Ocho.

I'm sure you know what that word means. It's Spanish for eight. As in, my baby is eight months old.

Whoa.

WHOA.

Can we just freeze time for a second? My heavens. It's flying by at lightning speed and we're not going to get any of it back.

Enough of that sappy drivel. We're about due for a picture, aren't we?

My, we're looking festive! Gobble, gobble!

I just love this little cuddly, squishy guy. His mobility has taken off and he's now full-on crawling every-which-where he wants to go. Even up the stairs, by golly. Thankfully, we have a gate at the top of the stairs so as to prevent any Humpty Dumpty situations from occurring; however, access at the bottom is still unrestricted. So naturally, he makes a little beeline straight to the stairs whenever I put him down. It's terribly cute to watch him wiggle his way up the stairs, Bubby cheering him on at the top. But I can't imagine how bad it'd be if he were to tumble down all 16 of those steps. As a result, I've taken to putting him in his high chair whenever we're downstairs and I am not able to hold him; in turn, he has taken to crying pitifully whenever I put him in his high chair. I suppose it's time to install a second gate so he can roam freely again. Poor kid's going to start dreading our lower level before too long.

Baby Guy also started saying "Mum Mum" whenever he wants me. Which is pretty often. So, I get to hear him say "Mum Mum" throughout the day and it usually melts my heart. Except when it's coming from down the hall at 3:00 a.m.

Speaking of which, I need your help, Dear Readers. My sweet baby, bless his soul, decided at some point during the last month or two that it's good to get up at some unholy hour every morning. Usually it's between midnight and 4:00. I am not used to babies who do not sleep peacefully for 12 hours straight at night. I realize that makes me sound like a spoiled brat, and I'm sorry for that. I know I'm lucky and I do not envy those of you who have had to routinely get up in the middle of the night with babies. I suppose I had it coming all along. Anyway, Baby Guy started sleeping through the night at 8 weeks, just like his sister, and showed no sign of stopping until recently. I chalked it up to illness and teething, but now? I can't figure it out. All the teeth have popped through (we're talking four top teeth in one week!) and he's as healthy as a horse now. Maybe his little internal clock is programmed now? Maybe he's training to work future graveyard shifts? In any case, I want my old baby back!

Help?

My favorite Thanksgiving ... side?

I'm not really sure what to call my favorite Thanksgiving dish, because it's not really a side but more like a dessert. However, most people have pie for dessert for Thanksgiving, and this is not a pie.

But it's delicious, anyway. So I'm making it.

(Besides, I don't really like pie, anyway. At least, not the crust. Don't hate me.)

I made Our Best Bites' (love those ladies!) candied coconut-topped sweet potatoes last year for my family's Thanksgiving feast and they got rave reviews. My Granny was particularly fond of them and even mentioned them a few times during her final days on earth. Yes, she thought of them even on her deathbed. They are just that good.

So, if you want to impress everyone at dinner, whip up these babies. Just don't tell anyone what's in them, especially if they're on a diet.

And before you start whining, "But there aren't any marshmallows!!", trust me ... they don't need them.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Show your gratitude by doing good.

Giving thanks.

I've been mulling over this post for some time now. It's November, which means everyone is writing posts about what they're thankful for and how thankful they are for it. Which is nice, wonderful and perfect for this time of year, except I can't bring myself to write that kind of post.

As you may have guessed, it's just not my style.

Instead of talking about what I'm thankful for, I'd rather write about why I'm thankful.

I have it so good. I really do. I've been blessed with so much. But I often become bogged down by all the "haves" of the world. The people who seem to have it all. I think, "Man, I wish I had THAT" repeatedly throughout the day. And by "THAT," I mean silly, inconsequential things that might make my life a little better, a little more convenient and a little more fun to look at from the outside. But maybe not.

Truthfully? I'm not starving, I'm not dying of an incurable disease. We're clothed, clean and full. We DO have it all.

And even if I did somehow get all the millions of things I want, would I be satisfied? Can you ever be satisfied by earthly possessions? Undoubtedly, no. They wear out, they break, they become consumed, they go out of style.

I don't mean to say it's wrong or evil to have nice possessions beyond your needs. I don't live in a four-walled shack, for one thing. But I do think it's wrong not to be grateful for every little thing that makes its way into our lives.

A senior couple in my church congregation, the Leavitts, recently spent some time in West Africa doing missionary work for our church. During part of their mission, they lived in the country of Benin, which borders Togo and Nigeria. Sister Leavitt recently told our congregation a story from her time in Benin that had me weeping with gratitude and feeling rather ashamed of how much I have.

While in Benin, she and Brother Leavitt visited an orphanage called Village of Hope, which provides a home for abandoned children. Most of the children have AIDS and as such are not wanted by extended family members. One of the orphanage caretakers met with the Leavitts and told them he liked to give the children three meals a day. However, because Benin is no longer at war, they are not eligible to receive aid from international food providers. Now, the children at Village of Hope only get one meal each day: about a fourth cup of rice topped with some red sauce.

Upon hearing this, I imagined my sweet children eating only a small clump of rice each day and I couldn't stop the tears from welling up in my eyes.

The Leavitts, kind souls that they are, contacted their family members here in the states and together, they came up with a large sum of money with which to buy food for Village of Hope. With the money, they purchased enough food for each of the orphans to have three meals a day for about two months, she said. Things like tomato paste, yam flour, oil, and dehydrated fish (which Sister Leavitt said smelled terrible).

When the food came in, Sister Leavitt said it was a jubilant occasion at the orphanage. The children were so excited to see the food. When the truck of dehydrated fish came in, she noticed the children ran to the truck, jumped onto the fish and pressed their noses into it. She asked another woman what the children were doing and the woman said, "They love the smell of the fish. To them, it means food."

Imagine being so grateful to see food, even food that stinks, that you could not help but throw your whole body on top of it and embrace it. That right there is gratitude. The very embodiment of thanksgiving.

Robert Brault said, "There is no such thing as gratitude unexpressed. If it is unexpressed, it is plain, old-fashioned ingratitude." He's right. At some point, we have to look around, locate the source of our bounty and thank it. Thank Him. That act -- saying "thank you" -- takes humility. It says, "I couldn't get this on my own; I needed your help." It's not always easy. But if we fail to do it, we become selfish, miserable ingrates.

I've realized in my life the more grateful I am for what I have, the more I receive. And when I'm weighed down by all of my impossible desires, I just stay that way. Stuck in my wants and feeling unhappy for no good reason with a big ol' stomach ache to boot. What a sad way to feel.

Since listening to the Leavitt's sermon, I've made a resolve to appreciate what I already have and not get caught up in what I want. To be happy living simply and frugally. To wholeheartedly embrace what I'm given as those children embraced the stinky fish. And to always thank the source of my blessings, whether it be a family member, a kind friend, a stranger or God.

Always God.

Going raw.

I promise this post is not as scary as it sounds. Don't un-follow me until you've read it all. Ha.

Let's just talk for a minute about food, shall we? Modern humans ... we have such a bizarre view of food. We use it as a reward, we withhold it as punishment. We entertain ourselves with it. We abuse it when we feel bad. We load perfectly good foods up with salt, sugar and oil so they'll taste better. As if they're not good enough on their own.

It's kind of sad to think about, really.

Now, don't get me wrong. I looooove cake, cookies, candy, donuts, chips, Indian fry bread, French fries and all those oh-so-yummy things. I do. I am not here to tell you to stop eating them.

I just think we should all eat more fruits and veggies and less junk food. That's all.

A little backstory: When I had Smush, I decided I wanted to breastfeed him. Mostly for money-saving purposes. I only nursed Bubs for a month and a half due to some intestinal difficulties she had. With Baby Guy, I was determined to make it work. My bank account depended on it.

Well, that little stinker decided to be all lactose-intolerant on me. Sheeeeeeeesh.

This time, I decided to go ahead and cut all dairy out of my diet instead of putting him on lactose-free formula. Dairy is a common culprit in causing infant digestion issues like reflux, gas and diarrhea.

I tried going dairy-free with Bubs and it didn't help her issues, so the formula was a life-saver in that case. But with Smush, eliminating dairy worked like a charm.

For BOTH of us.

Since I've already told you everything about my lady parts, I don't feel the least bit sheepish to say I have had problems, um, going #2 since I was a wee child. I have tried everything to no avail. I just could not go sometimes. Ok, no, a lot of times. Pretty much every day. It was awful.

Well, guess what finally worked for me? Abstaining from dairy. Who would have thought?

Anyway. Enough about my digestive tract. When I went off dairy, I ran into a little problem. I had to replace a lot of my favorite past snacks (yogurt, ice cream and cheese) with other things. Instead of crackers and such, I opted for carrot sticks, apples, bananas, pears, peaches and grapes. But when you're nursing, you have to keep your calories up so your body can produce milk, so I found myself eating quite a bit of these plant foods. Not surprisingly, they (along with going dairy-free) have also helped move things along in my innards. How nice!

Not only that, but I noticed when I started eating more fruits and veggies, I started to feel better in general. I have more energy, I sleep better and my skin looks really good. I don't get bloated anymore.

Recently, I started reading about raw food diets. Like most trendy philosophies and lifestyles I encounter, I've decided to take some of it to heart but abandon the rest. Like, I'm sorry, but I will not eat uncooked meat. EVER. Sushi is about as close as I'll get, and even that scares me a little. I am not going to soak my rice overnight so I can eat it. And I cannot just forego all baked goods. Can't do it! Not to mention, what happens if someone offers me a pumpkin chocolate chip cookie? "No thanks; I only eat RAW food."

NO. WAY. They would cry, and so would I.

But here's what I can do (and have done): eat more raw fruits and veggies.

It's actually easy once you take the plunge. You just have to BUY fruits and vegetables and NOT BUY other snack foods. That way, when you've got that mid-morning urge to eat a cookie or something processed, you'll eat a handful of grapes and a banana instead. And your body will love you for it.

For the past two weeks, I've eaten non-raw meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner and ate raw fruits and veggies for my snacks. Basically: normal foods for my meals and raw foods for snacks. It's amazing how great I feel. And it's not that hard. I did notice that I get hungry more quickly, but that's rather simple to fix: just eat MORE. Remember, things that are good for you don't have as many calories and are easier for your body to digest, so you have to eat more of them than you do processed foods in order to feel full.

Another thing I've done recently is to make almost all our grains whole. We use whole-wheat pasta whenever possible and I only buy whole-wheat bread (I hope to get a wheat grinder soon so I can make my own bread. Nothing smells quite as good as a loaf of homemade bread in the oven. Mmmmm...).

Of course, I'll still indulge in a donut or a white roll or whatever occasionally. And it's OK to eat out once in a while as a "treat." But I don't feel bad about doing these things because usually, I put good things into my body. And it's funny, because the more "good" food I eat, the less "bad" food I crave. Plus, I've learned to love foods I once hated, like raw broccoli! I could barely gag it down a year ago.

Soon, I am going to tell you all about Bountiful Baskets. It's a local, volunteer-run food co-op I recently discovered and I love it. It's a cheap, easy way to get a ton of fresh produce.

Anyway, see if you can make half of your foods raw fruits and veggies. Or maybe if you currently eat very little of them, start at 25 percent. Eat two raw food snacks a day and see if you notice an improvement in how you feel.

Remember, you don't have to change overnight. As Dr. Leo Marvin says, "Baby steps."

(P.S. -- What About Bob? One of my favorite movies of all time, ever.)