on November 19th, 2014 (the day before his due date) our little Hug Nugget came into the world. He cried, John cried, “You’re here!” I exclaimed as I looked into his big brown eyes. I held our baby and kissed his pouty lips. We got off the floor and onto the big bed for snuggles and recovery. A few hours later, we were home in our own bed, snuggling the day away.

Now, 4 years later, he’s still a snuggle bug. He’s kind and loving. He loves cooking, baking and cleaning. He reads and enjoys all kinds of games. He loves animals and obstacle courses. He’s our Bear and he’s so, so loved. Thank you for making me a mommy 4 years ago buddy.

Photo credits: Megan

God’s Work

I’ve heard it said, “Your story is your story and the best way to glorify God is to share how He’s worked in your life.” There were times in my life when I was very clearly less than faithful, but God was always there. Even as a small child, whether I fully grasped the concept of faith or not, He was working in my life. I used to say, if asked, that the turning point in my life was when I started studying God’s word formally with Bible Study Fellowship (BSF), that’s when God called me to believe. I’m not sure that’s the case anymore.

I was around 18 months of age when I had a seizure that sent me to the hospital. My earliest memory is of the ambulance ride there. I remember how frightened my mother looked and how I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. I remember the electrodes stuck to my scalp for the EEG. I remember wanting to just go home and not understanding why I couldn’t go home. God was there that day, He started my memories here. Despite the chaos that was going on around me that day, I can still see His hand guiding the doctors and nurses who cared for me. The blessing, after everything that happened, was that I was going to be just fine. I’ve had no other seizure since.

I remember crawling into my sister’s crib once or twice before age 3 when she was crying during a storm and sleeping next to her so she wouldn’t be afraid.

We lost the first house I remember to bankruptcy, but God provided a new house in another part of town so that we wouldn’t be homeless. It was smaller, quite a bit smaller, two bedrooms and one bathroom vs 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms and a huge playroom for all the toys. It had everything we needed, no excess. We lived there for about 8 years. I think it was while we lived in that house, I started to realize God was more than someone I said my prayers to every night.

I went to a private Christian school from preschool to 8th grade. I was in first grade when I realized my sin grieves God. My first experience with this was during Lent, leading up to Easter. I remember asking my teacher why I felt so sad about sin, “I feel like I’m hurting Jesus when I do something naughty.” I think that would have been a great time for her to share the Gospel with me, but I also think this profound statement from a 6 year old caught her completely off guard. While I don’t remember her response, I’m pretty sure she gave my parents a phone call that evening. That’s right around the same time the “Holy Fear” set in; “Holy Fear” of God’s judgement and hell. While this was my first real experience with faith and God, I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know He was there. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t believe in God.

Around this time I started praying at night that God would give me wisdom like Solomon (it does say in the Bible that no one before or since has had the supernatural wisdom God gave Solomon, I was 6, I hadn’t gotten that far reading the Bible yet) because I wanted to be like the smart kids in class. I also started praying that God would miraculously make me an adult because I just didn’t like being a kid. Was I foolish to make these requests? Possibly, yes. Did I believe God could make me wise and instantaneously an adult? Definitely. I’m thankful He didn’t miraculously turn me into an adult at age 6, I’ve had a lifetime of learning that has given me the wisdom I kept praying for as a child. So, in the long-run, yes He did answer my prayers. In His time.

Fast forward to 8th grade confirmation class. I knew God was real, I had a firm grasp of theology, a firm grasp of faith, I believed and had faith that Jesus died for me and forgave me and that God’s grace was abundant. I understood communion and I understood that God had a plan for my life, as He does for everyone, but I had no idea what that plan was, when it would happen or if it was already in progress. I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do to get to heaven. God did all the work. God calls His people into a relationship with Himself. God provides salvation through Christ Jesus. God forgives my sin because of Christ. If you’d asked me then if I was a Christian, I’d say yes without a doubt.

High school and college were all about trying to fit in. I can honestly say the back-sliding probably began sophomore year of high school and lasted until I started studying the Bible through BSF in 2010. You could have asked me if I was a Christian at any point those years and I might have said sure or I think so, but I was absolutely not living a Christian life. Perhaps individuals looking at my life from the outside, would see that I was an avid volunteer in church youth programs, a member of the church choir, a regular church attendee, and a Bible camp employee. Impressive, right? The truth was, I was only doing so to keep up appearances. My heart was never in it. I look back on those years and I thank God for His forgiveness and His abundant grace, because I was so far from where I am now. I can honestly say, those were years of rebellion. God was still there though, protecting me from harm that could have come my way. I lived in a seedy apartment in my early adult years (it’s gotten much nicer since I lived there), robberies, shootings, rodents and drug deals were common. Much of what went on in or around the building never affected me directly.

In my late 20s, I developed some health issues. One being sudden on-set, severe vertigo attacks. They came on with no warning. They could last moments or days. They were debilitating. I can remember asking God why me? Then came the pituitary issues. Between the two diagnoses, I was in a funk. I was told having children was not an option because of the risk. I wasn’t sure I wanted to have children if I was going to be stuck having vertigo all the time. Yet God gave me peace beyond all understanding. I accepted that, despite the discomforts of vertigo, I was fine, not in any pain, just dizzy frequently. My life wasn’t threatened. I even had peace that I might never have children myself. I naturally assumed God would bless me in another way. Was I angry at myself? Yes, but that would fade. All this came about the same time I joined BSF. There was a group of women who just prayed over my health regularly. I can’t thank them enough for coming along side me to pray. In time my pituitary situation stabilized and I was given the clear to go ahead and try for children. John and I had already been married several years, and clearly God’s timing was perfect. After our first son was born, I struggled with vertigo a few more times, but quickly realized the problem was mostly gone. I’ve been left hearing loss, permanent tinnitus and pressure in my left ear. I have not had a vertigo attack in 3 years. Praise God!

God is truly so, so good. He gave us two beautiful, healthy boys, two unmedicated, low-risk, out of hospital births, a stable marriage, a lovely church home, and for me, specifically, He has restored my health and renewed my faith. He’s done all the work in me. For that, I owe Him my life and all the praise.

I may not have a dramatic or glamorous story, but it’s the story I’ve been given by God. He created me, gave me the family I have, and as long as there is breath in me, He’s going to have work for me to complete. When I look back, over the 37 years I’ve been given, I can see God guiding me step by step. Even in the years of rebellion, He never left me. I’ve come a long way. No longer full of anger and resentment over my past (that’s the beauty of repentance, it’s healing for the soul). I look toward a future with God and family. I live by faith, through grace, and it’s a gift from God. I am a Christian, a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, and a friend.

10 Year Anniversary Recap

For those of you who follow us regularly, we’ve had an extremely busy last few weeks. So I took some time away from posting to focus on family and every day life around here. Between appointments for the boys, picking up a new evening routine, (we introduced library night and indoor playground night) my 37th birthday and our 10 year anniversary, it’s been really busy around here! Now that I’ve gotten caught up on life and my Bible Study lesson, I feel like I can write about our anniversary.

It’s been 10 years! Holy buckets that few by quickly! In these last ten years, we’ve purchased a home, sold cars, bought a car, changed churches, John graduated from college, we had two children and survived a house fire. One thing that has stayed the same through it all, we’ve kept God first. We both notice when we put ourselves/life/stuff before God things don’t go quite right. If God is first, things may not always go smoothly, but we’re better prepared to handle things when with God as our foundation.

If you were to ask me for marriage advice, I’m not going to tell you anything you haven’t already heard. When you get married, you’re no longer the only one you have to think about. There’s another person whose opinion and feelings you need to consider before making decisions. When you have children there are more feelings and more little people who come before your wants and desires because they have needs too. In short: marriage and family teaches you how to be selfless. Sometimes this part is easier for wives than husbands, but not always. Every couple is different.

So what do you do for a milestone anniversary? An overnight was out of the question as I’m still nursing our 15 month old over night. We opted for a date day. Which honestly was very welcomed because we haven’t been out of the house without kids in a very long time. We did what any normal couple would do without children: ran errands and ate copious am

John and I getting hitched, 10 years ago!

ounts of sushi. There’s something so satisfying about sitting down to a meal and not having to listen to bodily functions and whining about bodily functions at the table, mixed with complaints about having to eat something a 3 year old would prefer not to eat. It was glorious. Many thanks to my sweet friend Megan for watching the boys while we took time to just be us.

Am I looking forward to the next ten years? You bet! I get to do life with John and we get to watch the two boys we brought into this family grow. Here’s to the next 10 years!

Shortbread Crisp

It’s fall y’all! Everyone’s got some kind of pumpkin spice something in their home and baking season is just beginning! This season, I was blessed to be able to work on this project with the lovely Megan and Naomi over at Happily Dwell. Cooking/baking is my love language. I absolutely love sharing recipes and my kitchen know-how with anyone who asks.

Clearly, he was ready to try apple crisp.

We love baked goods in our house. Whether it’s cookies, bread, pie, or crisp; we just love everything there is about baking. The time we all spend in the kitchen as a family, putting our recipe together, baking it in a warm oven (heating the house at the same time), the aroma of vanilla, cinnamon and nutmeg slowly creeping through the house, the joy and laughter we have sitting at the table enjoying the warm dessert fresh from the oven. Fall doesn’t get better than this!

This Shortbread Crisp recipe is so easy to make, and delicious, you’ll be wanting to make it every week.

I like to use the bottom of my measuring cup to level the crust prior to baking, giving the filling a flat surface to rest.

For the crust:

2 cups flour

1/4 cup powdered sugar

1 cup (two sticks) chilled butter

For the filling:

6 cups sliced fruit (apple/peach/pear work great for this recipe)

1/2 cup sugar

2-3 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp nutmeg

Topping:

1 1/2 cups oats

1 cup flour

1 1/4 sticks of softened butter

1 cup sugar

2 tsp cinnamon

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In a large bowl, combine crust ingredients. Use a piecrust cutter until it resembles pea-sized crumbs. Press into uncreased 9×13 cake pan. Bake 15 minutes.

Prepare fruit, add spices, and
pour over baked crust. Reduce oven to 350 degrees.

Combine crumb topping ingredients and sprinkle evenly over fruit. Place back into oven for 35-45 minutes, until sides of topping brown and filling is soft.

There you have it. The easiest Shortbread Crisp recipe out there. Enjoy Lovelies!

Boundary Waters

Summer, 1977: Newlyweds Stephen and Jodi Laliberte agreed to attempt their first Boundary Waters Canoe Area trip with some friends from college. Despite surviving a terrifying thunderstorm in their tents, they had a wonderful experience, and it has grown into a family tradition.

After a long hiatus, in 1995 it was with great reluctance that my dad first brought eleven-year-old me and my ten-year-old brother back to the same spot – East Pike lake in the eastern Arrowhead Trail. We had been camping a few times before, but never anything like this.

My brother and I began to realize that this was no ordinary trip. We went off path at Gooseberry Falls, swimming in the backwashes and climbing up to a precarious cave. We gorged at Sven and Ole’s – even having cold pizza for breakfast in the Grand Marais camp ground the next morning. Dad still notes how wide-eyed incredulous we were when he let us escape the tiny cab of the manual pickup to ride in the truck bed down the final stretch of dirt road.

The trip nearly derailed when we pulled our canoe up to our first ever portage. It was a narrow, rocky trail twisting up and down the half mile ridge between two lakes through a mosquito infested forest. This is an incredibly challenging environment to shepherd children through in any circumstance, and in this case dad was out of practice and not in as good of shape. Top that off with our choice of vehicle. We owned an old, over-sized fiberglass canoe – easily double the weight of a typical Kevlar portaging canoe.

It turned out that dad was mostly unable to solo-carry the giant boat. Then you have two whiney, inexperienced children attempting their first slog through the dangerous forest in the heat and insect clouds. But with much encouragement from dad, we were determined to make it in. So he took the front and put the two of us on the back of the boat. For the better part of the portage, we heaved it along in brief, violent bursts complaining all the way.

We toughed it out and made it in. We emerged soaked in sweat and bug spray. Dad surprised us again when he led us in stripping down to our underwear to swim in the cool, brilliantly clear water of East Pike. Jumping in a lake has never felt so good. I have also upheld this silly little tradition on each of my successive trips.

We proceeded to the same campsite our parents had used a decade prior. It is a gorgeous rocky clearing in the pine forest. A shoulder of granite juts out over the water looking down on a babbling brook flowing out to the south that lulled us to sleep every night. The only man-made objects present are the Forestry’s steel grate over the campfire for cooking and the small plastic circle 100 yards back in the forest over the latrine pit.

We all love to fish. That’s our primary goal on most of these trips. Though we’d done it a lot before this, we weren’t typically taking off our fish at this point. This became a bit of an issue as we tested the waters. Within seconds of dropping our nightcrawlers over the side, my brother and I were simultaneously reeling in good-sized small mouth bass. These things are some of the best pound-for-pound fighters in fresh water. Also, in a lake this incredibly clear and clean, they are as delicious as walleye. We later termed this the “frenzy” trip. We could seldom count to 10 before there was another fish on. Dad heroically assisted both of us so frequently that he was mostly unable to drop a line himself. All the while through our glee he reiterated just how uncommonly special this situation was.

We fished with zeal for days. We swam more, cooked over the fire and lazed in the sun. Though it wasn’t without its hiccups, we have nothing but pleasant memories of our first Boundary Waters experience. We didn’t just have a good time, we came out mentally and physically tougher. We came out a closer family.

We returned two years later much better prepared and equipped. The fish were not in frenzy this time, but still easy to come by. Then one day I was dangling a worm in 60 feet of water while dozing in the middle of a hot day. We were setup for bass – light rod with 8lb test, worm on a small hook, no leader. I was awoken to my rod tightening on a snag. This seemed unlikely as the bottom of the lake is nothing but rocks, and there are no sunken trees that far out. I slowly hauled the snag up from the bottom; when it finally broke the surface, it sprung to life! For the next 30 minutes, my canoe was pulled around the lake by a 43” northern pike. By a series of miracles, my line did not break, and I eventually landed the monster. He was lip-hooked and easily could have bitten through the line at any time. We took some pictures and let him go. And I have been hunting big pike obsessively ever since.

There were many more trips over the years involving all 6 of my family members and spouses and friends. Each trip produced another lifetime memory. I came face to face with a black bear (he ran off when I yelled); my brother and friends were charged by a moose (thankfully while safe in a canoe); my little sister had wolves in her camp on our coldest trip; we did 8 portages through a river system; we’ve gone days without seeing other people, climbed over beaver dams (me in my underwear – I later purchased quick-dry pants), pulled treasures from the deeps snorkeling and seen all manner of wildlife; and of course, we’ve produced many, many more fish stories.

Two years ago was particularly special. Dad was just 6 months out of a complete bone marrow transplant for his multiple myeloma cancer. He had almost no immune system and was on heavy chemo. Hiking and camping with no phone service, hours from the nearest help was an extremely dangerous idea. We both feared it could be our last trip together, so we made it happen. I was able to start repaying him for years of doing everything for me. I carried boats, tied lines, did camp chores and cleaned fish. It was a beautiful trip, and I’m very pleased to say it was not our last. He continues to improve, and we just got back from this year’s trip. I’ll keep on doing it as long as we’re able. I can’t wait to take my boys a few years from now.

A Christian in a Millennial World (Part One)

Don’t Call me a Millennial

In order to talk about what it’s like being a Christian in a Millennial’s world, we must first define Millennial. According to the Pew Research Center, a Millennial is someone born “between 1981 and 1996 and the first generation to come of age in the new millennium.” However, if one were to ask an “older Millennial” (myself included) if they felt like they were a Millennial, most of them would say no. There are a group of us, born between 1981 and 1985 who just don’t fit in with the Millennial group. We are the last generation of adults who were around before internet and email, before cell phones, before helicopter parenting. A great number of us have parents who are still married to each other. Most of us had required typing class (on a real typewriter) in high school rather than its replacement: computer science class. The last generation to be “free-range.” The last generation of kids who were able to go out and play in the morning, come home for family dinner, leave to play with friends again only to come home for the night when the street lights turned on. No one had a cell phone, we fought our siblings for the cordless phone when we wanted to talk with our friends. Most families did not have a home computer much less internet access. Our report papers were still hand-written, even in high school, unless specifically requested to be “word processed.” We passed notes in class. Teachers confiscated “beepers” or pagers when they were found on students because, “No one should be contacting you while you’re in school. School is where you come to learn, it’s not a social club.”

Then came Columbine and 9/11; nobody felt safe anymore. Shattered the perception that children were generally safe in their neighborhoods. I was a junior in high school when the Columbine Massacre happened. The following year we started lock-down drills for the first time. I was a sophomore in college when the nation was rocked by 9/11. We could see lines of cars waiting to gas up from our dorm room window. We had been living in a time of relative peace, since the Gulf War.

Most Millennials left the Church as they graduated high school and never returned. Citing that organized religion is a thing of the past, closed-minded, even bigoted. Yet there is this group of “older Millennials” who have returned. And still many, who never left.

Younger Millennials, many of whom, graduated college right as the Great Recession took hold of the job market (2008), making it extremely difficult to find a good paying job with benefits that would allow them to pay back all the student loans they took out to pay for the highly expensive college education they were told they needed. Older Millennials, many of them, were able to land jobs after college (2003-2006) before the job market took a nose-dive.

Millennials have shaped the faith-culture we see today. They have resurrected the “Spiritualist” movement (popular between 1840s-1920s), there are more ghost hunting and cryptozoological hunting reality shows on television now than there were less than 20 years ago. More people say they are “spiritual” rather than ascribe to any formal religious beliefs. Most people believe: “all roads lead to heaven” or that if one is “basically a good person they will get to heaven.” The newest theory is that when we die we “reach a higher vibration” if we lived a “good” life, then we get to come back as someone else.

Millennials have also been labeled disrespectful, lazy, know-it-alls, unable to do things for themselves, technology obsessed, entitled, God-less, and self-absorbed. They believe they have to be unique, expressive in some way. If they aren’t doing this, that makes them somehow “less.” Heaven for bid society frown upon them because they take time off to raise a family.

Those of us in our mid to late 30s care less about how many social media followers we have. If we have Facebook, it’s to share photos of our children so that family, who may not get to see them daily, can see what our little ones are doing. We still prefer talking on the phone with friends and family over texting. We also prefer to visit in person rather than see what everyone is up to on a computer screen.

That being said, I was taught to respect others. God comes first, above everything else. If you fail at something, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and try again or try something new. I’ve failed at a lot of things in life, but I’ve never given up and expected anyone else to “take the reigns” for me. If something needs to be done, do it yourself, don’t expect others to do things for you. I gave up a career path in order to raise my children and I don’t regret it one bit. I’ve never expected anything less of myself, except to be who I was created to be.

Stay tuned for Part Two: Spiritualism

http://www.pewresearch.org/topics/millennials/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spiritualism

When the House is on Fire

March 5th, nap time, blizzard raging outside, I had just popped a load of laundry into the dryer and got it started. I came upstairs to sip some coffee and hang laundry to dry on racks. A loud BANG sounded from the laundry room like a brick had just turned over in the dryer. I ran down to check things out. I pulled everything out of the dryer to see what made the noise when I noticed a flame coming out from below the lint trap. I pulled the lint trap to see better. Bigger flames. I knew we’d just had the dryer exhaust vent cleaned, it’s not from the lint. 30 seconds had passed and I had to make a choice: Do I try toput this out myself or do I get my babiesand call the fire department? That voice in your head that screams at you to PROTECT YOUR BABIES kicked in. My inner MAMA BEAR roared to life. I ran up, grabbed both children out of their beds and ran out to the garage, all while on the phone with the 911 operator. The laundry room was certainly on fire, the rest of my house was fine, we were insured, it’s just stuff. Black smoke billowed from the open garage (probably saving the rest of my house from the worst damage). The fire department showed up moments later as did my husband (he was my second phone call) and a wonderful neighbor saw me

outside with the boys and brought us into her home.

The fire department put the fire out right away and after a short time the fire chief reaffirmed my thought that it was indeed not the lint that caused the fire. The motor of the dryer burned itself out, going up in a blaze of glory on the way. The most surprising thing to me, was that our gas line didn’t ignite when the motor started on fire. Most people in Minnesota have gas dryers. They’re energy efficient and run better for longer. Never in my whole life have I been more thankful to be alive! To think that the fire could have been much worse if the gas line had gone, my children and I would not be here today. Praise God for His protection!

Things we’ve learned through the insurance process:

After calling the fire department and spouse/roommate/mom call your insurance company with pen and paper in hand.
Be prepared to be on the phone for a time.
You’ll have to give a statement to the fire chief to account for what happened.
You’ll be saying, “Thank you!” more times than you did at your wedding to everyone who helps you that day.
You may or may not be recommended a restoration service for fire damage clean up, if not Google will be your BFF for the next few hours.
Everything after this will take time, be patient, remember that your insurance will pay to restore your home.
Ask all the questions! There will be questions on how things get paid, who gets paid, when things get paid, timeline for completion of projects…etc. The list goes on. Don’t be afraid to call your case handler to ask all the questions that come up. That’s what they’re there for.

The next 8 weeks we stayed with family. Insurance gave us the option to stay in a hotel, but with two little ones, that amount of time in a hotel with no toys is a nightmare. We were blessed to be able to stay where there was an over abundance of toys (I still think we didn’t even play with half the toys that were available after 8 weeks).

God was definitely watching over us! We had posted to family and friends on social media that we were safe and no one was hurt in the house fire that first night. Within hours a friend of John’s called him to see if he could be of service. He owned a restoration company! The weight of trying to find someone to help us was lifted off our shoulders immediately! John met him over at our house the following morning with our insurance case manager. That same morning the damage was assessed, and some of our belongings were taken to be cleaned at an emergency dry cleaning service and were then delivered to us where we were staying (so we would have clean clothes to wear for the duration).

Over the next few weeks all of our belongings were packed up and removed to be cleaned. Our house was cleaned top to bottom (my spring cleaning done for me for the first time ever!). All the wood work was cleaned and varnished, walls and ceilings were repainted, colors that I was able to choose myself and our house had all new wall-to-wall carpeting (I was able to choose that too). There were things that we were unable to keep as they cannot be cleaned: mattresses, some baby items, our sleeper sofa and all the food in our kitchen. Insurance pays to replace those, they also paid to replace the washer and dryer.

Be prepared to unpack for about a week! Call your recycling/garbage company to notify them of the extra boxes you’ll have out by the bins the next weeks.

Moving Home: When we were able to move home (it felt like we were away for an eternity), the same company comes back to clean and dust one more time before they delivered all our belongings. Everything was boxed up. Everything. They put our furniture back where it came from and all the boxeswere labeled and placed in the rooms where the items were originally. It felt like a combination of Christmas

and moving into a new home. Our house smelled new, it felt new, it looked new and I was inspired to decorate all over again.

Little Surprises: 10 years ago or so, when we got married and bought our house, we purchased a dining set so we would have somewhere to eat. On a night of hosting friends, we discovered one of our dining chairs was broken. Not knowing how it happened, we just placed it in the garage thinking we’d get around to fixing it, where it collected dust. The restoration company FIXED the chair. Yes, they fixed it, better than new! The clothes cleaning company owner, Curt, paid attention to detail. All our items were pressed perfectly and on hangers when we received them. He noticed I used a baby detergent on the boys’ clothes. He had all their items rinsed with that detergent before drying and delivering them. He personally delivered items to us when they were cleaned. We felt so cared for by everyone. We’re usually the ones taking care of everyone else, it felt good and different to be on this side of the situation.

New Dryer: We found out we were covered for both a new washer and dryer. The fire was so hot in the

New washer and dryer we were able to purchase.

dryer that it melted the side of our washer. For the first time in my life I actually enjoy doing laundry! I do so many loads of laundry a week, with a teething baby and potty training a toddler (post on potty training soon to come), and a husband who needs his workout clothes washed weekly, a new washer/dryer set was something this Mama needed. I didn’t even know I needed it! In the past I never would have left the door open to the laundry room for anyone to see. We called it “The Cave of Despair” it was just THAT icky in there. The whole room is brand new! We can’t even tell that there was a horrible fire in that room!

Since we were unable to keep our mattresses and sofa, insurance covered to replace them. We found that shopping at Ikea was the best solution. We were able to get more bang for our buck. What we were able to get was nicer than what we had before the fire!

My last task is to start baking bread and put a bunch of pans of lasagna together to bring to our sweet neighbor who took us in that day and bring 3 or 4 pans to the fire station just down the street. As an Italian, we love on people with food. We thank them with food, we celebrate with food…we just kind of do life with food.

My life lesson brings me back to Job; we went through a hard time. We had to persevere and trust that God had us in His hands and that He would take care of everything. When we did that, we were able to see His work and give Him the glory. We lost everything for a time, only to have it all returned better than new! Better than before. Rejoicing in the blessing, resting in His grace and appreciating everything we have been given all the more.

-Lauren

Companies mentioned:

Restoration Professional – http://www.restpro.com/

Emergency Restoration Clean’n’Press –http://www.cleannpress.com/services/emergency-restoration

Electronic Restoration Services – https://ers-us.com/