Even in a pandemic, I didn't blog. I'm the literal worst.

Being home all day, every day, for the last bit of forever, still somehow did not lead me to blog. I have zero excuses. I mean, I have *some* excuses, but I'll save them and just recap. Charleston was kicking my ass all over the place. Between the never ending mold, the humidity, and the excessive heat AT ALL MONTHS OF THE YEAR, I was D O N E. Hubbs' job had us relocate to just outside of Paris, France for 3 months (yes, we lived in France for 3 FULL MONTHS and I still have yet to blog about it because, again, literal worst.) We discovered that the fresh air, the mold free environment, and the food- good Lord THE FOOD- not only improved my anxiety, but had boyfriend absolutely blossoming. We agreed then that we needed to get out of SC as quickly as possible. It broke our hearts to leave our cul-de-sac crew. We could not have dreamed up a better group of people to neighbor with, and leaving them was gut wrenching. Leaving the house that spent 5 years trying to kill me? Not so much.

  Hubbs got a temporary (at first) position at the Boeing in Philly, and we moved back to where my heart has always called home- New Jersey. Don't laugh. It's gorgeous here and it's one of the most populated states, so, you know, we're right and Jersey rocks. It turns out that all those years Hubbs tried to get a position in Philly, his resume wasn't even looked at. When we got married, he was not a citizen of the US. A few months after we got married, he became a citizen.... and forgot to put that information into the Boeing system. As Philly is a military site, he couldn't get a job there. He became a citizen in 2006. He updated the Boeing system (accidentally) in 2019. Oops. Insert face palm here. Since neither of us wanted his commute to be an hour and a half, we decided to live in South Jersey, about an hour away from both of our parents. Jersey is a very small state. And somehow I had never been to south Jersey. I don't even understand the logistics of that, but it is what it is. We're finding it's an entirely different state over here....and also I can't stop referring to us as "up here" to everyone in our family when we are most definitely down and a little over, because directions are hard. We had a fantastic townhouse rental for the first year while waiting to see if the job would become permanent that had basically a professional kitchen (the landlord owns a bunch of restaurants). I will always and forever miss the fridge there. Le sigh.

We started looking at houses in February 2020. We saw a LOT. A ton that I thought I would love- open floor plans, newer construction, giant kitchens... and they all sucked. Like didn't take us more than a 5 minute tour to decide thanks but no. There was one farmhouse, from the 1850's, that I had my heart set on. THE FIREPLACE that had room for like 8 people inside of it. Dreamy. We finally got to see it...and I swear it was haunted. I could not get out of there fast enough. I have lived with enough ghosts (seriously) and I can not handle that ish right now. We had one more house to see. From the pics on zillow, I was 1,000% not interested. At all. It was of course hubbs' first choice. We pulled up, and it felt like home. It was a no brainer. Our 1853 farmhouse had been lovingly rehabbed by the people we were buying it from, and they stayed as true as they could to the original. They kept the original floors, and the walls that needed repair they kept plaster instead of dry wall. It used to be a 15 acre raw dairy farm, but there are only 3 acres now. We do have 2 giant barns and 2 huge silos which still contain a lot of old equipment, so huge win!

I still can't believe we live here. Also. If someone could give me some tips on how to turn my black thumb green, that'd be great. It seems like a huge waste to not be growing our own food since we have AN ORCHARD with all sorts of delicious fruit trees. But I'm the black plague of plantlife. Anyway, a whole separate post needs to be done on this house and all the work we've done and aaaaallllll the pics and how it's led to my obsession with Cheap Old Houses (who will hopefully be visiting us someday!). 

 

And not to be all cavalier about it, but I've been in some serious anxiety/ depression spirals these last few years. Turns out, trauma and mold and health scares and unknowns with your kiddos can build up and explode and leave you grateful for a pandemic where not leaving your house is recommended. Again, separate post for aaaallll of it. I'm grateful I can see the other side now, and aware I still have so much work to do. That was heavier than intended for a "hey remember me!?!?!?" post but here we are. 

And then there's these clowns.

Our circus has expanded by one old dog- an 8 year old lab/bull dog rescue who is the sweetest and also who murders the groundhogs on our property with little to no blood shed, so also very handy to have around. Girlfriend is an actual artist- her paintings, drawings, and cake decorations are mind blowing, and her love for all things animals knows no bounds. And boyfriend is still Houdini reincarnate, class clown and best smoosher. I may have had to drag hubbs back to the dirty Jers, but he's pretty excited about his giant garage and workshop so I think he's forgiven me. These peeps are my whole entire heart and I can't believe we have a 10 and 7 year old. On a farm. With a dog. Like, how???

 Buying and selling houses and moving amidst a pandemic was not as much fun as you'd think. But 2020 for us will always be the year we moved to our forever home. Life looks absolutely nothing like I thought it would 20 years ago when I met hubbs, but it turned out to be what we didn't know we needed. 💖

Life is Lifey

Well. It's been over a year. And I think "perhaps I should just give up on this blogging thing", and then my mind spins at night with aaaaaalllllll the things I want and need to say. And I say "tomorrow morning I shall blog." And morning comes. And no blogging is accomplished. Because mornings are of the devil and I renounce them.

There are SO MANY THINGS to say. I'm not sure where to begin but here's a brief-ish rundown of life. Boyfriend turned 5 in March and remains mostly non-verbal (he chatters constantly, he sings songs with a lot of the words in them, he imitates girlfriend a lot, but there's not a ton of spontaneous talking in a language we understand going on). We missed his evaluation that we had to wait a year to get because we ended up MOVING TO PARIS for 3 months (there will be blogging on this FOR SURE coming soon) the day after it was scheduled and there was no way we could make the appointment. Which is now rescheduled for October. I have thoughts on this. Also, we found more mold in our house because of course we did. I've had lots of health nonsense and anxiety and adrenal fatigue and guilt over all of it. We've taken a break from the myriad of supplements for boyfriend and I, and a break from the diets (because hello France!). My favorite phrase has been "opt out" and I *may* have overused it a bunch this past year- ie opting out of answering my phone, going out in public at all, being social...  So, you know, super healthy.

I turned 40 September of 2018, and as a surprise, the hubbs scheduled a weekend away for me with my Rain City girls in Seabrook, WA. Booked my flight, and contacted them to help work the details for a beachy vacay. He gave me the gift in August and told me I had a month to get my shit together, get over my anxiety, and get ready to finally get the break that I desperately needed. Cut to me having mini panic attacks over leaving my children overnight for the very first time and being 3,000 miles away. Plus, I'm the wooooooorst traveler. I used to have no issues (except motion sickness, but that's what Bonine is for). But now? I rely on hubbs to help navigate my ridiculous anxiety about everything and to hold my luggage while I go puke. The week before the trip, I got a UTI, which I have NEVER EVER HAD BEFORE IN MY LIFE. I took all the natural things to make it go away, but my kidneys started to really hurt. So during a hurricane when nothing else was open I went to the ER. And they gave me antibiotics. Which wrecked my whole digestive system and left me not able to get out of bed. I only took the meds for 3 days, left one day for my body to hopefully return to semi-normal, and I got my ass on that plane. There was a ton of dry heaving and crying. But I did it. And it was one of the best weekends of my life. My girls are amazing. The ocean air was refreshing (AND NOT A THOUSAND DEGREES!!). It was exactly what I needed, and I would like a weekend away every month.

The best way to enter my 40's!

I had my first thermography scan done. I didn't want to do a mammogram- all that radiation and the rates on detection are not that great. And honestly, with all of my issues with endometriosis and digestive troubles, I'm thinking I've got other body parts I need to worry about. The scan covered every little bit of my body, was painless (although you do stand naked in a room getting pics taken for about an hour, but it was way less awkward than I thought it would be), and happily the only issue it showed was that my entire back is a hot mess of spasms, which is not surprising.

I also started seeing a counselor for my anxiety. Just talking to her lifted a large elephant off my chest. Enough that I decided to take the kids to the beach by myself while the hubbs was traveling. I quickly realized why I don't do that solo- boyfriend put on quite the show when I tried to drag his fully dressed body out of the ocean (it was late October), and I threw out my back getting his kicking and screaming self back to the car. And of course, no one stared judgementally at us at all.  But hey. I did it.

And I've done A LOT of reading. I mean, I love reading, I love researching, but MAN I've done a crap ton of not for fun reading. Along with homeschooling with a new (and AMAZING) curriculum, The Good and The Beautiful. I've been looking into red light therapy, oxygen therapy, a trillion different things to get boyfriend talking, to figure out how to make my body deal with heat again. How to detox again from mold. But most importantly, reading all sorts of stuff for boyfriend.

So. My thoughts. We're obviously aware that boyfriend is different from "typical" kiddos. He's definitely delayed in some areas- talking is the most noticeable. He's advanced in climbing, Houdini-ing his way out of things- especially those that are safety related, taking apart and putting together all the things, and hiding really really well. He has a laser focus with puzzles and figuring things out. All traits he shares with his older sister, who also didn't really talk until she was 3.

He makes great eye contact with daddy, sister and I. Not always with other people. But I have this same issue- I still find it SO challenging to make eye contact, especially that lasts for more than a second or two. Until fairly recently, we weren't getting much in the way of listening from him. But now he follows directions and doesn't try to run away. We can take walks now and he mostly stays with us. Which is a huge change. Thank God, cause there are only so many tiny heart attacks I can have on a daily basis. He has his fair share of meltdowns and tantrums. Partly from not being able to just say what he wants...although he does a real good job of letting us know what he's after without using words. Lucky for me, I'm able to comfort him really quickly. Not so fortunate for others who have tried to watch him. He imitates other kiddos and usually likes to play with them, although there are times he'd rather just do his own thing (like mamma like son). He knows the alphabet and how to count to twenty, and actually count things, not just say the numbers. He's not potty trained yet. That's sort of on both of us. I'm reluctant to push it when he can't tell us when he has to go AND I just got his pooping to where it needs to be, going every day. He was an every 3rd day pooper, leading to SIBO and gut nonsense. I don't want to rock this boat because I will cry all the tears if he starts holding his poop. I've dedicated YEARS of my life to being a poop doula and I'm 100 hundred percent all done with that. So if he stays in diapers a little longer, so be it. He loves being naked, and hands us a diaper when he has to go. But he refuses to go on the potty. He'll just hold it and hold it. So here we are.

I've been reading the book "Differently Wired" which I absolutely love love love. Based off of the descriptions in her book, and some of the checklists I've completed, to me it seems like boyfriend has a global delay and SPD. Obviously I'm not an expert, but I am an expert on boyfriend. And reading this book has given me confidence that yes, I do know what's best for my son. And it's helping me really stop and think about what is best for him (and for me, as his parent). I see that he gets overwhelmed with too much stimulation, noise and sight. We discovered this in DisneyLand Paris for sure. His little heart is so so sensitive. He does not like to be yelled at. It shatters him completely and he shuts down. So if we want him to learn not to do something, shouting is not the way to go. Unless he's about to run into traffic.

And I'm also learning that I don't always know everything, and trying new things for him isn't a bad thing and my anxious brain just needs to settle the hell down. I was convinced that 4th of July fireworks at a crowded boardwalk was a recipe for disaster. But hubbs convinced me to try it. And he loved every single second of it. Finding the balance of what gets me anxious vs what are good experiences for him is frickin hard. And we've blown it plenty of times (can anyone say DON'T TAKE YOUR 5 YEAR OLD ON THE TOWER OF TERROR??)

Combine all of this with my crunchy, hippy, European take on schooling (see studies on Finland schools for instance, where they don't start until age 7 and they learn through play and they have some of the smartest kids on the planet right now) and what most parents are doing for their kids, and what we come up with is a constant battle in my brain questioning my gut instincts.

Brain- wow. all these people getting their kids into therapies and classes by the time they're 2 and 3 to get them to talk sooner. Maybe I should look for a specialized preschool? Should we do more speech and OT? should he be going 4 days a week?

Gut- hold up. He gets anxious when he's away from you for too long. You can't learn anything when you're stewing in panic. He's fabulous at independent play. He taught himself the alphabet and numbers. He's a really happy kid. Chill.

Brain- but this is scary! What if he never talks? What if he never potty trains? What if he never likes The Haunted Mansion?

Gut- he's saying words now. He even said "I want chocolate cookie". He's on his way to talking. And he always lets us know what he wants. You read him like a book. And he will not always want a diaper. Diapers suck. He'll figure it out. And some people hate rides. It happens. Life continues.

Brain- *asks a million more questions at really inopportune times and makes gut have excessive nervous poop. Brain needs to calm the eff down.

Add in a bunch of similar nonsense regarding girlfriend, my health, the state of our country, and "what was that noise" and that's basically the hamster wheel that is my brain.

All this to say, every body is different. Every personality is different. And yes, boyfriend is delayed, but also what if it's ok and acceptable for people to learn differently?

So. What was my point? I don't even know anymore. A post to say that life is lifey, and adulting is hard, and we've been adventuring, and I'm sorry it's been so ridiculously long. And thanks for giving me a space to work out all the angst in my brain.

Until I find another hour or two after bedtime, I'll leave you with a gratuitous France pic...

or 2.

SIBO- Because life wasn't interesting enough...

Well folks. It's pretty clear I suck at keeping up with this blog. It seems we keep finally mastering (or at least having some semblance of calm) about one crazy phase of life, when the next, more insane phase comes around to kick us right in the arse.

Currently, that phase is known as SIBO. That stands for Small Intestine Bacterial Overgrowth. This is one of those tricky things that can only be officially diagnosed via a 3 hour breath test, but a lot of markers for it show up in an intense stool sample. I say intense because it requires 3 separate days of multiple poop samples on each of those days. I had to take this test, as did boyfriend. And though it seems like I may have it, it's almost certain that Asher does. My almost 4 year old. Who is still not really communicating. And who loves all things cracker and chip-y. Which are forbidden on the suuuuuuuuper restrictive diet to treat SIBO. And here we go.

On top of this, he for sure has leaky gut, is leaking toxins, and his body is not absorbing any fats or proteins. Not awesome. But starts to explain a LOT about why he's not developmentally where he should be when it comes to the talking. Since your brain is 60% fats, and he's not getting any....also explains why he's on the small side.

Since we have been an all organic, mostly no processed foods family since girlfriend's surprise arrival in August of 2011, it seems a bit surprising that his little gut is in such turmoil. Of course, he did get some of this from me. And the aspirin I had to take every day of my pregnancy with him to prevent blood clots (thus preventing another placental abruption) probably didn't help. But I believe our fun little bout with mold helped to destroy his digestive system over the year and a half that we were unaware of it. Mold is a rat bastard and it has sucked the literal life out of our family and I'm ALL FREAKING DONE WITH EFFING MOLD. Though it seems I am not, cause here we are, still trying to get back to 100% health.

And honestly? I'll take this ALL DAY LONG over something that isn't fixable. I thank God daily that we figured this out early in the game so he's not plagued by life long stomach issues like his mamma. Ones that could lead to auto immune diseases if not kept in check. That when the autism word was thrown around last year while trying to figure out why he wasn't talking, that we didn't just say "OK" and not look any further about other health things. It's awfully hard to try to figure out what's wrong with your child when they can't communicate at all if something is wrong. If their tummy hurts. If certain foods make them feel gross. Luckily my kiddos are not pukers at all. But it makes it hard to know if there is tummy trouble. I waited entirely too long to do it, but I finally went with my gut and decided to check out his.

Did I in a million years think it would be this bad? Nope. Not even a little. His doc said that she's never seen the leaky gut numbers (there's an official name, that I think starts with a Z?? I don't know...) that bad. Did I think that when we decided to do a stool test for him it would launch us into a diet that makes it virtually impossible to eat out (which makes it pretty impossible to travel) and that would have him taking eleventy million supplements twice a day? I knew there might be some changes we had to make, but man I was not prepared for this.

The first sign that this was gonna be difficult? The SIBO diet does not allow any garlic or onion. NO. GARLIC. OR. ONION. What in the whole wide world is this nonsense? Find one food that isn't made with garlic or onion! Gah!!

But we've been figuring it out. With the help of the SIBO specific diet food guide I've been figuring out ways to make our food still yummy. And to add in a crap ton of sneaky veggies into everything. Because boyfriend has never been a fan of fruits and veggies, but his organs are pretty pissed about it, apparently.

One trick is making garlic infused olive oil for flavor. The other is you can use the green tops of scallions and chives in place of onions.

I've been posting the successful recipes on facebook and pinterest. My hope is that I can get more detailed recipes here. In between trying to shove all the syringes full of all the supplements into boyfriend's mouth 80 times a day. Ha!

But for now, I leave you with a recipe I came up with for smothered pork chops because I needed comfort food. And this did NOT disappoint.

"bread" the pork chops with almond flour, salt and pepper. Brown them in a cast iron skillet with EVOO. Remove from pan. Add some butter and some more almond flour- I think I used 2 to 3 tbsps of butter and probably 2 tbsps of almond flour. Then add pureed 1 yellow squash, 1 zucchini, and a bunch of green scallion tops. Add some dry mustard and sage. Then add bone broth (SIBO only allows you to use bone broth from beef because there is almost no cartilage on them). Add the pork back in and cook on low until meat is done. I served it with some roasted carrots and an arugula salad. I topped mine with feta cheese (not SIBO approved) but raw aged cheddar is and that would have been delish as well. Boyfriend is not a huge cheese fan so he didn't want the cheese.

This was stupid good. Seriously. Ava drank the gravy. And all the sneaky veggies in that gravy. Mwa-haha. Mamma's learned some tricks.

EDITED- I should add that since we've started the diet, the supplements, and doing an activated charcoal detox for him, boyfriend has made some HUGE strides in both speaking and in following directions and communicating. It's been pretty amazing, so I'm willing to do whatever it takes to continue!

Been a long time gone (or, why my brain hasn't really been functioning)

Yup. Forever. Once again, how long it took me to post. Not entirely my fault (some Blogger alternate universe loophole is that trying to access Blogger through Chrome means you no longer have a dashboard or any way to get to your blog. GOOD TIMES!) Technology is amazing. Except for when it doesn't work. Which is almost all the time in this house.

I digress.

I have been meaning to post about our fun little 8 week journey with a 3 year old in a full body cast at the height of the summer due to a broken femur. We found some fun tricks that helped us survive and not deal with the dreaded enema/ constipation nightmare that is typical of full body cast life. I will write this post one day. Hopefully in the near future.

Today, however, is reserved for the fun detour my health took and all the ways it made me a ball of stabby anxiousness.

So let's just jump right in, shall we?

For starters. People ask (and honestly I have contemplated this late at night too) "If you only eat organic, mainly non processed foods, and use all natural cleaning/ hygiene/ medicine products, why on earth are you so sick all the time?" This is the 6 million dollar question, friends. And though every body will have a different answer to this question, the overall reason is this-  because I am more in tune now with my body than I have ever been. I have cleaned up and out nastiness from years of chemical use on and in my body. So now, when I'm feeling "off", I try to solve the underlying issue, instead of masking the symptoms with more chemicals. Quick example. I used to have the absolute worst heart burn. My gastroenterologist put me on a prescription in a purple bottle (it's been a while and I'm totally blanking on the name of it). It helped for like, a week. And then it was even worse. I read up on it and realized that taking that pill daily was making the heart burn worse because it was blocking my body from making the acid necessary to break down foods. However, my body knew it needed acid to break down food with, and so made even more acid to make up for what the pill was blocking. A hellish circle of heartburn. So I started taking Braggs apple cider vinegar. And within a week, was feeling relief. Now I don't suffer from heartburn at all. (I don't understand all the science behind why something acidic like vinegar heals the heartburn issues. I don't science) So when the average person feels like crap, and the doc prescribes something that really only masks symptoms, down the road they could end up discovering they have cancer. Or an autoimmune disease. Or have a stroke. It feels like it comes out of nowhere, but maybe it's been building up all this time, little by little. Dealing with health stuff the way we do it sometimes means I'll feel real shitty for a while, but I'll be able to clear out whatever garbage is happening in my body, hopefully avoiding it getting to a serious health crisis place that's hard to cure.

There were a million and one things in my BO (Before Organic) life that I not only was able to deal with, but looooooved. Fabric softener, perfume, windex, scented candles, febreeze. Now, if I get a whiff of that stuff, it's instant pounding headache. Once you kick chemicals out of your life, your body does NOT want them back in. I happen to be ridiculously sensitive to all of it, but every crunchy person I know is the same way.

So, on this large scale overview of my body- I was starting to feel like utter garbage, and finally decided to get to the bottom of it.

From January 2017 through September 2017, the whole family was on a gluten, wheat, egg, peanut, chia seed, green pea, cashew, and watermelon free diet. We sent in a blood test for my son, which came back that he was highly intolerant to all of those things, plus a few other random ones. It was a huuuuuuuge change, and not well liked by any of us. We mastered it after a while, and boyfriend did  well on the diet. We finally started re-introducing those foods back in and he was fine with all of it.

I, on the other hand, was tanking fast.

I had stopped nursing boyfriend in June. And after 6+ years of either being pregnant or nursing, with no breaks, my hormones went ape shit. Off the walls insanity. My moods were uncontrollable, my period and ovulation were a nightmare (1 week of vomiting and constant nausea for period and for ovulation.) 2 full weeks every single month where I was completely non functioning. I had gained weight on the Asher diet, and felt awful every single time I ate. Those gluten free flours do not do well in bodies that don't have a gluten intolerance. Definitely more harmful than helpful.

And the surprise. My anxiety kicked it up into high gear. Looking back on my life, I realize that I've had low grade anxiety always. I never realized this. I thought it was totally normal to poop 12 times before you left the house to go anywhere, or always get nauseous when you have conversations with people (even friends and family). Or that everyone jumped straight to "they must have gotten in a car wreck and are lying on the side of the road because I called a half hour ago and still haven't heard back from them" (did I mention that I'm a sheer delight to be married to?) Suddenly, what was once my fun little quirk to deal with became crippling. It absolutely got worse after my back injury, mainly because I couldn't physically run after my kids and I have a son who's sole purpose in life is to run away from us and hide. But I still managed to meet up at a park every once in a while. Or take them food shopping. I stopped taking them or myself anywhere outside of our house without the hubbs. Which obviously put a ton of pressure on him. It didn't help that in the midst of this nonsense, he started traveling a ton for work. In the middle of September, he had to fly to Seattle for a week. I got my period, was literally throwing up as he was leaving for the airport, and I just started to spiral. My head and my arms went all tingly and numb, I couldn't really take deep breaths, and I showed girlfriend how to dial 911 and wrote down our address so she could spell it out for them if she couldn't wake me up. It was B A D. I called my mom and begged her to get on a plane and fly down- and she did because she is a saint and has a seat right next to Jesus saved for her. I called my friend Shannon and asked if she could come hang out with the kids until my mom got there, in case I passed out. And these are BIG STEPS for me. I never ask for help. It physically pains me to ask for help. This situation was dire. I really thought I might be dying.

Turns out, that's a panic attack. I had no idea. I truly believed that I would not be able to take care of my kids by myself. I could barely get out of bed. It became pretty clear that I needed to get to the bottom of my health issues, and probably start some counseling as well.

I set up an appointment with Merge Medical Center, which is a holistic center that tackles all sorts of stuff. They take a lot of tests, but it gives you the whole picture of what's going on. I also scheduled a Brain MRI, on the off chance that there was something going on since I have a blood clotting condition and my headaches and numbness and dizziness were freaking me right out.

A stool test, Bio scan, consultation going over every single thing that's every happened to me in my entire life, and 4 gallons of blood later, it turns out that I was a mess. I was in some serious adrenal fatigue- so every tiny little thing sent my fight or flight response into complete nuclear meltdown. My hormone levels were jacked up (I made zero estrogen the day they took my blood, which is pretty abnormal for my age). And I have a lot of infections in my gut and large intestine, and no good bacteria in my gut at all. It was no surprise then, that I was constantly feeling nauseous and panicked and moody and stabby. It was also clear that this was not gonna be an easy quick fix. The amount of supplements and vitamins I am taking, along with avoiding all sorts of random foods that were contributing to the near constant dizziness I was experiencing, is a little overwhelming, to be honest.

However. I'm seeing improvement. Every month, each period gets better and better. I have been able to take care of the kids while hubbs has been traveling without a panicky meltdown. I've been getting acupuncture to try to kickstart my hormones, and it has been fabulous. My body is starting to be able to handle heat again. Which is good news for my family, who wasn't particularly enjoying our 60 degree house in the winter time. (It still doesn't go above 65, because I'm part polar bear).

All this to say, it's been another crazy year here in Charleston. It certainly has not been uneventful down here. But I'm beyond grateful that there is a place like Merge, that looks at your entire health system to diagnose you. There is SUCH a strong bond between gut and mental health. So many functions are affected when your gut health is not up to par. Which is why we just took boyfriend there for a workup. I have a feeling we're gonna find some garbage in his gut. And once we get that cleared up, I think we'll see huge improvements in his speech and sleep habits.

If we're real lucky, maybe he'll stop always trying to escape. One can dream.

Someday I'll get my ish together...today is not that day

For. The. Love.

I mean, really. Another 5 (oops. When I started perhaps. Now it's like 8) months have gone by. And I haven't posted once. I haven't even contemplated posting. I am the literal worst.

Seems like life keeps throwing punches that leave us scrambling to catch up. In the great "what next in craptacular" saga that is our house... we found mold. Again. Or still. Who even knows. Hubbs and I had a *bit* of a tiff over the leak in the master bath and whether or not it was bad. I maaaaaybe yelled, a lot, that my swelling tongue and lips don't lie and there is still mold and he maaaaybe got fed up with said yelling. And perhaps grabbed a hammer and tore into the tile on the shower and tub out of spite.  And, it's entirely possible that we both went "oh shit" as we surveyed damage we had no idea we would find at a time where we had zero things lined up to fix it. Sooooo......yay. And onto searching for new everything, including subfloor, and someone to install it all.

It occurred to me that since we had everything all ripped open that perhaps we should treat the beams for mold because I never want to have to deal with this nonsense again. So I googled all the things to kill mold. Apparently, KILZ  doesn't cut it. There was one treatment and paint that it said worked, but the paint alone was over $300. Then I stumbled onto Green Home solutions. They're a green company that performs mold air quality tests (for $200 less than the other crap company we used and a hell of a lot more thorough) and they fog your house with a chemical free enzyme that eats and destroys mold. They spray down your furniture, curtains, clothes, EV-ER-Y-THING. And it doesn't need to be taken to a cleaners afterward because it's all natural. And so we had it done. And NOW we are officially mold free.

Cut to a month later. We've been out of our master bedroom and bathroom since February. Finally found a contractor. And BOOM. our upstairs HVAC system crapped out. Turns out, we had different sized air intake and compressor. Meaning it never should have worked (it really never did, hello ridiculous electric bills and a never cool enough upstairs)  and it should have died a looooong time ago. Awesome. So we purchased a brand new system. Bleeding money.

Father's day weekend. Where somehow everything went wrong. Hubbs got poison ivy. We still don't know from where. I kept him far from the kids. But one night boyfriend developed a fever. And then. This.

I mistook it for poison ivy at first. But NOPE. Both the kids managed to get hand foot and mouth. Thankfully, they were mild cases. So I sequestered us to one room. And at some point, I managed to jack up the good side of my back. Had nerve pain and leg weakness. Went for an MRI. And yup. Some of the "jelly" squished out of my bulging disc on the right side and the fragment was sitting on my nerve. Soooooo.....bed rest mostly. No lifting, no twisting, no bending.  Awesome. 

" The room."

Girlfriend decided her new favorite was to dress up boyfriend and teach him how to dance. Also. Boxes as toys. All. Day. Long.

So Nana flies down to help take care of 2 restless kiddos to try and heal up my back, cause I can't walk or stand for more than 10 or so minutes on what was previously my fully functional side. Thursday, my son decided to climb down the slide in our house (daddy built an amazing play area inside) while holding a giant toy. He fell off sideways, landing in their box fort that had a plastic chair in it. Snapped his femur. And now, we have this.

Full body cast for 6 weeks. Can't get wet or sweat (ummmm.... hi from 100 degree humid South Carolina days). Not too much movement. Changing his diaper is now an Olympic sport. He refuses to poop unless he's standing up. Oh yeah. And I CAN'T LIFT ANYTHING.  So, you know, totally doable. 

In a nutshell, we cray. And life doesn't look like it will resume normalcy anytime soon. 

But our new bathroom is pretty. (Thanks, Nick of All Trades!)

So. If you don't hear from me, here's why. I don't even know if I had a chance to write about our adventures with boyfriend's food intolerances diagnosed in January. We've been gluten, egg, coconut, peanut, green pea, cashew, wheat, chia, and watermelon free since then. YEAH. I KNOW. 

I actually ended up baking some pretty delish focaccia and biscuits and other stuff. I posted on my Facebook page and perhaps one day I'll get around to getting the recipes online here. Today is not that day. This year is not that day. We may need to get an exorcism for our house at this point. 

So. How's your summer?? 

Well, it's been a while....and also Osso Bucco in the Instant Pot

Hi (she says sheepishly...)

I know. I KNOW. I'm the worst. It's been 8 months. Or something. I don't math.

Anyway. I have valid reasons. Scattered along with laziness, sickness, and "this all just sucks right now"- ness.

Here's the short scoop- my health has been taking a nosedive for over a year now. My back, then constant nausea and dizziness, then we added in headaches, threw in some stomach flu (which fixed everything for approximately 2 weeks, then it all returned with a vengeance), and for the grand finale, an allergic reaction that led to my cheeks, lips, and tongue swelling up for mysterious reasons. That was a bit terrifying. Which led to allergy testing via a million skin pricks, which brought out THE WORST allergies I've ever had in my life- itchy eyes, itchy mouth, crazy sneezing, and now a complete inability to wear eye makeup. (For those that know me, I have NEVER LEFT MY HOUSE WITHOUT MASCARA EVER EVER. because I look like a hairless cat. And I've now gone out IN PUBLIC. TO FUNCTIONS. INCLUDING NEW YEAR'S EVE without any on. which makes my vain self weep).

I digress. Obviously, I tried to figure out all the things that could be making my poor body suffer this way. And in asking on our neighborhood facebook page, someone suggested we have our air conditioning ducts cleaned. So I set up the appointment- because Lord knows the previous owner was a hot mess and probably never had it done. And what did we discover?

MOLD. Mold all over and through our ac units, airducts, and vents. FRICKING. MOLD. And funny enough, you know what all those skin prick allergy tests showed? That I'm allergic to indoor mold. I'm in the fun 25% of the population who, when exposed to mold, instead of their bodies attacking the spores and making me healthy, my cells start attacking my other cells. Leading to crazy amounts of inflammation (hello unexplained inflammation found in my gut after a stool test- high levels are 100-200 and mine was 465), dizziness, headaches, lack of remembering things, lack of developing (hi from my almost 3 year old non talker). ALL OF IT.

I'm not gonna even get into many details- that's for another post, when I can address all the things we've done, and are still doing, to work this mold out- because we're still in the throws of making sure it's nowhere else in our house, and detoxing from the YEAR AND A HALF that mold spores blew down on us constantly. It's a long, and crazy expensive process.  So yeah. looking forward to writing that post.

ANYWAYS.

I finally listened to my gut, and got little man blood tested for food allergies. He only poops once or twice a week, he's become really picky about food and fights eating, he has that red ring around his little butt hole, and he has patches of bumpy skin- not a rash or red, just raised. And we discovered that he is off the charts for gluten, wheat, bran, and really high for coconut, peanuts, eggs, chia seeds. You know. All the stuff he eats and bathes with.  Perfect.

So, in the midst of evacuating our house a million times (mold, hurricanes, Thanksgiving....) we got an Instant Pot. Which has been A-MAAAAYYYYYY-ZING. And now, I get to figure out how to make all the things that boyfriend can eat.

So here is my first (intentional) gluten free meal- Osso Bucco. I, as usual, like to borrow recipes from my (in my head) friends at The Chew and The Food Network. (Yes I daydream about being besties with all of them, and being on The Chew and cooking with Michael Symon would complete my whole life- #squadgoals).

Michael Symon's Osso Bucco. It looked so amazing, but I was super feeling a more tomato based meal. So I stole some of his elements and added them with Mario Batali's Osso Buco. (Side note: I have no idea why they are spelled differently. It's one of the things that drives me slightly batty about The Chew website. However, their recipes are always without a doubt the most delish way to cook food ever ever, so I forgive them).

So between that, and using my knowledge of how the IP works, I came up with this:

- a big hunk of pork butt (who even has the money for that much veal after Christmas? And pork is fattier- my fave). I used 4 pounds and cut in half to brown better
- 1/4- 1/2 cup white wine
- 1 jar (18 oz) whole peeled tomatoes
- 1 cup bone broth
- squirt of anchovy paste- literally a drop or two of it
- 1 tbsp capers
- 1 sweet onion (it's what I had), chopped up
- handful baby carrots, cut in half
- a few cloves of garlic
- dried thyme, to taste (didn't have any fresh on hand)
- 2 tbsps butter (always always always Kerrygold- it'll change your life)
- extra virgin olive oil
- zest of one lemon
- 1 parmesan rind (cause I had it and it sounded good)

Before I tell you the steps I will say it was a hair more liquidy than I would've liked, so I might not add quite as much liquid as that. And as much as I super love chunky tomatoes in things like this, I think using crushed tomatoes might have served me better here, to spread out the tomato flavor throughout. I mean, it was DELISH. But everything can be improved on.

So I throw in some olive oil and brown up the salt and peppered pork. Then remove. Throw in a tad more oil and the butter and add my onions, carrots, a little more salt and pepper, and the thyme.  Let it go for a few minutes then add in the garlic (here's my fun, garlic trick, so it's always easily and readily available- it's the 2nd half of the post. and also a trick I learned on The Chew. Shocking), and the anchovy paste (usually sold near the tomato paste. and I don't like fish at all, but it does add a nice depth of flavor. a little bit goes a long way.) A little tomato paste at this point would also work really well if you felt so inclined. Let that cook for a minute, then throw in your white wine and deglaze- make sure to scrape all the good bits up off the bottom of the pan. There lies all your flavor. Add the bone broth and the tomatoes (Jovial is my favorite brand- tomatoes from Italy, organic, AND they don't add in any flavors. I LOATHE when every single stupid brand adds basil. WHY!?!? WHY DO THEY DO THIS!?!?). Zest your lemon right in there, then throw the pork, and all the juices that accumulated in whatever holding vessel it was in, and add the parmesan rind.

We decided to let this slow cook for about 6 hours while we were out. We came home and discovered that it was delicious, but not as fork tender as we would like. (that was at about hour 5). So we pressure cooked it for about 25 minutes. That did the trick.

Then I hit saute to get the sauce to thicken up a bit.

And made my polenta while waiting. I still make it on the stovetop. I have reservations about making it in the Instant Pot, because I like to control the thickness- I love a creamy polenta. Also, I only have one instant pot. So here's my no fail base for polenta/ grits. It's Robert Irvine's recipe, and it's always a winner-

1 cup bone broth (or stock)
 1/2 to 1 cup milk (or heavy cream)
good hunk of butter (tbsp or 2)
about 1/2 cup of fine ground corn meal (DON'T add all at once- I don't think I ever actually need that much).

I throw in the broth, milk and butter and bring to a gentle boil. Then I slowly slowly slowly whisk in corn meal little by little. It thickens up a lot as it cooks so when I say slowly, I mean about 1 or 2 tbsps at a time, whisk well for a minute or 2, then add a little more.  Once you get it to the consistency you want, add in your salt and pepper, and any cheese you would like to use. For this, we used pecorino romano (you can get a giant hunk of the Locatelli one at Costco. SO GOOD.)

And then. Plate.

Unbelievably good.

So I hope that was helpful. I'm an Italian cook for sure- everything is "quanto basto" (to taste).  So maybe writing recipes isn't really my forte. Ha!

Loves!

ALL THE FEELS

So this has been a long time coming. I have been SUCH a slacker about this blog. There have been a few times were I made something that was deliciously fantastic, and started to blog about it, and didn't get around to finishing. I just have not had it in me.

The scoop. Last April, while we were house hunting, I was ergo wearing my 1 year old. For at least 10 hours a day. While standing and looking at homes. On the plane ride home I noticed that my back was killing me and would not settle down. Our chiro tried working on it, but nothing was really helping. He said he thought it could be a disc issue....but then we moved to Charleston, and I started to see another chiro.

After about a month, my new chiro, Dr. Kukes of Elite Health solutions, said the same thing and I went for an MRI in early September. And what he said was "I have never seen an MRI this bad with the amount of flexibility and movement you have." Basically, it's because I have 2 toddlers and zero choices about being able to move around and function. I wasn't letting it effect my life. I was just pushing through the pain and doing what I needed to do.

With 3 bulging discs, but still able to walk, stand, and do life, I was doing all the natural things I could think of to fix the problem.  I drank warm lemon, cayenne pepper, black pepper, & turmeric water every morning. I took 4 fish oils (omega 3's), 3 hemp oils, 2 BCQ supplements, and a raw vitamin d supplement to help stop inflammation. I did all the stretches I'm supposed to, I foam rolled, I stayed as active with walking as I could. I did acupuncture. I drank all the anti-inflammation smoothies. I did not, however, stop picking up my son. I also occasionally still stuck him in the ergo because desperate times and all. I did not stop DOING ALL THE THINGS, or even slow down doing them, because of pain.

By Christmas time, it was definitely not feeling great, but I thought since we were going up to Jersey for 2 weeks and the hubbs was off from work that I'd get a nice relaxing break- no cooking, no cleaning, help with running after the small one. I also got a super intense deep tissue massage right before we left. Christmas break was supposed to be my saving grace.

Instead- the massage made me a little achey. The tightness in my hip was apparently keeping everything in check. And the cold weather seeped into my bones, and I suddenly started to notice where they said my disc had completely degenerated in the form of a bone-deep, arthritic ache that nothing could touch.

The drive home was unpleasant. And during those 12 hours, hubbs and I discussed our plan forward for life. By the end of the Jersey trip, in order to stand up straight and walk, I had to lay down and stretch for at least 10 minutes. Even after I would just go to the bathroom- any kind of sitting meant I had to start all over again with the stretching to get me totally straight again. But once I got walking, I was fine. But we both decided that it wasn't really feasible to continue life with 2 active kiddos that way. And we agreed that perhaps now was the time to call in the hail mary and get the cortisone shot. We thought, just one and done, and I can continue to get my back into shape with exercise and supplements, but still be able to do all the things I need to do.

We make plans and God laughs.

I made an appt with the Spine Institute right down the road from my house. They saw me for about 15 minutes, looked at my MRI from September, told me I should get the shot, sent me downstairs for it, and in I went. I asked not to be sedated (which was just what they typically did). They gave me an IV in my arm "just in case" and sent me into a waiting area. It was all very assembly line like. The doctors administering the shot were joking about vacay time and stuck me in the back with a giant needle and sent me on my way. They said it could take up to 14 days to feel the effects so they would see me back in 2 weeks.

Enter my own personal hell.

It did not feel any different when I left. Which I thought was a little weird. But whatevs. That night was pretty bad, but I took some ibuprofen and was able to get a little sleep. The next day the shit hit the fan in a big way.

I was writhing on the floor in pain, after attempting to come down the stairs and make breakfast for my kiddos. Pretty sure I threw a bag of crackers at them, grabbed my phone and sobbed to the nurse. The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before. She said it was normal and she would have a prescription waiting for my hubbs to go pick up and fill.

It was, of course, for a pill that not only was NOT an anti-inflammatory, but also was not a great one for a nursing mamma- something I told them multiple times that I am. Awwwwwweeeeeeesome.

So I scoured our medicine cabinets and found a bottle of oxycodon from my c-section with baby boy. They were old, but it was almost full and I knew it was safe for nursing. So those kept me alive that week. I couldn't move. I could barely crawl out of bed to go to the bathroom, nursing positions were agony, sitting, standing, laying down- all of it were just the most pain I have ever been in. I would rather have a c-section EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK then go through that pain again. I called the nurse every day to tell her how bad it was and that I didn't think it was normal (and neither did any one else) but she said it was fine, and that if I was still nursing then I could just take ibuprofen. Super super helpful.

I went to my chiro in the hopes that he could do something, anything to help relieve the pain that the oxy was only taking the edge off of. I was literally bent over in half trying to walk into his office. He told me that my back was in such a severe spasm it was no wonder I was like that. He used a heating pad with moisture to try and relax the spasming. He had to do that 3 different times that week, and I finally bought one so I could do it at home. We also started using a TENS machine in the hopes that it would help tame the inflammation and spasming. I also bought one of those.

My acupuncturist tried to help as well, and it did for a bit, but this pain was ridiculous and would not be killed. Hubbs took the rest of the week to work from home so he could take care of the kids, and my mom flew down over the weekend, because it was pretty clear that I was unable to be at home alone.

The 2 week mark was approaching, and I went ahead and cut off any other appointments with the Spine Institute. It was pretty clear they had no interest in individual patients, and they didn't really know what they were doing, since they essentially paralyzed me for 2 weeks. The pain started to back off a bit, but there was no walking happening. There was barely standing. Sitting didn't feel that great either.

 I scheduled an appt with back specialist Dr. Bright McConnell, but he's crazy busy (because he's amazing) so it took 2 weeks to get in to see him (and it was only that soon because of a cancellation in his schedule). In the meantime, I tried to do the TENS machine, and ice and use the moist heat whenever I could, and I tried desperately to get around, even though it was completely hunched over. I used the stroller to lean on as much as possible. And then I realized. I needed a cane.

That's right. Big old, blingy cane. And yes, I managed to go out for a girl's night because it had been almost 2 months of me laid up in my house and I wanted to get all pretty again. I, of course, did that sitting down (which drying your hair in bed is strangely relaxing). But I did it. I was not super prepared for the staring (or maybe I just thought people were staring) but whatevs. It is what it is. So I rolled with it.

And also. Yes. That is the absolute most I could stand straight up. And I was pushing it so I could get a decent picture. I was full queen of the tilt.

And I was still under the impression that this was an easy fix.  I've known plenty of people who have bulging discs and they bounce back pretty quickly.

And then, the day before my first appointment with Dr. McConnell, I was sitting on the couch, and suddenly, everything from my hip down went all pins and needles. It felt like a waterfall inside my leg. I got up to go to the bathroom, and on the way back, I remembered what my mom had said about the heel and the toe test. If you can still walk on just your heels, and just your toes, then it's fine. So I tried it. And when I tried to walk on my toes, my whole foot rolled . Tried again. Same story. So I cried, and called my mom, who told me to call my chiro, who had me come in.

Turns out, I have nerve damage. I didn't have nearly as much feeling in my left foot and calf as I did on the right (couldn't really tell the difference between a sharp pokey thing and a dull one). This raised the stakes considerably. Because if I didn't get this crap worked out, and soon, I would probably have permanent nerve damage.

So I went to the doc and had some scary conversations and then was scheduled for another MRI. Apparently, everyone and their mother must be breaking themselves in Charleston, because between all of the Imaging places, the soonest they could get me in was 1 week. And then another almost full week to go back to the doc to talk about it. And yup. Between September and February, I had absolutely done more damage. My S1 was now invited to the party, not just L4 and L5. Thank you hip, for crapping out on me, too.

So we scheduled me to see Dr. Goltra, who is basically brilliant, and not only does he do cortisone shots, but he also is the guy that reads the MRI's to tell you what's going on. It took FOREVER to get in to see him (again- super popular and brilliant), but when the nurse heard I could barely walk, had 2 toddlers to take care of and it had been almost 2 full months of me being non-functional, she stuck me in a cancellation slot.

It, of course, was the week the hubbs got sent to Seattle for work. So my parents drove down to take care of me. Seriously...who can even live without them??? Filling my freezer with SO MUCH FOOD and taking care of the kids. Dropping their lives to help me out. They are just the best.

So in I go. And he tells me that I have a mild spinal stenosis. Which means my spinal column is too narrow, and over the years it gets more and more narrow. Which means, if I have bulging discs, it will affect my nerve a lot more quickly because it doesn't have very far to go. AWESOME. He also tells me that it is fully pushing on my nerve (cue foot falling asleep all the time, 2 toes that are constantly pins and needles, and peg leg if I try to walk for more than 10 minutes at a time). I stand up and turn around and he says that he can physically see that my nerve is swollen- and if he can see that through my clothes and skin it means I've REALLY managed to piss it off. It's no wonder I'm in this much pain, why on earth did I go to the Spine Institute, and he knows he'll be able to help. And also, NOT to go get surgery. He said "If anyone tells you you need surgery, you come talk to me."

And then he gives me 2 shots. One is the typical cortisone shot. The other he's putting basically directly on my nerve to tame it out, otherwise I'd never be able to do any sort of rehab on my back.

It works IMMEDIATELY. I can stand up straight. I walk to the car. Dad drives me home. I try and walk up the stairs. My leg is now complete jelly (I was warned this may happen) and Dad is behind me, trying to make sure I don't fall while I'm cracking up because no matter what I do, my leg refuses to listen to me. Novocaine of the leg for sure.

I make an appointment for 3 weeks later. I am told that I am still not to push it. No real walking, not too much standing. Basically what I've been doing for the past 2 months, to allow the shot to heal me. I *try* to listen, but let's face it, I don't. I mean, I kinda do, but I pushed it a bit. And I felt it.

So 3 weeks later, I get the 2 shots again. And I'm given the all clear to start physical therapy. Where I'm currently 2 weeks in. Doing traction and stretches. Not much else. Walking, with a stroller or some sort of support, until my foot starts to go numb (which is currently about 6 minutes). If the numbness is still occurring that means the nerve is still aggravated, which should be worked out by the traction after a while. And THEN I can FINALLY do strength training and yoga.

HOLY LORD it's been a loooooong process. The original shot from hell was mid January. It's now April, and I still can't do things like bring my kids anywhere by myself without doing some serious damage to my back. And yes. I've tried. BECAUSE I NEVER LEARN THINGS.


In the midst of all of this, my amazing friends sat me down (well, I was already sitting, wrapped up in my blanket because apparently I was now cold all the time as well), and they said "we know it's hard to accept help. But we're sistering you. And you have no choice. Just take it." Which is basically the best thing that anyone could ever say. Cause they're right. If they asked what they could have done for me, I would have said "Nothing. We're fine. But thank you." And then hubbs, who was doing all the things all the time, would've cheerfully choked me. But they didn't ask. They told. And they brought us meals. And they played with our kids. And they brought me chocolate and magazines. And they hung out in our driveway so that I wouldn't have to walk anywhere, just sit in my chair wrapped up in a blanket.

And I read a whole lot. And I realized a whole lot. I realized how very blessed we were to move into a community a few short months prior, and to have made such amazing friends, who were there when I was down for the count. Most of whom lived in my cul-de-sac. God put us exactly where we needed to be. I also realized that PERHAPS the reason we were in this mess is because I super super suck at accepting help, never mind trying to ask for it. Little Miss I-Can-Do-It-By-Myself learned some serious lessons in humility. And also, the beauty of leaning on your village.

There was a night when hubbs got some weird 24 hour pukey bug, and there was a crock pot of food sitting on our high countertop. I almost tried to reach up to put it in the fridge but realized that if I ever wanted to get better, I had to start acknowledging that I could no longer lift ALL THE THINGS. I texted my neighbor Kirsten for assistance. I admit, it was hard to ask for help. But she, and later, hubbs, both agreed that if I had tried to lift that crock pot, there may have been a throw down. And after she left, I realized I was a little proud of myself for finally reaching out. And I've tried to be good about it since then. Tried being the key word.

I'm just starting to get back into the kitchen. I'm not making any fancy pants things. I don't always make bread- sometimes I allow him to buy the organic fresh baked stuff from Whole Foods. Hubbs always has to help. And most of the time, I do as much as I can sitting down. We hired a cleaning crew to come every other week. I actually hired Kirsten's niece to watch the kiddos when I go to physical therapy. I mean, WHO EVEN AM I!?!?!

Most days, I'm ok with all of this. Some days, I feel like I'm failing at life since my whole job in life is to take care of the kids and the house. But I'm trying to give myself some grace. This is just a season, and keeping all the people alive is my job-  the clean house and yummy food is a nice benefit for all. (Please see "Cleaning up is not my destiny" by my brilliant friend, Michelle).

And maybe it's all the reading of all the books I've done (hello Jen Hatmaker, Shauna Niequist, Glennon Melton, and THE BIBLE)- but I'm noticing a softening of my heart. There's way less anger and rage. Way more compassion and grace. Which is interesting for this blog, as it's based on raging about all the ways I hate Monsanto and how our government is poisoning us. Which I still believe. I'm just not into yelling about it as much anymore. I'm trying more of a gentle nudge approach. So there's that. At some point there'll be a whole post on that. I've got other things on my mind currently...

So, yeah. You haven't heard from me in a while. And this is why. I'm still healing. I actually tried to write this post a month ago. I got a ways through it, and then my computer decided not to save it. And I was all done with that nonsense.

And also, this is a better place to leave it.

Taking this stuff one day at a time. Trying to find the humor. Hoping I haven't broken myself permanently. I'm not gonna win any awards by paralyzing myself trying to do it all alone.

I have really smart friends (near and far) who have gently beaten that into my skull. And I'm a slow learner, but I'm getting there.

Loves!

The Holding- a Toddler Poop Story Part 2

Well. Those were the longest 2 years of my life.  In case you didn't read part 1. In short, girlfriend started holding her poop after our trip to Disneyland (while I was about 20 weeks preggo with boyfriend) and I became a poop doula. Since we do everything as naturally as humanly possible, that meant there was no dosing her up with miralax. It meant using prune juice, flaxseed, and greens to make the poop soft, and if she held it for more than 3 days, getting in a hot soapy bath with epsom salts and coaxing her to push the largest poops in history out. We also recently found at Whole Foods a brand called Buddy Bear that has a "laxative" (it's just an amped up pruned juice, it doesn't actually force them to go) and one called "Digest" that we started using. Sometimes it meant getting in there and breaking it up a bit. And sometimes it meant enema. Any way you slice it, these were not good times for either of us.

It seemed that this past April we were finally finally over it. But we had a few relapses. When family came to visit, or we were out all day long, or the wind blew a certain way... And she absolutely refused to push them into a potty.  Le sigh.

So I found a book.

Yup. This book. It actually used the idea of someone missing a family (we used Nemo since we were all about that movie). Percy the Poop wants to see his family that lives in the toilet bowl. We were obsessed with this book....but still no poop in the potty. UGH.

Enter Halloween. We trick or treated a little bit, and she did not ask to eat any of her chocolate. She just wanted a dum dum lollipop (because of course she wanted red dye and sugar nonsense. of course she did). She loved it. The next day, in Whole Foods, they had Halloween candy on sale. A huge bag of organic lollipops for 99 cents. So I bought it, since my ice cream, chocolate, buy anything she wanted motivation wasn't working at all. We got home. I said "Look I got you some lollipops, but you can only have one if you poop on the potty." She grabbed it, ran to the bathroom, and took a dump. ARE. YOU. FREAKING. KIDDING. ME.

So. yeah. We found the golden ticket. And she has gone on the potty every day since then. Just like that. Potty trained.

The most insane roller coaster of emotion finally coming to a close. A very happy 4 year old who loves to poop on the potty now (with or without a lollipop), and a mom who finally feels less judged about her older toddler in diapers, and a freedom from obsessively counting poops and praying there wouldn't be any scrubbing out the bath tub moments each week. Suddenly, we're over it.

It was a long journey FOR SURE. But honestly, I would rather take this journey than have filled her full of a laxative so that she couldn't trust her body to do what it needed to do. And who knows at the young age what that could do to a developing gut. Lord knows I have enough stomach issues (I was also a holder as a kid) and I'm just hoping this will result in a healthy gut and a healthy attitude about poop.

And also. She loves it when I draw Percy. She asked me to draw his brother. Then she drew his sister. I just super heart her.

Loves!

Nights in Morocco...or maybe just food from there...

Listen, I'd love to spend some nights in Morocco. But for now, we'll have to settle for the one in Epcot Center. Not so sure the 19 month old would fully appreciate all the nuances of different cultures, so we'll give it a few years before we start traveling internationally.

I digress.


Chicken thighs.

Honestly, I just super don't enjoy cooking chicken. Mainly because almost every time I do, the response I get from the hubbs (and myself if I'm honest) is "meh".  I mean, it's tasty. But it's not like beef or bacon tasty. The poor chicken. Not enough fat. Not enough flavor. Everybody's diet food.

So I've been experimenting. And I happened upon a recipe for Moroccan chicken thighs and lentils. Score! I have a crap ton of lentils that I haven't ever used. And it calls for dried apricots. Score again! We have a bag of dried apricots.

Wait. Just opened the bag. Ummm....did you know that dried fruit can ferment? Well. It can. And it did. Good thing I have some yellow grapes on hand. Close enough.

So. Here's the recipe I used as a base. I changed a few things...because of course I did. So. For the rub for the meat, I didn't use garlic powder. I don't have any. As a rule, I super hate garlic powder. I'd rather go ahead and put the real stuff right in there. And with my roasted garlic trick,  it's easy peasy to use fresh garlic always.  I also only used a portion of the cumin they say to. because I really don't care for cumin. I get that it's the base of so much of the food that I love....but I would rather taste the other stuff and cumin is SO STRONG. I also used smoked paprika. That stuff is amazing. And I was heavy handed with it. I threw in a little crushed red pepper as well for a kick.

I added whole peeled tomatoes (Jovial brand is my favorite- glass jars for the win!) I did not add ketchup. I just added a splash of red wine vinegar and some brown sugar. I probably should have added some tomato paste as well, but oh well. maybe next time. I was gonna add almonds too, but my brain is not firing on all cylinders. Whatevs, it's delish. 

And finally, I only had green lentils. So that was it.

I rubbed the chicken, browned it, removed it, sauteed the onions, then added the lentils and gave them some nice color and flavor. Then I added the garlic, and then I added the liquid stuff. Then threw the chicken back in, brought it all to a boil, and threw it in the oven for about an hour and 15 minutes at 350. BOOM.

 The browned chicken in a bowl, while the onions caramelize in the browned chicken goodness bits.

Pre-oven.

The smell in my house. Can't even explain.

And now. Onto the flatbread. Yes the above recipe is gluten and dairy free....so if you need that then you're all set.  But me??  I prefer the Moroccan way. Which is...use flatbread as utensil. YEEEESSSSSS.

Here's the flatbread recipe.  Other country's measuring units are dumb. The hardest part about this was figuring out how much of everything to add. And, since I make bread a lot in different places, I know you can't just add ALL the flour they say to. You have to add slowly as needed.

So. I started with 2 1/2 cups of flour, a little more than half a tablespoon of salt and yeast, 2 tablespoons of butter, and 1 1/3 cups of warm water. Then I added flour as needed until it developed a ball in the kitchenaid mixer. It ended up about 3 1/2 cups I think.

Follow the directions to let the dough rise. Then cut it into 12 and roll them out. Get a cast iron pan really really hot, add olive oil and go ahead and cook em up. It's ridiculous how good these are. I ate the first one with nothing on it. Just straight up ate it.

And the two together???

This meal is magical. No joke.

Perfect warm and cozy food.

So this whole blogging thing...

Apparently, I'm not very good at it. It was SO. MUCH. EASIER. with just one kiddo. That second one. MAN 2 kids is a time suck vortex. I have zero ideas how people with more than 2 even handle life. Kuddos. For reals.

Anyhow, this is basically a post just to say I'm still alive, sometimes just hanging on by a thread, but here. I'm still navigating our crunchy lifestyle in the south. I'm meeting new people and getting some really good info which I'm stoked about....cause Whole Foods for everything is getting a little boring. I need a little variety in my life.

I'm also posting a lot less on FB. Not intentionally.....well kinda intentionally. I'm trying to just maybe not be on social media as often. Although the beginning of September was girlfriend's birthday party, my birthday, parents visiting, and all sorts of fun shenanigans so OVERPOSTER for sure. But I'm trying to hold back a bit now. And outside of the food pics I've put up, it's been some fairly lame repeats for the past month. Still yummy, just not exciting picture worthy foods. I would love to get back to doing new things almost nightly and blogging about all my fun discoveries...but we live on this AMAZEBALLS cul-de-sac and right around 5pm, all the kiddos are home from various schools and the mammas are home and it is time to get our play on. That used to be primetime dinner prep, but you know? Chilling out is way more important. So I braise some stuff during boyfriend's nap (and let's be honest....braises don't photograph well), and that way I can hang. I hover right in between introvert and extrovert and after a full day with just the kidlets, I SUPER DESPERATELY NEED TO TALK TO LOGICAL BEINGS. FOR. THE. LOVE. Otherwise, I end up talking to the hubbs like he's a child, and that works out for no one.

So there's my litany of excuses of why I suck at blogging right now. And possibly for the foreseeable future. Although....light at the end of the tunnel- perhaps I can start sneaking away once boyfriend falls asleep and type a little. He loves to snuggle, but lately big sister has been his target, and I'm all in on that train. We shall see.

In the meantime, I've found a few life hacks that have been helping budget wise and "I just can't find it out here" wise. For starters, we get INCREDIBLE bacon. This bacon is life affirming. It's black forest bacon from whole foods. There's also some seriously delish hickory smoked bacon from Ted's Butcherblock. Both are thick cut goodness, and render out some serious fat. We pour it into mason jars and BAM. Lard. Because I cannot find organic lard. And I need it to make tortillas and carnitas and fry potatoes in and just in general I need lard in my life. Trying to use all of the animal and all. Totally worth it.

Also trying to heal from 3 bulging discs. Apparently, my son hit the tipping point of how much weight I could carry on my front for hours on end while standing around and I went and ruined my lower back and hips. Awesometastic. So I've been trying to naturally get rid of inflammation using food, stretching, and foam rolling instead of cortisone shots. I'm also getting regular massages from a massage therapist and gonna give acupuncture a go. Frankincense oil has been so fabulous to rub right where the pain is- way better than any OTC ibuprofens or muscle rubs. I've been taking BCQ supplements (Bromelain, Curcumin, and Quercetin). I'm adding a lot more turmeric into my diet as well (curcumin) but since bromelain is from pineapples and I'm allergic to them, I have to stick to these supplements. Also omega 3 fish oils and vitamin d for absorption. I'm also drinking bone broth. Not gonna lie- I do not love it. It's not horrible but I'd rather make food with it than just straight drink it. If all of this works to heal my back I'll write a more detailed post about it, since I have had a hard time finding info on it, but I know I don't want to just take a shot of something to make me feel better but that ultimately will weaken the ligaments and not promote the healing of these discs. Meanwhile, I'm trying to convince my son that strollers are awesome....he's currently not buying it.

I'm also reading a poop book. BECAUSE OF COURSE I AM. I thought we were all done with the holding back in April. It seemed we were completely on board to just poop when you have to poop. We even started holding back a bit with the prune juice. And then. Potty training. So girlfriend has known how to pee in the potty for a year and a half. She never goes over night, rarely has accidents in underwear, and loves to announce to people that she's a big girl and always pees and poos in the potty (which is just not accurate- she's pooped once in the potty). So there are days she asks to wear underwear. And on those days, she REFUSES to poop. Doesn't talk about it or anything. Just holds it in. And then, we're right back to me poop doula-ing it out of her after 2 or 3 days, sitting in the bathtub and cheerleading it on. UGH. No one enjoys this. And it's been 2 years now, so I'm just OFFICIALLY OVER IT.

So I bought the book "It's No Accident- Breakthrough solutions to your child's wetting, constipation, uti's, and other potty problems" by Steve Hodges.  Not gonna lie. Don't love his love for miralax. But he does have a lot of good advice in this book, and insight. And I am totally gonna do an enema on girlfriend because I have a feeling if we x-rayed her we'd find a pretty good sized poop mass. I'm hoping we can clear her out, and then get a fresh start with the pooping and the potty training- leaving out the miralax and keeping things soft with more fiber and more prune juice. It's just all a work in progress right now.

So yeah. That's where I'm at. everything comes down to poo.

loves!!