Well, it's been a while. This pregnancy with a toddler who no longer naps is not allowing me to get much research or writing done.
I did, however, find time to FINALLY make a detangler for my hair. I love the homemade shampoo, but was finding that my hair was constantly knotty. I could brush it, and 2 seconds later it was all tangles again. Not fun. So I did a little experimenting. I found a few that looked interesting that used marshmallow root, but finding marshmallow root was a bit of a challenge and since I have the patience of a toddler, ordering it online wasn't an option because I wanted to make it RIGHT NOW.
So, this is the recipe I came up with. And I have to be honest I'm quite surprised at how well it works. As a reminder, my shampoo recipe is:
1 cup hot water, steep 6 chamomile tea bags for 20 minutes
1 tbsp honey
1 1/2 tbsps coconut milk
1/4 cup castille soap
5 -10 drops sage (for quick, thick hair growth)- optional
So, for the detangler/ conditioner, I took a flax seed recipe I found and added a few of my own things, and it's working like a charm! Here it is:
2 cups water
on low heat, add the contents of 2 bags of Nettle tea and 1/4 cup of flax seed. keep the heat on until it thickens and forms a gel - the longer it heats the thicker it gets.
turn off heat and let it cool. Then strain it through either pantyhose or a cheese cloth. Put it in a spray bottle or container and add 2 tbsps apple cider vinegar and any essential oil drops you would like for a nice scent.
I'm finding that my spray bottles are too wimpy to handle the thickness of the gel. You can water it down or just put it in a different container and not spray it. I use this as a conditioner in the shower. Not sure what the outcome would be if you sprayed it on wet hair and just left it in. But works like a charm for me!
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
If all these diets work, why is everyone still obese?
Seriously America? Seriously?
I thought we were getting smarter. I thought the food movement was really taking hold and that we were starting to see some real change. Perhaps I was delusional.
Because here I sit, once again, HORRIFIED at the so called professionals who are doling out diet and health advice, taking advantage of everyone's New Years' Resolutions to get skinny. UGH.
SO. MUCH. BULLSHIT.
It started slowly. In crept the Eggbeaters commercials...you could save 50 calories by ingesting this chemically altered semblance of an egg! It doesn't matter that the egg is pretty much the PERFECT FOOD (especially cage free organic eggs). It doesn't matter that all those reports that eggs were too high in cholesterol have been shot down. It doesn't matter that you will get zero healthy benefits, and all the lovely side effects of eating hormone and antibiotic filled, chemically altered nonsense. But you my friend just saved 50 WHOLE CALORIES so HALLELUJAH!
Then of course, there are the 75 times a day, how many celebrities can we get up in here commercials for Nutrisystem, Jenny Craig, Weight Watchers. Eat our craptastic, chemical meals, feel like you're dying on the inside, and maybe lose some weight! Look, all these famous people lost weight this way....it had nothing at all to do with their personal trainers, personal chefs, or the fact that they get paid millions to look good.....
Then I read the lasted issue of Glamour. A certified nutritionist (NUTRITION!?!?!) suggested that since sugar is so bad for you, that everyone should switch to diet soda. Ummmm.....what rock did you just crawl out from under? The studies have been everywhere. The effects of artificial sweeteners, the damage it causes, the fact that it makes you GAIN WEIGHT. Riiiiiight. Let's all follow this advice.
And then, the dagger to my heart. The Chew. SOLD. OUT. I'm sure that has a lot more to do with the people that run the network than it does with the hosts of the show, but that one upset me more than anything else. They've decided to run the competition for who will be the next weight watchers chef. I was already disappointed that they've taken on this "cans" thing, saying you don't need fresh ingredients, just use the shit you find in cans. No. Thank. You. And then to add insult to injury. The competition began with 2 chefs who sucked the joy out of the food they were cooking. And the piece de resistance? The rep from WW said "And you could substitute the parmesan cheese for a fat free cheese". Scuse me what now!?!?! Mario Batali just died a thousand deaths. Michael Symon bowed his head in shame. Even Daphne Oz was shaking her head. These people know better.
FAT FREE CHEESE IS OF THE DEVIL!
THE DEVIL!
Should we all start eating "I can't believe it's not butter" too? Why don't we suck down some transfats while we're at it? Maybe they can bring back those fat free O'lean potato chips. You know the ones. That cause anal leakage. Right there on the package, it says it. ANAL. LEAKAGE.
Have we not learned that if the food was created in a lab then *perhaps* it's not the best choice for our bodies? Have we not seen the number of cancer patients in this country sky rocket? The number of kids with diseases, behavior issues, food allergies, etc etc etc. The number of people with diabetes?
I'm almost too tired of it all to be pissed. Just when people start to speak truth about our food, where it comes from, what it does to our bodies, some big stupid corporation comes in with crap tons of money and tries to wipe out the evidence. Simply to line their pockets. Why is this nation so greedy? Why don't they have these issues in other countries? How is it that ours is the ONLY ONE that doesn't ban this garbage? And why do some of the same companies make food for these other countries that do not contain this crap???
But I'm digressing. Right now, I'm aiming it all at the diet industry. The multi-billion dollar industry. What many people don't seem to understand is that these are MONEY MAKING MACHINES. They are designed to FAIL. Because if they worked, they would put themselves out of business. If they worked, there would not be an obesity epidemic. If they worked, you would not constantly feel guilty about eating, about enjoying your food, about enjoying your LIFE without a little message hovering over your shoulder, saying you're not good enough, not thin enough.
Points don't allow you to listen to what your body really needs to eat. Packaged meals full of chemicals don't give you enough nutrients to stay healthy. The food they push is not filling enough, nor TASTY enough, to keep you satisfied. 4 bites of REAL pasta with REAL butter and REAL cheese? That will kill that craving for mac and cheese more than eating anything else. And, if you buy the right ingredients, it's actually GOOD FOR YOU! Butter made from grass fed cows actually is good for you. Ever wonder why so many kids today need an orthodontist? Lack of Vitamin K in our diets. And no wonder. It comes from eating organ meats (liver, etc) and full fat soft cheeses. All because some idiots in the 80's and 90's tried to convince us that eating fat made us fat. And suddenly all of our food became LITE.
Let's once again look to our friends from Europe. They've been around a looooong time. And their food? Is GOOD. EXCELLENT. INCREDIBLE. THE REASON WE GO TO THERE. And without fail, don't you ask yourself how it is that everyone there seems to be in really good shape. And there's not a gym in site? These folks know how to eat. They take their time (3 hours minimum for a good dinner). They savor their food. They use real ingredients. They don't feel guilty.
The point is. REAL. FOOD. Eat it. feel better. look better. cure your body using food not drugs. eat food that only has a few ingredients, all of them recognizable. if it's not something you'd cook with, don't eat it. Make as much food as you can yourself. and not with those garbage shortcuts in a package. I'm looking at you, bread dough that doesn't need any rise time.....
seriously dude, when did we get too lazy to mix together 3 extra ingredients in order to make pancakes? Bisquick is not necessary!
Retrain our brains. whole milk. full fat cheese. eggs. extra virgin olive oil. full fat greek yogurt with honey and fresh fruit. (all organic, obvs). EAT THESE THINGS. savor them. Pasta with just one ingredient (semolina flour). top it with all the fresh parm & grass fed butter you want. Do it. Now.
Loves.
I thought we were getting smarter. I thought the food movement was really taking hold and that we were starting to see some real change. Perhaps I was delusional.
Because here I sit, once again, HORRIFIED at the so called professionals who are doling out diet and health advice, taking advantage of everyone's New Years' Resolutions to get skinny. UGH.
SO. MUCH. BULLSHIT.
It started slowly. In crept the Eggbeaters commercials...you could save 50 calories by ingesting this chemically altered semblance of an egg! It doesn't matter that the egg is pretty much the PERFECT FOOD (especially cage free organic eggs). It doesn't matter that all those reports that eggs were too high in cholesterol have been shot down. It doesn't matter that you will get zero healthy benefits, and all the lovely side effects of eating hormone and antibiotic filled, chemically altered nonsense. But you my friend just saved 50 WHOLE CALORIES so HALLELUJAH!
Then of course, there are the 75 times a day, how many celebrities can we get up in here commercials for Nutrisystem, Jenny Craig, Weight Watchers. Eat our craptastic, chemical meals, feel like you're dying on the inside, and maybe lose some weight! Look, all these famous people lost weight this way....it had nothing at all to do with their personal trainers, personal chefs, or the fact that they get paid millions to look good.....
Then I read the lasted issue of Glamour. A certified nutritionist (NUTRITION!?!?!) suggested that since sugar is so bad for you, that everyone should switch to diet soda. Ummmm.....what rock did you just crawl out from under? The studies have been everywhere. The effects of artificial sweeteners, the damage it causes, the fact that it makes you GAIN WEIGHT. Riiiiiight. Let's all follow this advice.
And then, the dagger to my heart. The Chew. SOLD. OUT. I'm sure that has a lot more to do with the people that run the network than it does with the hosts of the show, but that one upset me more than anything else. They've decided to run the competition for who will be the next weight watchers chef. I was already disappointed that they've taken on this "cans" thing, saying you don't need fresh ingredients, just use the shit you find in cans. No. Thank. You. And then to add insult to injury. The competition began with 2 chefs who sucked the joy out of the food they were cooking. And the piece de resistance? The rep from WW said "And you could substitute the parmesan cheese for a fat free cheese". Scuse me what now!?!?! Mario Batali just died a thousand deaths. Michael Symon bowed his head in shame. Even Daphne Oz was shaking her head. These people know better.
FAT FREE CHEESE IS OF THE DEVIL!
THE DEVIL!
Should we all start eating "I can't believe it's not butter" too? Why don't we suck down some transfats while we're at it? Maybe they can bring back those fat free O'lean potato chips. You know the ones. That cause anal leakage. Right there on the package, it says it. ANAL. LEAKAGE.
Have we not learned that if the food was created in a lab then *perhaps* it's not the best choice for our bodies? Have we not seen the number of cancer patients in this country sky rocket? The number of kids with diseases, behavior issues, food allergies, etc etc etc. The number of people with diabetes?
I'm almost too tired of it all to be pissed. Just when people start to speak truth about our food, where it comes from, what it does to our bodies, some big stupid corporation comes in with crap tons of money and tries to wipe out the evidence. Simply to line their pockets. Why is this nation so greedy? Why don't they have these issues in other countries? How is it that ours is the ONLY ONE that doesn't ban this garbage? And why do some of the same companies make food for these other countries that do not contain this crap???
But I'm digressing. Right now, I'm aiming it all at the diet industry. The multi-billion dollar industry. What many people don't seem to understand is that these are MONEY MAKING MACHINES. They are designed to FAIL. Because if they worked, they would put themselves out of business. If they worked, there would not be an obesity epidemic. If they worked, you would not constantly feel guilty about eating, about enjoying your food, about enjoying your LIFE without a little message hovering over your shoulder, saying you're not good enough, not thin enough.
Points don't allow you to listen to what your body really needs to eat. Packaged meals full of chemicals don't give you enough nutrients to stay healthy. The food they push is not filling enough, nor TASTY enough, to keep you satisfied. 4 bites of REAL pasta with REAL butter and REAL cheese? That will kill that craving for mac and cheese more than eating anything else. And, if you buy the right ingredients, it's actually GOOD FOR YOU! Butter made from grass fed cows actually is good for you. Ever wonder why so many kids today need an orthodontist? Lack of Vitamin K in our diets. And no wonder. It comes from eating organ meats (liver, etc) and full fat soft cheeses. All because some idiots in the 80's and 90's tried to convince us that eating fat made us fat. And suddenly all of our food became LITE.
Let's once again look to our friends from Europe. They've been around a looooong time. And their food? Is GOOD. EXCELLENT. INCREDIBLE. THE REASON WE GO TO THERE. And without fail, don't you ask yourself how it is that everyone there seems to be in really good shape. And there's not a gym in site? These folks know how to eat. They take their time (3 hours minimum for a good dinner). They savor their food. They use real ingredients. They don't feel guilty.
The point is. REAL. FOOD. Eat it. feel better. look better. cure your body using food not drugs. eat food that only has a few ingredients, all of them recognizable. if it's not something you'd cook with, don't eat it. Make as much food as you can yourself. and not with those garbage shortcuts in a package. I'm looking at you, bread dough that doesn't need any rise time.....
seriously dude, when did we get too lazy to mix together 3 extra ingredients in order to make pancakes? Bisquick is not necessary!
Retrain our brains. whole milk. full fat cheese. eggs. extra virgin olive oil. full fat greek yogurt with honey and fresh fruit. (all organic, obvs). EAT THESE THINGS. savor them. Pasta with just one ingredient (semolina flour). top it with all the fresh parm & grass fed butter you want. Do it. Now.
Loves.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Hell hath no fury like 3 weeks of "Vacation"...
So we were gone for a while. A long while. And we've learned some lessons. I'll share them here so you can avoid them at all costs. You're welcome.
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, DO NOT DRIVE TO SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA FROM SEATTLE.
I mean, you can. While 20 weeks pregnant. With a 2 year old. But I would not recommend this. It sounds like fun at first. You've borrowed a portable DVD player (LIFE SAVING DEVICE), you've made some yummy food for the road, you're staying over 2 nights in hotels to break up the trip appropriately. Seems like all should be good, right? Until. You decide that if you eat another homemade, organic peanut butter and jelly sandwich you might just lose your ever loving mind. So you grab some food. Which is, of course, garbage- even if you go to those few places that serve hormone free burgers and chicken. And then. You begin to experience the wrath of the toddler. The toddler who you forgot to change so she's soaked. SOAKED. And who was fine in the car, but now that you've decided to let her run around and get out some energy has suddenly turned into a screaming, whirling ball of angry. And forget trying to put her back into said car. Everyone around you will assume you're kidnapping her. Don't worry, the screaming subsides eventually. Just put on the Muppets soundtrack. But only the Mah Na Mah Na song. For the 367th time.
Also. Keep in mind you're driving with a preggo. So you may have just passed all those slow cars on that one lane highway through the mountains. But it doesn't matter. Because approximately every 20 minutes, said preggo WILL make you pull over so she can pee. Complain all you want. Just remember, driver, that YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO HER.
Congratulations! You have finally made it to San Diego! No one was stabbed so you consider this a win. And tomorrow night, Nana flies in to help wrangle the munchkin while daddy is at work all day long every day. Because this wasn't so much a vacation as a work trip that wifey and babygirl refused to let hubbs take by himself. And since preggo wifey is all high risk and can't fly, driving the total of 3,600 miles is a necessary evil.
This week goes by fairly smoothly. Nana is a HUMONGOUS help and babygirl only has a few meltdowns. Mainly in Disneyland, when we evil grown ups dared to try to cover up her pretty Ariel dress with a sweatshirt when the temp plummeted. Imagine if you were to dismember someone with a dull butter knife. THAT level of screaming and kicking. In the happiest place on earth.
Adorable. First thing in the morning, meeting the princesses. Precious.
End of the night. DAGGERS. Completely. Over. It.
We had many adventures, and then Nana had to leave. BIG MISTAKE. Tired preggo mamma and toddler replaced by a different, unhappy child that mamma didn't recognize in tiny hotel room with no vehicle and no healthy food options equals unhappy mess that really just wants to get the hell home already. All the Peaceful Parenting books I read flew out the window as I found myself yelling 45 times a day "DON'T TOUCH IT!!!", "STOP SCREAMING!!" (always helpful when screamed), "STOP RIPPING THE BIBLE!!"
Finally, we are free to go. THANK. GOD. So we decide to take 4 days to drive home. This seems ridiculous in so many different ways, but when will we ever drive up the California coast back to Seattle again? Let's just do it. Back in the car. This time, zero amounts of homemade food since our hotel for the last week didn't even have a refrigerator. All crap, all the time. Stopped up, cranky, tired, homesick car load for 4 days. WOOHOO. Oh yeah and Thanksgiving is just a few days away, so let's menu plan on the drive home and order a turkey over the phone. The very last one left at our fave Bill the Butcher. A 15 pound turkey for 3 people??? SUUUUUURE. It's only $92. that is totally justifiable right? Hubbs? Less than pleased. Whatevs. We had turkey.
And in the final phase of ALL IS NOT FAIR FOR THE PREGGO ON A ROAD TRIP. Napa. We drove through, and stopped at, several wineries. In Napa. AND I. CAN'T. DRINK. Perfect.
Outside a gorgeous winery, where I got to watch hubbs sample some AH-MAAAAZING wines. UNFAIR.
So we get home. Sleeping in our own bed is heaven. Eating our non-processed homemade food again is glorious. Trying to get back into our routine? HELL. Apparently, 3 weeks gone equals one very very clingy, tantrum-y toddler. Who LITERALLY clung to me 24 hours a day for a full 2 weeks. Even while sleeping, her little arms were death gripped around my neck as she snored in my face. Which was adorable. Except have you ever tried sleeping in the same position, while pregnant and having to pee every 2 hours, for the entire night? Not. Pleasant. Naptimes were back to only sleeping with mamma- something we STILL have not been able to fix. And from the day after Thanksgiving and lasting an ENTIRE WEEK- we got hit with a cough and cold. It was mild. But. Our energizer bunny of a babygirl did not MOVE off of my lap for that entire week. I've never seen her sit still for so long. And of course that meant that every time I needed to move- to get water or food, to pee, to just GET UP, she freaked out and screamed, and I ended up having to wear her. which is SUUUUPER pleasant with my protruding belly. And getting prepped for Christmas? HA! Christmas cards will most likely end up being Happy New Years cards, decorations didn't go up until 2 weeks after Thanksgiving, and I'm still not sure what I'm cooking. And oh yeah we have to mail out all of our loved ones' Christmas gifts so maybe I should have figured that out weeks ago......
The shining light on this whole experience, besides of course getting to take babygirl to Disneyland which I've been BEGGING the hubbs to do for about a year now. We know, without a shadow of a doubt, that our organic, non-processed food lifestyle has a HUGE impact on our kiddo, and us. It took 2 weeks to get all that garbage out of our systems again and start having regular poops and attitudes. But I finally got my sweet natured, happy, helpful babygirl back! I was a bit worried she might have just entered that terrible phase and I would be SOL for Baby A's arrival. But nope. It was just all the junk in her system.
So I'll continue reading all the studies on behavioral issues in kiddos connected with high fructose corn syrup, food dyes and additives, and processed foods. But I don't really need to. I got to live it for a total of 5 weeks. And now? I don't care how tired I am. I don't care how difficult it will be with 2 kids. I will be cooking from scratch almost all of our meals from here on out. (I suppose I'll give myself a break sometimes and we'll go out to a trusted restaurant occasionally). But I can guarantee that that will be astronomically easier than dealing with a crazo toddler and an infant.
It might seem like asking a lot from already tired, stressed out mammas. And trust me, I GET IT. But. If you're finding some behaviors from your kiddos a bit unsavory, just give this whole organic thing, and as much non-processed food as possible, a try for a few weeks. If it is processed, just ensure it doesn't have any artificial dyes and as few ingredients as possible, hopefully all ones you can pronounce. I SWEAR ON MY LIFE you will see a difference.
It's nice to have babygirl back. I'm gonna keep it that way.
Loves!
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, DO NOT DRIVE TO SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA FROM SEATTLE.
I mean, you can. While 20 weeks pregnant. With a 2 year old. But I would not recommend this. It sounds like fun at first. You've borrowed a portable DVD player (LIFE SAVING DEVICE), you've made some yummy food for the road, you're staying over 2 nights in hotels to break up the trip appropriately. Seems like all should be good, right? Until. You decide that if you eat another homemade, organic peanut butter and jelly sandwich you might just lose your ever loving mind. So you grab some food. Which is, of course, garbage- even if you go to those few places that serve hormone free burgers and chicken. And then. You begin to experience the wrath of the toddler. The toddler who you forgot to change so she's soaked. SOAKED. And who was fine in the car, but now that you've decided to let her run around and get out some energy has suddenly turned into a screaming, whirling ball of angry. And forget trying to put her back into said car. Everyone around you will assume you're kidnapping her. Don't worry, the screaming subsides eventually. Just put on the Muppets soundtrack. But only the Mah Na Mah Na song. For the 367th time.
Also. Keep in mind you're driving with a preggo. So you may have just passed all those slow cars on that one lane highway through the mountains. But it doesn't matter. Because approximately every 20 minutes, said preggo WILL make you pull over so she can pee. Complain all you want. Just remember, driver, that YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO HER.
Congratulations! You have finally made it to San Diego! No one was stabbed so you consider this a win. And tomorrow night, Nana flies in to help wrangle the munchkin while daddy is at work all day long every day. Because this wasn't so much a vacation as a work trip that wifey and babygirl refused to let hubbs take by himself. And since preggo wifey is all high risk and can't fly, driving the total of 3,600 miles is a necessary evil.
This week goes by fairly smoothly. Nana is a HUMONGOUS help and babygirl only has a few meltdowns. Mainly in Disneyland, when we evil grown ups dared to try to cover up her pretty Ariel dress with a sweatshirt when the temp plummeted. Imagine if you were to dismember someone with a dull butter knife. THAT level of screaming and kicking. In the happiest place on earth.
We had many adventures, and then Nana had to leave. BIG MISTAKE. Tired preggo mamma and toddler replaced by a different, unhappy child that mamma didn't recognize in tiny hotel room with no vehicle and no healthy food options equals unhappy mess that really just wants to get the hell home already. All the Peaceful Parenting books I read flew out the window as I found myself yelling 45 times a day "DON'T TOUCH IT!!!", "STOP SCREAMING!!" (always helpful when screamed), "STOP RIPPING THE BIBLE!!"
Finally, we are free to go. THANK. GOD. So we decide to take 4 days to drive home. This seems ridiculous in so many different ways, but when will we ever drive up the California coast back to Seattle again? Let's just do it. Back in the car. This time, zero amounts of homemade food since our hotel for the last week didn't even have a refrigerator. All crap, all the time. Stopped up, cranky, tired, homesick car load for 4 days. WOOHOO. Oh yeah and Thanksgiving is just a few days away, so let's menu plan on the drive home and order a turkey over the phone. The very last one left at our fave Bill the Butcher. A 15 pound turkey for 3 people??? SUUUUUURE. It's only $92. that is totally justifiable right? Hubbs? Less than pleased. Whatevs. We had turkey.
And in the final phase of ALL IS NOT FAIR FOR THE PREGGO ON A ROAD TRIP. Napa. We drove through, and stopped at, several wineries. In Napa. AND I. CAN'T. DRINK. Perfect.
So we get home. Sleeping in our own bed is heaven. Eating our non-processed homemade food again is glorious. Trying to get back into our routine? HELL. Apparently, 3 weeks gone equals one very very clingy, tantrum-y toddler. Who LITERALLY clung to me 24 hours a day for a full 2 weeks. Even while sleeping, her little arms were death gripped around my neck as she snored in my face. Which was adorable. Except have you ever tried sleeping in the same position, while pregnant and having to pee every 2 hours, for the entire night? Not. Pleasant. Naptimes were back to only sleeping with mamma- something we STILL have not been able to fix. And from the day after Thanksgiving and lasting an ENTIRE WEEK- we got hit with a cough and cold. It was mild. But. Our energizer bunny of a babygirl did not MOVE off of my lap for that entire week. I've never seen her sit still for so long. And of course that meant that every time I needed to move- to get water or food, to pee, to just GET UP, she freaked out and screamed, and I ended up having to wear her. which is SUUUUPER pleasant with my protruding belly. And getting prepped for Christmas? HA! Christmas cards will most likely end up being Happy New Years cards, decorations didn't go up until 2 weeks after Thanksgiving, and I'm still not sure what I'm cooking. And oh yeah we have to mail out all of our loved ones' Christmas gifts so maybe I should have figured that out weeks ago......
The shining light on this whole experience, besides of course getting to take babygirl to Disneyland which I've been BEGGING the hubbs to do for about a year now. We know, without a shadow of a doubt, that our organic, non-processed food lifestyle has a HUGE impact on our kiddo, and us. It took 2 weeks to get all that garbage out of our systems again and start having regular poops and attitudes. But I finally got my sweet natured, happy, helpful babygirl back! I was a bit worried she might have just entered that terrible phase and I would be SOL for Baby A's arrival. But nope. It was just all the junk in her system.
So I'll continue reading all the studies on behavioral issues in kiddos connected with high fructose corn syrup, food dyes and additives, and processed foods. But I don't really need to. I got to live it for a total of 5 weeks. And now? I don't care how tired I am. I don't care how difficult it will be with 2 kids. I will be cooking from scratch almost all of our meals from here on out. (I suppose I'll give myself a break sometimes and we'll go out to a trusted restaurant occasionally). But I can guarantee that that will be astronomically easier than dealing with a crazo toddler and an infant.
It might seem like asking a lot from already tired, stressed out mammas. And trust me, I GET IT. But. If you're finding some behaviors from your kiddos a bit unsavory, just give this whole organic thing, and as much non-processed food as possible, a try for a few weeks. If it is processed, just ensure it doesn't have any artificial dyes and as few ingredients as possible, hopefully all ones you can pronounce. I SWEAR ON MY LIFE you will see a difference.
It's nice to have babygirl back. I'm gonna keep it that way.
Loves!
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
A tangle of arms and legs...
So another mommy post. I might touch on just HOW ANNOYED I am that it looks like WA voted against labeling GMO's, but if I let myself really go there it would consist of mainly curses and just how ignorant Americans are willing to remain while we all get sicker and sicker because of our food system.
I digress.
I'll be in San Diego for basically the rest of the month of November and so this will be my last post for a while. I figured I'd end on a happy sappy note. Not something people are used to from me, but too bad. Here it is.
We were all snuggled in bed the other night, because YES WE STILL CO-SLEEP. DEAL WITH IT. Oh hey there I am.....
anyway, babygirl has this habit of trying to sneak back into my womb by any means possible. She reserves it mostly for bedtime and upon entering a new place for the first 10 minutes. Typically, as I'm all sorts of pregnant and sweaty, I try to push her off onto daddy, or let her know that the people in the room are not going to kidnap and eat her. However, on this particular night, I realized how much I'm going to miss these moments when she's no longer so willing to cuddle. When she no longer needs me for her warm up period before interacting with others. How I'm gonna miss the smell of her sweaty little bedhead, or how she randomly grins in her sleep. Or shouts out "DOG. WOOF" with her eyes still closed when the neighborhood dogs give their 3 am concert.
We recently moved her crib into our bedroom and removed the front portion of it to encourage her to sleep in her big girl bed. Which she used maybe once for about an hour. Daddy thought, and I kinda sorta agreed that before baby #2 makes an appearance she should get used to sleeping in her own bed, as having all 4 of us in bed might be a bit dangerous. Someone has a habit of punching and/or kicking us in the face while we sleep.
But, I'm not ready. Not to mention babygirl is definitely not ready- she still suffers from some pretty traumatic night terrors which are heartbreaking. I'm not ready to not wake up to her face on mine, breathing on me and ready to pounce. or not have her, inch by inch, make her way into my armpit in her sleep. I'm not ready to throw her baby-ness completely out simply to make way for the new baby.
And so, I've decided. I'm not gonna. Yeah yeah yeah there are a ton of differing opinions on this, but honestly, when have I ever really cared about anyone else's opinion? This child is so so excited to take her babies and nurse them, rock them, put them to bed, carry them around with her. I want her to hold onto that, and love on baby a ton. But. If I start stripping away all of her comforts, all of the things she's come to rely on to get her through the night, literally- I have a sneaking suspicion she's not gonna think that new baby is so cute. She's going to try to sell him. She's thrifty that way.
And I gotta be honest. The thought of all 4 of us snuggled up in bed? That sounds like heaven to me. Not when they're teenagers. Obviously. But now, when they're small and cuddly and their morning breath isn't bad and they still can't completely pronounce the 2nd syllable of any word....in the time that feels like an eternity during whiny time and an instant at the same time. While they're still my babies. I want a family bed. There I said it.
But what about you and your husband? How will you ever have sex?
People please. I'm pregnant. Clearly this has not been a challenge for us.
Do I think this is going to hinder her ability to ever sleep on her own?
Nope. When she's ready, she'll know that she's safe. and that nighttime isn't scary. If I decided to just go ahead and throw her in her own bed or own room now when she's not ready I think there's a much better chance that she'll never be ok with sleeping. And that's just a bummer cause sleep is awesome.
But your hubbs hates it, right?
No. Does he sometimes miss just cuddling with me at night? Of course. Would he trade in all the snuggles he gets at night, especially after working long hours and not getting to see her all day long? Not for anything. The sweetest sight is when I wake up and she's all nestled up in his armpit, both snoring away. Serious. Melt.
There is nothing like waking up in a tiny tangle of limbs and bedhead. It reminds me how blessed I am. And how granola I've become. It also reminds me that no matter how much she tries to imitate being a tiny little adult, she's still my baby at heart, and I'm gonna keep it that way for as long as I can.
I digress.
I'll be in San Diego for basically the rest of the month of November and so this will be my last post for a while. I figured I'd end on a happy sappy note. Not something people are used to from me, but too bad. Here it is.
We were all snuggled in bed the other night, because YES WE STILL CO-SLEEP. DEAL WITH IT. Oh hey there I am.....
anyway, babygirl has this habit of trying to sneak back into my womb by any means possible. She reserves it mostly for bedtime and upon entering a new place for the first 10 minutes. Typically, as I'm all sorts of pregnant and sweaty, I try to push her off onto daddy, or let her know that the people in the room are not going to kidnap and eat her. However, on this particular night, I realized how much I'm going to miss these moments when she's no longer so willing to cuddle. When she no longer needs me for her warm up period before interacting with others. How I'm gonna miss the smell of her sweaty little bedhead, or how she randomly grins in her sleep. Or shouts out "DOG. WOOF" with her eyes still closed when the neighborhood dogs give their 3 am concert.
We recently moved her crib into our bedroom and removed the front portion of it to encourage her to sleep in her big girl bed. Which she used maybe once for about an hour. Daddy thought, and I kinda sorta agreed that before baby #2 makes an appearance she should get used to sleeping in her own bed, as having all 4 of us in bed might be a bit dangerous. Someone has a habit of punching and/or kicking us in the face while we sleep.
But, I'm not ready. Not to mention babygirl is definitely not ready- she still suffers from some pretty traumatic night terrors which are heartbreaking. I'm not ready to not wake up to her face on mine, breathing on me and ready to pounce. or not have her, inch by inch, make her way into my armpit in her sleep. I'm not ready to throw her baby-ness completely out simply to make way for the new baby.
And so, I've decided. I'm not gonna. Yeah yeah yeah there are a ton of differing opinions on this, but honestly, when have I ever really cared about anyone else's opinion? This child is so so excited to take her babies and nurse them, rock them, put them to bed, carry them around with her. I want her to hold onto that, and love on baby a ton. But. If I start stripping away all of her comforts, all of the things she's come to rely on to get her through the night, literally- I have a sneaking suspicion she's not gonna think that new baby is so cute. She's going to try to sell him. She's thrifty that way.
And I gotta be honest. The thought of all 4 of us snuggled up in bed? That sounds like heaven to me. Not when they're teenagers. Obviously. But now, when they're small and cuddly and their morning breath isn't bad and they still can't completely pronounce the 2nd syllable of any word....in the time that feels like an eternity during whiny time and an instant at the same time. While they're still my babies. I want a family bed. There I said it.
But what about you and your husband? How will you ever have sex?
People please. I'm pregnant. Clearly this has not been a challenge for us.
Do I think this is going to hinder her ability to ever sleep on her own?
Nope. When she's ready, she'll know that she's safe. and that nighttime isn't scary. If I decided to just go ahead and throw her in her own bed or own room now when she's not ready I think there's a much better chance that she'll never be ok with sleeping. And that's just a bummer cause sleep is awesome.
But your hubbs hates it, right?
No. Does he sometimes miss just cuddling with me at night? Of course. Would he trade in all the snuggles he gets at night, especially after working long hours and not getting to see her all day long? Not for anything. The sweetest sight is when I wake up and she's all nestled up in his armpit, both snoring away. Serious. Melt.
There is nothing like waking up in a tiny tangle of limbs and bedhead. It reminds me how blessed I am. And how granola I've become. It also reminds me that no matter how much she tries to imitate being a tiny little adult, she's still my baby at heart, and I'm gonna keep it that way for as long as I can.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Hey look I'm alive! Or, Why I suck at blogging right now...
So. It's been a while. And I apologize. Life went ahead and kicked my ass. I'm getting used to it now. Here's the scoop.
Babygirl and I decided to take a last minute (like booked the tickets the DAY before we left last minute) trip to New Jersey cause Nana needed an Ava fix. We were putting off going to Jersey, or making any kind of travel plans because it looked like we were gonna be moving to South Carolina by the end of the summer, and we figured once we did it'd be an easy drive to Jersey to visit family.
But, babygirl and I went for what was supposed to be a week. We flew out Tuesday. On Wednesday, the hubbs called me and said "looks like I didn't get the position. not moving for a while at least." Ummmm, bring on the tears and the suckfest. At this point in the summer (early August) I had already packed up my stuff and moved (in my head). I was SO. DONE. with Washington. Craptastic weather. Too far from family. And come August 26th, we would have to start paying for 3 plane tix since babygirl was turning 2. I was NOT HAVING IT. Charleston was beautiful, and SUNNY, and warm, and on the east coast and SUNNY. I didn't have miserable allergies there. We could get out from this stupid expensive mortgage finally. I could see family so much more often. and Disneyworld was just HOURS away!!
So to say my world came crashing down with that phonecall is fairly accurate. I had no idea what was coming.
Friday morning. Having a blast in Jersey, although not feeling great. Waiting for my period, which was 5 days late. Called my mom at work and asked her to pick up a pregnancy test on her way home because, although I was sure I wasn't, I knew if I just peed on a stick then my period would show up the next day. Cause I went and spent money. Murphy's Law and all that.
HA! She asked me how long it took, and said about 3 minutes. Except. I walked out of that bathroom about 50 seconds later, because I had 2 VERY VERY VIVID LINES. More vivid than any test I had taken with babygirl. And it showed up IMMEDIATELY.
WHAT. THE. EFF.
My mom looked at me, and I just lost it. Couldn't stop bawling. We realized this was probably why he didn't get the job in Charleston. God's timing and all. I was not amused. Called the hubbs, and he was stupid ecstatic. Said he couldn't stop smiling all day long at work. Awesome for him. I did not want this. This was not my plan.
I of course knew why I felt so crappy and it continually got worse. Morning sickness was sucking hardcore. And I kept wanting to kick myself. I realized that we hadn't been safe 1 time. 1 lousy time. We had talked about maybe possibly having another child after we moved...but my hope was that I could push it off and push it off and then we would decide not to do it. I had already envisioned our family in the future...our perfect little family of three. One child. That was all.
Having a toddler and having morning sickness was not making this any easier on me either. She was clingy. It was hot. She wanted to nurse. I wanted to die a little. She didn't like strollers but carrying her was making me even more sick. I called the hubbs the day before I was supposed to fly home and broke down, telling him there was no way I was getting on a plane by myself with a toddler feeling this craptastic. He had to fly to Jersey and come get us. He heard the desperation in my voice and said he had to work the rest of the week cause he was the only manager in the office, but he would fly out on Friday and take us home. Trip extended to a little over 2 weeks. Which was awesome to have my mom there to help, but I have to say there's something REALLY nice about having a bathroom attached to your bedroom, so I was itching to get back home.
The next bunch of weeks (also known as my first trimester) were me basically locking myself in my house and being sick and sad and worried and sad and sick some more. Went to the doc and found a really really strong heartbeat and a healthy pregnancy. Also found out that I'd have to go on a blood thinner regimen. NOT HAPPY. That doesn't exactly mesh with this whole no medicine, organic, clean living we had been doing. And of course, when I JUST STARTED to feel like I was mastering my life as a mommy, and I was really enjoying my body and how great I was feeling, of COURSE I would go and get pregnant and ruin that all in one shot. How was I gonna handle two? How would babygirl feel about it? I was already being a terrible mother due to how terrible I felt. TV all the time. Not doing a whole lot of cooking. Forget eating at the dining room table. Going on walks wasn't happening. Leaving the house wasn't happening that often.
And lets just add on to that that I was TERRIFIED. Am terrified. Although a little less now. What if this baby comes even earlier? What if it's a boy, and boys are statistically less likely to pull through a preemature birth? I'm not connecting to the pregnancy now, what if I never do? How am I ruining babygirl's babyhood by getting pregnant again? Do I have to cold turkey stop nursing so it doesn't bring on contractions? She can't handle that. Can we, as a couple, as a family, handle losing a child? And after finally ridding my body of toxins, how is it gonna handle being shot up with blood thinners? I don't want that but I want a healthy baby.
So. I disappeared for a bit. To clear my head, and because looking at any kind of computer screen or book was making me uber nauseous. And here's what I've come to accept.
God gave us the baby for a reason. He knows what our family can and can't handle, and clearly he thinks we would make a good family of 4.
We got a fabulous high risk doctor willing to work with us. So, I am NOT injecting myself with lovonox daily, but I am taking a baby aspirin every day so that the placenta doesn't develop any blood clots, since that's what likely happened to cause the abruption with babygirl. Not super happy, but better than ALL of the drugs they wanted me on.
It looks like this one is a boy...so someone I know is going to get a little snip snip since I. AM. DONE. having babies.
I am more tired than I have ever been in my entire life. Babygirl knows something is up, and has decided to be ridiculously clingy, a poor napper, a poor sleeper (back to 2 feedings in the middle of the night, awesome) and extra whiny to make up for me being sick and tired. She's also taken to mimicking me puking, which is just perfect. So there's that.
And. I have to start giving myself some leniency. Sometimes, cooking is NOT in the cards for me. I'm trying to make more than is needed at time consuming meals so I can freeze half and have it on those days when I'm not cooking. And a lot of times we have pasta. And we're not eating chicken because *GAG* I do NOT do chicken while pregnant. Bring on the pork and beef. So I started buying a few organic cereals (this baby is a cereal fiend). And I started buying some organic frozen foods that I can heat up because GOOD LORD I'm eating 75 times a day (a parasite on the inside AND one on the outside leaves this mamma starving) and I need a little variety in my life. And we eat out a lot more than we used to. Still trying to only go to those places that I know use decent ingredients, but it's not nearly as good as making everything from scratch so my body is of course playing mutiny every once in a while.
And I'm not reading a bunch, or watching food documentaries, or on facebook or this blog much.
I AM watching an awful lot of SuperWhy and Disney movies. And I'm trying to be ok with that.
And ironically, for all the bitching and moaning I did ALL SUMMER LONG about my need for constant sunshine, I REALLY need Washington to get in gear and BRING ON THE FALL. I'm a sweaty, hormonal beast and if I can't start wearing all my adorable preggo sweaters to cover the "is she fat or pregnant" bump I'm gonna lose my flippin mind.
So there's that.
Babygirl and I decided to take a last minute (like booked the tickets the DAY before we left last minute) trip to New Jersey cause Nana needed an Ava fix. We were putting off going to Jersey, or making any kind of travel plans because it looked like we were gonna be moving to South Carolina by the end of the summer, and we figured once we did it'd be an easy drive to Jersey to visit family.
But, babygirl and I went for what was supposed to be a week. We flew out Tuesday. On Wednesday, the hubbs called me and said "looks like I didn't get the position. not moving for a while at least." Ummmm, bring on the tears and the suckfest. At this point in the summer (early August) I had already packed up my stuff and moved (in my head). I was SO. DONE. with Washington. Craptastic weather. Too far from family. And come August 26th, we would have to start paying for 3 plane tix since babygirl was turning 2. I was NOT HAVING IT. Charleston was beautiful, and SUNNY, and warm, and on the east coast and SUNNY. I didn't have miserable allergies there. We could get out from this stupid expensive mortgage finally. I could see family so much more often. and Disneyworld was just HOURS away!!
So to say my world came crashing down with that phonecall is fairly accurate. I had no idea what was coming.
Friday morning. Having a blast in Jersey, although not feeling great. Waiting for my period, which was 5 days late. Called my mom at work and asked her to pick up a pregnancy test on her way home because, although I was sure I wasn't, I knew if I just peed on a stick then my period would show up the next day. Cause I went and spent money. Murphy's Law and all that.
HA! She asked me how long it took, and said about 3 minutes. Except. I walked out of that bathroom about 50 seconds later, because I had 2 VERY VERY VIVID LINES. More vivid than any test I had taken with babygirl. And it showed up IMMEDIATELY.
WHAT. THE. EFF.
My mom looked at me, and I just lost it. Couldn't stop bawling. We realized this was probably why he didn't get the job in Charleston. God's timing and all. I was not amused. Called the hubbs, and he was stupid ecstatic. Said he couldn't stop smiling all day long at work. Awesome for him. I did not want this. This was not my plan.
I of course knew why I felt so crappy and it continually got worse. Morning sickness was sucking hardcore. And I kept wanting to kick myself. I realized that we hadn't been safe 1 time. 1 lousy time. We had talked about maybe possibly having another child after we moved...but my hope was that I could push it off and push it off and then we would decide not to do it. I had already envisioned our family in the future...our perfect little family of three. One child. That was all.
Having a toddler and having morning sickness was not making this any easier on me either. She was clingy. It was hot. She wanted to nurse. I wanted to die a little. She didn't like strollers but carrying her was making me even more sick. I called the hubbs the day before I was supposed to fly home and broke down, telling him there was no way I was getting on a plane by myself with a toddler feeling this craptastic. He had to fly to Jersey and come get us. He heard the desperation in my voice and said he had to work the rest of the week cause he was the only manager in the office, but he would fly out on Friday and take us home. Trip extended to a little over 2 weeks. Which was awesome to have my mom there to help, but I have to say there's something REALLY nice about having a bathroom attached to your bedroom, so I was itching to get back home.
The next bunch of weeks (also known as my first trimester) were me basically locking myself in my house and being sick and sad and worried and sad and sick some more. Went to the doc and found a really really strong heartbeat and a healthy pregnancy. Also found out that I'd have to go on a blood thinner regimen. NOT HAPPY. That doesn't exactly mesh with this whole no medicine, organic, clean living we had been doing. And of course, when I JUST STARTED to feel like I was mastering my life as a mommy, and I was really enjoying my body and how great I was feeling, of COURSE I would go and get pregnant and ruin that all in one shot. How was I gonna handle two? How would babygirl feel about it? I was already being a terrible mother due to how terrible I felt. TV all the time. Not doing a whole lot of cooking. Forget eating at the dining room table. Going on walks wasn't happening. Leaving the house wasn't happening that often.
And lets just add on to that that I was TERRIFIED. Am terrified. Although a little less now. What if this baby comes even earlier? What if it's a boy, and boys are statistically less likely to pull through a preemature birth? I'm not connecting to the pregnancy now, what if I never do? How am I ruining babygirl's babyhood by getting pregnant again? Do I have to cold turkey stop nursing so it doesn't bring on contractions? She can't handle that. Can we, as a couple, as a family, handle losing a child? And after finally ridding my body of toxins, how is it gonna handle being shot up with blood thinners? I don't want that but I want a healthy baby.
So. I disappeared for a bit. To clear my head, and because looking at any kind of computer screen or book was making me uber nauseous. And here's what I've come to accept.
God gave us the baby for a reason. He knows what our family can and can't handle, and clearly he thinks we would make a good family of 4.
We got a fabulous high risk doctor willing to work with us. So, I am NOT injecting myself with lovonox daily, but I am taking a baby aspirin every day so that the placenta doesn't develop any blood clots, since that's what likely happened to cause the abruption with babygirl. Not super happy, but better than ALL of the drugs they wanted me on.
It looks like this one is a boy...so someone I know is going to get a little snip snip since I. AM. DONE. having babies.
I am more tired than I have ever been in my entire life. Babygirl knows something is up, and has decided to be ridiculously clingy, a poor napper, a poor sleeper (back to 2 feedings in the middle of the night, awesome) and extra whiny to make up for me being sick and tired. She's also taken to mimicking me puking, which is just perfect. So there's that.
And. I have to start giving myself some leniency. Sometimes, cooking is NOT in the cards for me. I'm trying to make more than is needed at time consuming meals so I can freeze half and have it on those days when I'm not cooking. And a lot of times we have pasta. And we're not eating chicken because *GAG* I do NOT do chicken while pregnant. Bring on the pork and beef. So I started buying a few organic cereals (this baby is a cereal fiend). And I started buying some organic frozen foods that I can heat up because GOOD LORD I'm eating 75 times a day (a parasite on the inside AND one on the outside leaves this mamma starving) and I need a little variety in my life. And we eat out a lot more than we used to. Still trying to only go to those places that I know use decent ingredients, but it's not nearly as good as making everything from scratch so my body is of course playing mutiny every once in a while.
And I'm not reading a bunch, or watching food documentaries, or on facebook or this blog much.
I AM watching an awful lot of SuperWhy and Disney movies. And I'm trying to be ok with that.
And ironically, for all the bitching and moaning I did ALL SUMMER LONG about my need for constant sunshine, I REALLY need Washington to get in gear and BRING ON THE FALL. I'm a sweaty, hormonal beast and if I can't start wearing all my adorable preggo sweaters to cover the "is she fat or pregnant" bump I'm gonna lose my flippin mind.
So there's that.
Friday, August 2, 2013
33 Years
I have been obsessed with my weight/ looks for as long as I can remember. I have also felt sick to my stomach for as long as I can remember.
Obsessed with food. will this make me fat? will this make me sick? how many calories in it? will I have to throw this up? is this bite worth hating myself when I look in the mirror?
And I'm not alone. Not by far. Because EVERYONE I KNOW is thinking the same things. EVERY FEMALE I'VE EVER KNOWN has been on a diet for a good portion of their lives. EVERYONE has looked at pictures proclaiming how fat they are. We all talk about it. Like it's just the cool thing to do to talk about all of the parts of your body that you hate. That you wish you could zap away.
Nailed it.
I love and hate this. I love this because it shows how "plastic" we all can be. We can recognize this behavior in ourselves, and laugh about how ridiculous it is, while continuing to do it. I hate this because how many teen girls sat in that movie theater and went "if she hates her calves, mine are repulsive!" Not intending to at all, this scene sent a message that even skinny isn't skinny enough.
And I've had it.
The BILLION DOLLAR INDUSTRY that is the diet industry is profiting off of making us feel fat, shame for being fat, and giving hope that their product will be the cure that will fix all of the problems in your life. Cause when you're skinny you have no more problems right?
I have 2 little words for the diet industry. F*** YOU.
F*** YOU for pushing us to believe that we can't be good unless we live up to your standards.
F*** YOU for working arm in arm with Hollywood/ Fashion Industries to make the genetic freaks (yeah that's right Giselle...you are NOT THE NORM) the gold standard for woman.
F*** YOU for ROTTING US FROM THE INSIDE OUT. Knowingly. Willfully.
F*** YOU for KNOWING that your plan can not possibly be long term, that it will have TERRIBLE health consequences, and for pushing it anyway all in the name of the almighty dollar.
I read somewhere (and try as I might, I cannot find this blogpost again... ARGH) that the diet industry started after World War II. And it started because the men in power at the time were scared. Women had to start working, since their husbands were off fighting. Working outside of the home had given women some empowerment, and men were scared as hell. If they weren't able to keep their women at home and in-line, what would this country come to? So, they decided to hit us another way. Kill off our confidence by making us feel less than. Telling us that the way we looked, now that we were out in the work world, was the only important thing, and if we didn't measure up? Well then we simply were not worthy. I have zero idea where she got her information, but as far as all of the other research I've seen as to when the diet industry started? It all lines up. And so I choose to believe her. I think it's the same thing that happened with the mommy wars. Just more ways for women to tear each other apart and down. And this makes me RAGE.
I grew up in the 80's and 90's. Margarine was the healthiest thing for you! Buy that tub of country crock- butter is bad! So fattening! Instead eat this....only part of it is made out of plastic. Yup. Plastic. NEVER EVER EVER eat eggs! Especially the yolks! The cholesterol will kill you immediately! Don't use salt, use this fake it-kinda-tastes-like-salt-but-it's-all-chemicals-so-it's-good-for-you! NEVER EAT FAT! Fat makes you fat. Don't eat calories! Calories make you fat! Here, we created these little pretty blue and pink and yellow packets of powder that make everything SUUUPER sweet but no calories. and no fat. so dig in!
Snackwells, Fat Free Ice Cream (even the name is oxymoronic), fat free potato chips (they only cause a leeetle bit of anal leakage), fat free salad dressing, calorie free soda, sugar free everything.
Then it was onto NO CARBS! Parents watch out, bread kills. Put down that potato. Put down that fruit. Carbs will send you straight to your grave! Isn't that why all Italians weigh 400 pounds!!! (oh yeah, they don't...let's just not mention Italy or France or just Europe in general....) If you just eat bacon and meat and cheese all of your problems will be solved! Stay away from the rice! Look at all those fat people in Asia...err...no don't look there. Just STOP EATING CARBS.
Now, if you pay enough money, you can go ahead and buy a friendship with Jenny, pay for some pals over at weight watchers, or have meals sent to your house from Nutrisystem (you'll save SO MUCH MONEY in groceries....except that you have to supplement with fruits, vegetables, bread, dairy....). Or just pay someone to HYPNOTIZE YOU so that you never have to eat again! Or wire your jaw shut. Or only drink green smoothies.
And HATE LIFE.
Oh, and be sick. Extremely sick. Like, diarrhea, constipation, stomach pain, feeling like there's an army of little men stabbing you in every single one of your vital organs. Develop headaches, exhaustion, muscle weakness, loss of hormones, too many hormones, depression, anxiety. AND GAIN WEIGHT.
So that's basically the story of my dieting history...of my life. Because food and life? they go hand in hand. You need food to live. It's not something you can just not think about.
But today?? Today I'm claiming VICTORY over the fraudulent diet industry.
I have NEVER FELT HEALTHIER. My skin is clear, my hair is normal, my cramps are not forcing me to take copious amounts of drugs to give the smallest amount of comfort, I get headaches once every few months and only when I sleep with my neck in a weird position, I no longer have to always carry ibuprofen with me, or immodium, or tums because I DON'T GET HEARTBURN, and I rarely have stomach issues anymore....(just don't ask me how I'm feeling after I eat some garbage food at an amusement park). This coming from the girl who vomited EVERY SINGLE DAY for over a year and it couldn't be diagnosed. Who pooped up to 12 TIMES A DAY for no apparent reason. Who gained a CRAP TON of weight and bloat but was somehow malnutritioned.
This, my friends, is a miracle. Oh yeah. And the best part? Yes, I now fit into clothes that haven't seen the light of day since I got married. Yes I actually bought, and WEAR a two piece for the first time since my honeymoon. Yes I'm loving the way I look and feel right now. BUT. EVEN BETTER. My BMI is in the normal range, my percentage of body fat is in the normal range, my bone density is fabulous, my percentage of water in my body is spot on, I'm sleeping normally, my body is functioning as a body should , I'm not tired, weak, bloated, irritable, crampy, achy all the time.
And I'm sure your first thought is "What diet are you on?"
ZERO. No diet. because diets are of satan. "Well what exercise plan are you doing?" None. I run after my toddler. I clean my house. We go walking with friends sometimes. I once tried to do a pilates video, but babygirl decided to sit on my head so that didn't last long. We dance. We chase the cats. We go up and down the stairs a million times because someone LOOOOOVES the stairs now. I give her airplane rides (I'm sure that counts as an ab workout, right?).
The point is, I'm simply living my life. I'm making food the way food was made waaaay back in the day. Or, the way it's made now in countries where people eat a loaf of bread every day, accompanied by pasta, chocolate and wine, and they are all itty bitty with some nice curves.
I let it go. Do I obsess about food? Nope....but I do get REAL excited to figure out what I'm making for dinner. Because I know it's gonna be delish, the hubbs will be excited and continue to let me not ever have to go back to work, and babygirl will chow down. Do I eat dessert. Hells yeah. Do I buy cookies or cookie dough? No. I make dessert. I swear, the cookies that have been raved about by many only took maybe 15 minutes to put together and another 12 to cook.
My "secret" is to simply eat REAL FOOD. Did you know that fat is good for you? That your body CANNOT function without fat? So we buy Kerrygold butter and cheese. It's made from GRASS-FED COWS- imagine that, cows being allowed to eat what cows were designed to eat and not being injected with artificial hormones and antibiotics. Eating Kerrygold butter is unicorns dancing on rainbows good. We only drink organic whole milk (I'd like to move to raw milk, but someone I know doesn't feel like spending $12 per gallon...) Did you know that drinking anything but whole milk is giving you zero of the nutritional benefits you thought you were getting from drinking milk, and the process they have to make it skim or 1 or 2 percent is not a particularly healthy one? Same goes for ultra pasteurized milk...stay away- if the expiration date is a few months out do not buy!We use a crap ton of extra virgin olive oil (organic or certified, because a lot of companies are slipping nasty crap into their olive oil and are getting away with it). We eat bread. I just make it myself. And it's not really that hard, just a little time consuming with the rise times. Bread should have 4 ingredients in it-take a look at the packages you buy. It's INSANE what they're putting in there.
We buy ZERO processed foods (at least for babygirl and I. sometimes the hubbs gets some organic frozen meals to take to work if I didn't make his lunch for the next day). Do you know what they put in processed foods? A lot of chemical stuff to allow it to sit on a shelf and never expire. Also, they add gluten to almost everything. No wonder everyone and their mother is allergic to it. I was too. But not anymore!
Is this lifestyle easier? For me, it is. Mainly because I've always loved cooking, and I come from a family where everything was homemade. And also? I'm a food snob, and once I've tasted what REAL FOOD tastes like, I can't really go near the other stuff. It really is disgusting.
Now. Obviously there are some meals that I make that are fairly time consuming...like lasagna. And when I make it, I make it in huge quantities so I can freeze it and we can have a yummy made from scratch meal when I'm just feeling lazy. However, the majority of meals that I make take no longer than 30- 45 minutes to put together. I do buy pasta for a lot of the pasta dishes I make, but I buy organic, made in Italy pasta that has only 3 or 4 ingredients. So, not Barilla. Or the blue boxes.
I have discovered a bunch of different ways to save time, save some money, and make yummy food. So I'm thinking perhaps I just need to host a big ole cooking party and we can all learn how to make different stuff. Fun and yummy. That's my kinda party.
So, the take away? After a lifetime (I'll be 35 in September, and I've been on this path for almost 2 years) of complete and total obsession with food, not eating, and being sick, I can breathe easy if we have plans for dinner AND something afterward. After years of battling an eating disorder, I'm no longer embarrassed to eat in front of anyone else, I no longer think about food 24/7, I no longer hate my body, I no longer miss out on life.
I seem to have not only healed my body, but I just may have healed my soul too.
Loves!
Obsessed with food. will this make me fat? will this make me sick? how many calories in it? will I have to throw this up? is this bite worth hating myself when I look in the mirror?
And I'm not alone. Not by far. Because EVERYONE I KNOW is thinking the same things. EVERY FEMALE I'VE EVER KNOWN has been on a diet for a good portion of their lives. EVERYONE has looked at pictures proclaiming how fat they are. We all talk about it. Like it's just the cool thing to do to talk about all of the parts of your body that you hate. That you wish you could zap away.
I love and hate this. I love this because it shows how "plastic" we all can be. We can recognize this behavior in ourselves, and laugh about how ridiculous it is, while continuing to do it. I hate this because how many teen girls sat in that movie theater and went "if she hates her calves, mine are repulsive!" Not intending to at all, this scene sent a message that even skinny isn't skinny enough.
And I've had it.
The BILLION DOLLAR INDUSTRY that is the diet industry is profiting off of making us feel fat, shame for being fat, and giving hope that their product will be the cure that will fix all of the problems in your life. Cause when you're skinny you have no more problems right?
I have 2 little words for the diet industry. F*** YOU.
F*** YOU for pushing us to believe that we can't be good unless we live up to your standards.
F*** YOU for working arm in arm with Hollywood/ Fashion Industries to make the genetic freaks (yeah that's right Giselle...you are NOT THE NORM) the gold standard for woman.
F*** YOU for ROTTING US FROM THE INSIDE OUT. Knowingly. Willfully.
F*** YOU for KNOWING that your plan can not possibly be long term, that it will have TERRIBLE health consequences, and for pushing it anyway all in the name of the almighty dollar.
I read somewhere (and try as I might, I cannot find this blogpost again... ARGH) that the diet industry started after World War II. And it started because the men in power at the time were scared. Women had to start working, since their husbands were off fighting. Working outside of the home had given women some empowerment, and men were scared as hell. If they weren't able to keep their women at home and in-line, what would this country come to? So, they decided to hit us another way. Kill off our confidence by making us feel less than. Telling us that the way we looked, now that we were out in the work world, was the only important thing, and if we didn't measure up? Well then we simply were not worthy. I have zero idea where she got her information, but as far as all of the other research I've seen as to when the diet industry started? It all lines up. And so I choose to believe her. I think it's the same thing that happened with the mommy wars. Just more ways for women to tear each other apart and down. And this makes me RAGE.
I grew up in the 80's and 90's. Margarine was the healthiest thing for you! Buy that tub of country crock- butter is bad! So fattening! Instead eat this....only part of it is made out of plastic. Yup. Plastic. NEVER EVER EVER eat eggs! Especially the yolks! The cholesterol will kill you immediately! Don't use salt, use this fake it-kinda-tastes-like-salt-but-it's-all-chemicals-so-it's-good-for-you! NEVER EAT FAT! Fat makes you fat. Don't eat calories! Calories make you fat! Here, we created these little pretty blue and pink and yellow packets of powder that make everything SUUUPER sweet but no calories. and no fat. so dig in!
Snackwells, Fat Free Ice Cream (even the name is oxymoronic), fat free potato chips (they only cause a leeetle bit of anal leakage), fat free salad dressing, calorie free soda, sugar free everything.
Then it was onto NO CARBS! Parents watch out, bread kills. Put down that potato. Put down that fruit. Carbs will send you straight to your grave! Isn't that why all Italians weigh 400 pounds!!! (oh yeah, they don't...let's just not mention Italy or France or just Europe in general....) If you just eat bacon and meat and cheese all of your problems will be solved! Stay away from the rice! Look at all those fat people in Asia...err...no don't look there. Just STOP EATING CARBS.
Now, if you pay enough money, you can go ahead and buy a friendship with Jenny, pay for some pals over at weight watchers, or have meals sent to your house from Nutrisystem (you'll save SO MUCH MONEY in groceries....except that you have to supplement with fruits, vegetables, bread, dairy....). Or just pay someone to HYPNOTIZE YOU so that you never have to eat again! Or wire your jaw shut. Or only drink green smoothies.
And HATE LIFE.
Oh, and be sick. Extremely sick. Like, diarrhea, constipation, stomach pain, feeling like there's an army of little men stabbing you in every single one of your vital organs. Develop headaches, exhaustion, muscle weakness, loss of hormones, too many hormones, depression, anxiety. AND GAIN WEIGHT.
So that's basically the story of my dieting history...of my life. Because food and life? they go hand in hand. You need food to live. It's not something you can just not think about.
But today?? Today I'm claiming VICTORY over the fraudulent diet industry.
I have NEVER FELT HEALTHIER. My skin is clear, my hair is normal, my cramps are not forcing me to take copious amounts of drugs to give the smallest amount of comfort, I get headaches once every few months and only when I sleep with my neck in a weird position, I no longer have to always carry ibuprofen with me, or immodium, or tums because I DON'T GET HEARTBURN, and I rarely have stomach issues anymore....(just don't ask me how I'm feeling after I eat some garbage food at an amusement park). This coming from the girl who vomited EVERY SINGLE DAY for over a year and it couldn't be diagnosed. Who pooped up to 12 TIMES A DAY for no apparent reason. Who gained a CRAP TON of weight and bloat but was somehow malnutritioned.
This, my friends, is a miracle. Oh yeah. And the best part? Yes, I now fit into clothes that haven't seen the light of day since I got married. Yes I actually bought, and WEAR a two piece for the first time since my honeymoon. Yes I'm loving the way I look and feel right now. BUT. EVEN BETTER. My BMI is in the normal range, my percentage of body fat is in the normal range, my bone density is fabulous, my percentage of water in my body is spot on, I'm sleeping normally, my body is functioning as a body should , I'm not tired, weak, bloated, irritable, crampy, achy all the time.
And I'm sure your first thought is "What diet are you on?"
ZERO. No diet. because diets are of satan. "Well what exercise plan are you doing?" None. I run after my toddler. I clean my house. We go walking with friends sometimes. I once tried to do a pilates video, but babygirl decided to sit on my head so that didn't last long. We dance. We chase the cats. We go up and down the stairs a million times because someone LOOOOOVES the stairs now. I give her airplane rides (I'm sure that counts as an ab workout, right?).
The point is, I'm simply living my life. I'm making food the way food was made waaaay back in the day. Or, the way it's made now in countries where people eat a loaf of bread every day, accompanied by pasta, chocolate and wine, and they are all itty bitty with some nice curves.
I let it go. Do I obsess about food? Nope....but I do get REAL excited to figure out what I'm making for dinner. Because I know it's gonna be delish, the hubbs will be excited and continue to let me not ever have to go back to work, and babygirl will chow down. Do I eat dessert. Hells yeah. Do I buy cookies or cookie dough? No. I make dessert. I swear, the cookies that have been raved about by many only took maybe 15 minutes to put together and another 12 to cook.
My "secret" is to simply eat REAL FOOD. Did you know that fat is good for you? That your body CANNOT function without fat? So we buy Kerrygold butter and cheese. It's made from GRASS-FED COWS- imagine that, cows being allowed to eat what cows were designed to eat and not being injected with artificial hormones and antibiotics. Eating Kerrygold butter is unicorns dancing on rainbows good. We only drink organic whole milk (I'd like to move to raw milk, but someone I know doesn't feel like spending $12 per gallon...) Did you know that drinking anything but whole milk is giving you zero of the nutritional benefits you thought you were getting from drinking milk, and the process they have to make it skim or 1 or 2 percent is not a particularly healthy one? Same goes for ultra pasteurized milk...stay away- if the expiration date is a few months out do not buy!We use a crap ton of extra virgin olive oil (organic or certified, because a lot of companies are slipping nasty crap into their olive oil and are getting away with it). We eat bread. I just make it myself. And it's not really that hard, just a little time consuming with the rise times. Bread should have 4 ingredients in it-take a look at the packages you buy. It's INSANE what they're putting in there.
We buy ZERO processed foods (at least for babygirl and I. sometimes the hubbs gets some organic frozen meals to take to work if I didn't make his lunch for the next day). Do you know what they put in processed foods? A lot of chemical stuff to allow it to sit on a shelf and never expire. Also, they add gluten to almost everything. No wonder everyone and their mother is allergic to it. I was too. But not anymore!
Is this lifestyle easier? For me, it is. Mainly because I've always loved cooking, and I come from a family where everything was homemade. And also? I'm a food snob, and once I've tasted what REAL FOOD tastes like, I can't really go near the other stuff. It really is disgusting.
Now. Obviously there are some meals that I make that are fairly time consuming...like lasagna. And when I make it, I make it in huge quantities so I can freeze it and we can have a yummy made from scratch meal when I'm just feeling lazy. However, the majority of meals that I make take no longer than 30- 45 minutes to put together. I do buy pasta for a lot of the pasta dishes I make, but I buy organic, made in Italy pasta that has only 3 or 4 ingredients. So, not Barilla. Or the blue boxes.
I have discovered a bunch of different ways to save time, save some money, and make yummy food. So I'm thinking perhaps I just need to host a big ole cooking party and we can all learn how to make different stuff. Fun and yummy. That's my kinda party.
So, the take away? After a lifetime (I'll be 35 in September, and I've been on this path for almost 2 years) of complete and total obsession with food, not eating, and being sick, I can breathe easy if we have plans for dinner AND something afterward. After years of battling an eating disorder, I'm no longer embarrassed to eat in front of anyone else, I no longer think about food 24/7, I no longer hate my body, I no longer miss out on life.
I seem to have not only healed my body, but I just may have healed my soul too.
Loves!
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Closer to Fine- The Indigo Girls and Me
One of my all time favorite bands. The Indigo Girls provided the soundtrack to my high school and college days. Teenage angst, love, hate, break-ups and make-ups, searching for who you are...they were with me every step of the way. The first boy I really loved, and his passionate serenading me with "Romeo and Juliet" after we broke up, in front of my friends and cast mates (completely embarrassing then- now one of those moments I'll never forget because, seriously, when does that happen outside of the movies right??). My tool bag boyfriend and all the ways he made me feel less than had me scream singing many an IG song in my car parked at the inlet. My very first Spring Concert teaching my very first Freshmen Girls Choir where I arranged my very first song- "Let it be Me" with one brother on the piano and the other on the congas (introducing an entire new generation to the awesomeness that is Indigo Girls). Little failures and little victories all come flooding back just by putting on "Rites of Passage". My brother and I still love to rock out in the car to any one of their albums, naturally picking up the different harmonies and just chillin.
So, why am I waxing on about my band love?
Because last night was HUGE for me. MOMENTOUS. And I owe it all to our organic lifestyle.
Stop saying that's the dumbest thing you've ever heard. Hear me out.
Prior to last night, the last concert I attended was Creation, held at the Gorge, for 3 days, about 7 years ago. My brother and I went with a few friends. The entire time, the only thing I worried about was getting sick to my stomach in a place that only had portable toilets. Cause eww. So. I didn't eat. I tried not to drink too much water. Anything to keep my body from doing what it usually did. To say that this hindered my enjoyment is an understatement.
Since that time, I have been avoiding activities, hikes, experiences, LIFE in general. Because my body ALWAYS plays mutiny. The hubbs and I have missed out on so much because I didn't feel good. How crappy is that? How awful to miss a large chunk of your 20's and some of your 30's because of your literally shitty system?
So, while at the zoo with a friend, I saw that my fave, the Indigo Girls, were playing a concert. AT THE ZOO. And I decided that I was gonna take babygirl to her first, and best obviously, concert. Getting ready for it, I will admit, there was that little voice waaaaay back in my head trying to creep in, reminding me not to eat too much before or while we're there cause I don't need to get ill at the zoo, but I largely ignored it. I was just excited. Not nervous excited. Not "well i'm probably gonna puke right before and have to cancel" excited. Just plain ole excited.
And the concert? ROCKED. We had a blast. I didn't immediately spot all of the places where I could go and quietly puke if I needed to. I didn't have an escape plan if I had to end the night early (hubbs and I NEVER car pooled with other people. just in case.) I just went. And sang. And danced. And watched babygirl make new friends and enjoy some good music.
And that, my friends, is why I'm so passionate about this whole new lifestyle thing we've got going on over here. Because unless you've lived a life with an unknown illness that robbed you of every little single last bit of enjoyment and health, you have no idea how grateful I am to have a night like last night. And I want to have SO MANY of them. I want my daughter to have the kind of amazing experiences with me, and the hubbs, that I had with my parents growing up. Seriously, who else's mom threatens to ground them if they DON'T get on that roller coaster? (she knew I would love it if I would just stop worrying and get on. and I did). That woman was basically the director of all activities for us, our friends and some of the neighborhood kids. Every summer day was amazing- trips to Six Flags Great Adventure, trips to the beach, bike rides, volleyball in the backyard, bbq's at our house while a bazillion of us played "keep away" in our pool. (keep away is a fun, and dangerous game we created where you simply have to keep the ball away from the other team by ANY. MEANS. POSSIBLE.) Crab man - where our insanely strong dad would walk sideways throughout the pool, grab you under his arm and you had to try to get away. Regardless of how many kids he captured at the same time, no one ever escaped. ever. Because he's crab man.
My parents were (and still are) young and fun and active and the memories they made for me, my brothers and all of our friends I will treasure forever. and I want that for babygirl. And we're well on our way to that now.
It's just kind of amazing what not vomiting daily can do for your life.
Loves!
So, why am I waxing on about my band love?
Because last night was HUGE for me. MOMENTOUS. And I owe it all to our organic lifestyle.
Stop saying that's the dumbest thing you've ever heard. Hear me out.
Prior to last night, the last concert I attended was Creation, held at the Gorge, for 3 days, about 7 years ago. My brother and I went with a few friends. The entire time, the only thing I worried about was getting sick to my stomach in a place that only had portable toilets. Cause eww. So. I didn't eat. I tried not to drink too much water. Anything to keep my body from doing what it usually did. To say that this hindered my enjoyment is an understatement.
Since that time, I have been avoiding activities, hikes, experiences, LIFE in general. Because my body ALWAYS plays mutiny. The hubbs and I have missed out on so much because I didn't feel good. How crappy is that? How awful to miss a large chunk of your 20's and some of your 30's because of your literally shitty system?
So, while at the zoo with a friend, I saw that my fave, the Indigo Girls, were playing a concert. AT THE ZOO. And I decided that I was gonna take babygirl to her first, and best obviously, concert. Getting ready for it, I will admit, there was that little voice waaaaay back in my head trying to creep in, reminding me not to eat too much before or while we're there cause I don't need to get ill at the zoo, but I largely ignored it. I was just excited. Not nervous excited. Not "well i'm probably gonna puke right before and have to cancel" excited. Just plain ole excited.
And the concert? ROCKED. We had a blast. I didn't immediately spot all of the places where I could go and quietly puke if I needed to. I didn't have an escape plan if I had to end the night early (hubbs and I NEVER car pooled with other people. just in case.) I just went. And sang. And danced. And watched babygirl make new friends and enjoy some good music.
And that, my friends, is why I'm so passionate about this whole new lifestyle thing we've got going on over here. Because unless you've lived a life with an unknown illness that robbed you of every little single last bit of enjoyment and health, you have no idea how grateful I am to have a night like last night. And I want to have SO MANY of them. I want my daughter to have the kind of amazing experiences with me, and the hubbs, that I had with my parents growing up. Seriously, who else's mom threatens to ground them if they DON'T get on that roller coaster? (she knew I would love it if I would just stop worrying and get on. and I did). That woman was basically the director of all activities for us, our friends and some of the neighborhood kids. Every summer day was amazing- trips to Six Flags Great Adventure, trips to the beach, bike rides, volleyball in the backyard, bbq's at our house while a bazillion of us played "keep away" in our pool. (keep away is a fun, and dangerous game we created where you simply have to keep the ball away from the other team by ANY. MEANS. POSSIBLE.) Crab man - where our insanely strong dad would walk sideways throughout the pool, grab you under his arm and you had to try to get away. Regardless of how many kids he captured at the same time, no one ever escaped. ever. Because he's crab man.
My parents were (and still are) young and fun and active and the memories they made for me, my brothers and all of our friends I will treasure forever. and I want that for babygirl. And we're well on our way to that now.
It's just kind of amazing what not vomiting daily can do for your life.
Loves!
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Five Minute Friday: Broken
What started out as an idealic relationship with God (I mean, I SAW HIM when I was 3, hanging out with my recently deceased Nana, telling me every little thing was gonna be alright), turned into a struggle of I'm-not-worthy-enough that still rears its ugly head every now and again.
An entry for Lisa Jo Baker's blog for Five Minute Friday.
I was molested by a female neighbor when I was 5. We were playing doctor. I didn't realize what had really gone on- but my mom noticed I was red and swollen and asked what happened. We didn't play with those neighbors anymore. Something similar happened with a female babysitter a few years later, but I didn't tell anyone. It felt dirty and wrong, and I didn't want to get in trouble.
Combine that with a volatile divorce that essentially ended the relationship I had with my father until well after college, and you have the perfect recipe for a lost little girl with zero self-worth, searching for love from male friends since females were not to be trusted. My mom is the only reason I survived with some shred of God's love for me.
I decided I would be a virgin until marriage. Until senior prom night- when that decision was taken from me while I was asleep. (I know, who falls asleep while making out with a boyfriend?) I woke up after it started and didn't want him to feel bad, so I didn't say anything. And also? I didn't break up with him. Nope. We had sex so I had to marry him, right? Enter the next 9 months of the worst. relationship. ever.
Did I mention I had an eating disorder through high school and most of college? So yeah. There's that.
And then it was yet another poor choice in mate. One who made me feel worthless. One who gave me a ring. Luckily, one I figured out was NOT the right one before the wedding.
But. That led to a string of one night stand-ish type encounters. Things I don't want to think about. Things I cringe about. That leave me wondering how in the world I did not end up pregnant or with a disease. God watched and protected me. As much as I was pushing His love away.
I tried to get back on the right track. I dated a super Christian boy. He was amazing. I fell hard. But. He couldn't get passed my past. Unlovable. Unworthy. Used. Unclean. Broken. Into a million little pieces.
And now? I have a husband I'm madly in love with. I have a babygirl I'd give my life for. They have helped to build me back up. Help me see my purpose. It's taken YEARS. Struggles. Cursing. Fighting so hard so he would just leave. so I wouldn't be left. But he loved me through it.
And then my church. My amazing church family that finally sent a message of pure LOVE and GRACE. Of "you are forgiven" and "you are cherished" instead of "who could ever want a rose that has been passed around by so many hands". a rebuilding of spirit. a rebirth of soul.
There are days I still feel broken. dirty. slutty. But God lifts me up. always. dusts me off. whispers I'm loved. you're mine. nothing will change that. you're clean because I LOVE YOU.
An entry for Lisa Jo Baker's blog for Five Minute Friday.
I was molested by a female neighbor when I was 5. We were playing doctor. I didn't realize what had really gone on- but my mom noticed I was red and swollen and asked what happened. We didn't play with those neighbors anymore. Something similar happened with a female babysitter a few years later, but I didn't tell anyone. It felt dirty and wrong, and I didn't want to get in trouble.
Combine that with a volatile divorce that essentially ended the relationship I had with my father until well after college, and you have the perfect recipe for a lost little girl with zero self-worth, searching for love from male friends since females were not to be trusted. My mom is the only reason I survived with some shred of God's love for me.
I decided I would be a virgin until marriage. Until senior prom night- when that decision was taken from me while I was asleep. (I know, who falls asleep while making out with a boyfriend?) I woke up after it started and didn't want him to feel bad, so I didn't say anything. And also? I didn't break up with him. Nope. We had sex so I had to marry him, right? Enter the next 9 months of the worst. relationship. ever.
Did I mention I had an eating disorder through high school and most of college? So yeah. There's that.
And then it was yet another poor choice in mate. One who made me feel worthless. One who gave me a ring. Luckily, one I figured out was NOT the right one before the wedding.
But. That led to a string of one night stand-ish type encounters. Things I don't want to think about. Things I cringe about. That leave me wondering how in the world I did not end up pregnant or with a disease. God watched and protected me. As much as I was pushing His love away.
I tried to get back on the right track. I dated a super Christian boy. He was amazing. I fell hard. But. He couldn't get passed my past. Unlovable. Unworthy. Used. Unclean. Broken. Into a million little pieces.
And now? I have a husband I'm madly in love with. I have a babygirl I'd give my life for. They have helped to build me back up. Help me see my purpose. It's taken YEARS. Struggles. Cursing. Fighting so hard so he would just leave. so I wouldn't be left. But he loved me through it.
And then my church. My amazing church family that finally sent a message of pure LOVE and GRACE. Of "you are forgiven" and "you are cherished" instead of "who could ever want a rose that has been passed around by so many hands". a rebuilding of spirit. a rebirth of soul.
There are days I still feel broken. dirty. slutty. But God lifts me up. always. dusts me off. whispers I'm loved. you're mine. nothing will change that. you're clean because I LOVE YOU.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
a blog to apologize for not blogging
Yup. It's summer.
Apparently, it doesn't matter that I don't have a job. Summer break is summer break, and I am SLACKING at this whole blog thing. Granted, there's a bunch going on right now (just figuring out the rest of our lives and all, no big deal). But still. I feel bad.
My intent was to go back and read my old blogs and find the topics that I said I would cover in a later post and then actually do that.
Yeah. That hasn't happened yet.
So this is my apology to you, along with an I-promise-to-do-better. Later. Like, when the sun goes away again for another 10 months. Right now, girlfriend and I are enjoying our outside time. Vitamin D and tan. Fixes everything.
In the meantime, I am thinking about what else I'd like to cover here. And here are some of my flashes of brilliance:
- Fluoride and why you should never use it
- watch "Food, Inc" and blog about it....finally
- Alcohol owned by Big Ag
- some more random mom posts, since babygirl IS the most dramatic child ever. EVER.
- Vaccination- or "how I hope not to lose friends and alienate people, but I have to divulge everything I've researched, but I promise I don't think you're the devil for vaccinating your children"
So. I should get on that, huh.
Anyway, if you have something you'd like me to post about, you should let me know. Leave a comment. Visit my facebook page. Send a smoke signal. Lemme hear from ya!
Loves!
Apparently, it doesn't matter that I don't have a job. Summer break is summer break, and I am SLACKING at this whole blog thing. Granted, there's a bunch going on right now (just figuring out the rest of our lives and all, no big deal). But still. I feel bad.
My intent was to go back and read my old blogs and find the topics that I said I would cover in a later post and then actually do that.
Yeah. That hasn't happened yet.
So this is my apology to you, along with an I-promise-to-do-better. Later. Like, when the sun goes away again for another 10 months. Right now, girlfriend and I are enjoying our outside time. Vitamin D and tan. Fixes everything.
In the meantime, I am thinking about what else I'd like to cover here. And here are some of my flashes of brilliance:
- Fluoride and why you should never use it
- watch "Food, Inc" and blog about it....finally
- Alcohol owned by Big Ag
- some more random mom posts, since babygirl IS the most dramatic child ever. EVER.
- Vaccination- or "how I hope not to lose friends and alienate people, but I have to divulge everything I've researched, but I promise I don't think you're the devil for vaccinating your children"
So. I should get on that, huh.
Anyway, if you have something you'd like me to post about, you should let me know. Leave a comment. Visit my facebook page. Send a smoke signal. Lemme hear from ya!
Loves!
Friday, July 19, 2013
It keeps me up at night...
This is not an easy post. This is what I think about when the lights are out and the fam's asleep and the noise of the day has finally turned off. It's also something I'm not sure I'll ever know the answer to, or if I even want an answer to. Just some ramblings that I thought I'd share...because I can't be the first mom to struggle with this.
If you're new here, I am the proud mamma of a preemie babygirl. Born 10 weeks early due to placental abruption, she flew into this world dramatically and forcefully, and that's just how she likes it. She's now almost 23 months old (about 20 months adjusted age), and learning new things every day.
But that's just it. She's not learning the same things that other kiddos are learning. Some of that is most likely my fault- I don't do a lot of learning based play with her. We don't go over our colors, our letters, our animals. We throw tennis balls, we dance wildly to Pandora, or just the music in our heads. We tickle fight. We giggle. We cook dinner together. We clean together. She wears all of my underwear around her neck. And anything with handles is her new purse that she prances around with. We have naked time, and she attempts to pee in her potty (sometimes just holding onto it as she sprays down the floor). We read the books she picks out. Usually more than once. She tries to dress herself, which a lot of times ends up looking like this:
we take walks. we hang out with our buddies. we have long conversations- not quite sure how but girlfriend connects with me without having to know the words. I just know what she's thinking, feeling, wanting. And she gets what I'm saying to her.
She's finally picking up on more words, but she's not really using them that much. She repeats words when we ask her to, and she follows directions fabulously. But outside of the CONSTANT babbling and play acting, she feels zero need to say real words to us. (Of course, minus the HI DA!!! that the hubbs gets every time he walks in the door).
And therein lies the rub. The one that gets me all insomnia like. The voice in my head that has been telling me since college when I worked at a summer camp for special needs children and adults, that it was practice for my life. The quite insistence in my gut that I not get her vaccinated, because I know that she'll be changed forever by it. The something in my heart telling me that babygirl is just gonna be a bit different than her buddies.
Kiddos far younger than her have mastered some of these speaking skills that she doesn't have/ use yet. And I know that every kid works at their own pace. I really do. But that doesn't stop the voice.
And I know that she is doing things now that most kiddos her age don't do. Life skill type things. She knows how to bathe herself. She buckles herself into everything completely unassisted. She stops and really THINKS about everything- the mechanics of it. She does NOT stop to think about climbing anything and everything- but as far as how things work, she's a mini hubbs- the little engineer. She knows how to dress herself, shoes on correct feet and all. Independent doesn't begin to describe it. Mamma gets shooed away a lot.
And yet. I'm not enrolling her in every let's-learn-our-colors classes like I thought I would. I'm not taking her to speech therapists. Please, she hasn't even seen her pediatrician since January. Part of it is the different studies I'm reading on all the different methods of parenting around the world. The one that caught my eye? Primary School starts at age 7 in Finland. And they "learn how to learn". It's a fascinating article, and one I hold close to heart, since that seems to be the strategy I'm going with currently.
I thought it might just be laziness on my part (and maybe it partly is), but the time I have to spend with her I really don't want to be forcing her to learn things that I feel will come naturally at some point. Having said that, I now of course am a little worried that words aren't coming quite as naturally as I thought they would. And since we've done heavy attachment parenting, I thought maybe she's not talking because all of her needs are being met so she doesn't need to. Should I ignore her so she'll ask me for things?
It's scary, this whole parenting thing. Like, I haven't said all of this to ANYONE (hubbs and mom included). we can call it internet bravery. Sometimes the scary is less when typed. But sometimes the scary is all I can think about.
So. I read. A lot. And sometimes it's so comforting. To see that other cultures don't put SO MUCH into milestones. And their kids turn out just as smart. And sometimes I feel like a bad parent who has failed my child. But then I see how happy she is pretty much always and think I must have done something right.
This ball of busy will simply teach me more about God's timing. A lesson I'm not so sure I wanted just now, thank you very much.
My teenie preemie will someday learn to talk. I'm almost sure of it. When she's good and ready (stubborn little thing from day 1). And she might be a little behind her buddies. But she might catch up. And if she doesn't? Well, we'll tackle that when the time comes. I'm learning to take it in stride. I'm learning to deal with that voice. I'm sleeping a little better, sometimes.
Loves!
If you're new here, I am the proud mamma of a preemie babygirl. Born 10 weeks early due to placental abruption, she flew into this world dramatically and forcefully, and that's just how she likes it. She's now almost 23 months old (about 20 months adjusted age), and learning new things every day.
But that's just it. She's not learning the same things that other kiddos are learning. Some of that is most likely my fault- I don't do a lot of learning based play with her. We don't go over our colors, our letters, our animals. We throw tennis balls, we dance wildly to Pandora, or just the music in our heads. We tickle fight. We giggle. We cook dinner together. We clean together. She wears all of my underwear around her neck. And anything with handles is her new purse that she prances around with. We have naked time, and she attempts to pee in her potty (sometimes just holding onto it as she sprays down the floor). We read the books she picks out. Usually more than once. She tries to dress herself, which a lot of times ends up looking like this:
She's finally picking up on more words, but she's not really using them that much. She repeats words when we ask her to, and she follows directions fabulously. But outside of the CONSTANT babbling and play acting, she feels zero need to say real words to us. (Of course, minus the HI DA!!! that the hubbs gets every time he walks in the door).
And therein lies the rub. The one that gets me all insomnia like. The voice in my head that has been telling me since college when I worked at a summer camp for special needs children and adults, that it was practice for my life. The quite insistence in my gut that I not get her vaccinated, because I know that she'll be changed forever by it. The something in my heart telling me that babygirl is just gonna be a bit different than her buddies.
Kiddos far younger than her have mastered some of these speaking skills that she doesn't have/ use yet. And I know that every kid works at their own pace. I really do. But that doesn't stop the voice.
And I know that she is doing things now that most kiddos her age don't do. Life skill type things. She knows how to bathe herself. She buckles herself into everything completely unassisted. She stops and really THINKS about everything- the mechanics of it. She does NOT stop to think about climbing anything and everything- but as far as how things work, she's a mini hubbs- the little engineer. She knows how to dress herself, shoes on correct feet and all. Independent doesn't begin to describe it. Mamma gets shooed away a lot.
And yet. I'm not enrolling her in every let's-learn-our-colors classes like I thought I would. I'm not taking her to speech therapists. Please, she hasn't even seen her pediatrician since January. Part of it is the different studies I'm reading on all the different methods of parenting around the world. The one that caught my eye? Primary School starts at age 7 in Finland. And they "learn how to learn". It's a fascinating article, and one I hold close to heart, since that seems to be the strategy I'm going with currently.
I thought it might just be laziness on my part (and maybe it partly is), but the time I have to spend with her I really don't want to be forcing her to learn things that I feel will come naturally at some point. Having said that, I now of course am a little worried that words aren't coming quite as naturally as I thought they would. And since we've done heavy attachment parenting, I thought maybe she's not talking because all of her needs are being met so she doesn't need to. Should I ignore her so she'll ask me for things?
It's scary, this whole parenting thing. Like, I haven't said all of this to ANYONE (hubbs and mom included). we can call it internet bravery. Sometimes the scary is less when typed. But sometimes the scary is all I can think about.
So. I read. A lot. And sometimes it's so comforting. To see that other cultures don't put SO MUCH into milestones. And their kids turn out just as smart. And sometimes I feel like a bad parent who has failed my child. But then I see how happy she is pretty much always and think I must have done something right.
This ball of busy will simply teach me more about God's timing. A lesson I'm not so sure I wanted just now, thank you very much.
My teenie preemie will someday learn to talk. I'm almost sure of it. When she's good and ready (stubborn little thing from day 1). And she might be a little behind her buddies. But she might catch up. And if she doesn't? Well, we'll tackle that when the time comes. I'm learning to take it in stride. I'm learning to deal with that voice. I'm sleeping a little better, sometimes.
Loves!
How AGT helps restore my faith in humanity
Yup. I'm a sucker for a good story. I also apparently enjoy weeping at a weekly scheduled time. And America's Got Talent is that fix for me.
Would you like to know exactly what prompted this post?
In the midst of reality shows highlighting stage moms who yell at, berate, embarrass, and harass their children into doing better, looking better, being better, I saw something that made me weep with joy.
Perhaps you remember last year's large dance group- they specialized in Latin dances, and the age ranges were crazy, like 5 to 18. Their instructors were a husband and wife team who glowed with pride every time their group performed.
This year, their very young son and daughter competed, separately, with a dance partner. They are amazeballs. The precision and understanding of those dances blew. my. mind. And then I started thinking. Oh man, these kids don't get to be kids. That's not cool. Is it really worth it for them to lose out on their childhood just to act like little adults and hope to become famous? I really started to get angry at parents who forced their kids to grow up too quickly.
And then Vegas happened. And the little girl and her partner fell. And they got right back up, on the beat!, and continued on as if nothing happened. But after the performance she crumpled. And I was cringing at what we would see.
And then her parents. Her fabulous parents. He said- everyone falls. every dancer falls. I fall. It's how you get back up that makes the difference. And you got up like a professional. And then the hugs and I'm so prouds and giggles ensued, and I wept. Because I want that for every kid. It is an amazing testament to the power of positive coaching. You don't need to be an "Abby" (Dance Moms) or a pageant/ stage mom to "get" your kids to be the best.
And I'm taking it all in, because this mamma? This mamma used to be a coach. And no matter how much love I heaped on my girls....I know I heaped on a lot of yelling too. Some moments I'm super not proud of. I was young (22 when I started), but I can't blame it all on that. But I'm learning. And I'm glad I got schooled in a great way from watching reality tv.
So my babygirl can be involved with whatever she wants (right now it's looking like gymnastics or learning to be a monkey). And I'm learning to be the best coach I can be for her.
And trying to contain my crazy.
Loves!
Would you like to know exactly what prompted this post?
In the midst of reality shows highlighting stage moms who yell at, berate, embarrass, and harass their children into doing better, looking better, being better, I saw something that made me weep with joy.
Perhaps you remember last year's large dance group- they specialized in Latin dances, and the age ranges were crazy, like 5 to 18. Their instructors were a husband and wife team who glowed with pride every time their group performed.
This year, their very young son and daughter competed, separately, with a dance partner. They are amazeballs. The precision and understanding of those dances blew. my. mind. And then I started thinking. Oh man, these kids don't get to be kids. That's not cool. Is it really worth it for them to lose out on their childhood just to act like little adults and hope to become famous? I really started to get angry at parents who forced their kids to grow up too quickly.
And then Vegas happened. And the little girl and her partner fell. And they got right back up, on the beat!, and continued on as if nothing happened. But after the performance she crumpled. And I was cringing at what we would see.
And then her parents. Her fabulous parents. He said- everyone falls. every dancer falls. I fall. It's how you get back up that makes the difference. And you got up like a professional. And then the hugs and I'm so prouds and giggles ensued, and I wept. Because I want that for every kid. It is an amazing testament to the power of positive coaching. You don't need to be an "Abby" (Dance Moms) or a pageant/ stage mom to "get" your kids to be the best.
And I'm taking it all in, because this mamma? This mamma used to be a coach. And no matter how much love I heaped on my girls....I know I heaped on a lot of yelling too. Some moments I'm super not proud of. I was young (22 when I started), but I can't blame it all on that. But I'm learning. And I'm glad I got schooled in a great way from watching reality tv.
So my babygirl can be involved with whatever she wants (right now it's looking like gymnastics or learning to be a monkey). And I'm learning to be the best coach I can be for her.
And trying to contain my crazy.
Loves!
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