And Now For Something Completely Different

It all started with Mr. Money Mustache. 

Last year around the time that Little H joined us, The Mister stumbled upon a website and immediately started obsessing over this very frugal living family. There was an unsettling spring in The Mister's step and gleam in his eye. I have tried, and failed, at many a budget, and the Mister and I come from very, very different families and backgrounds regarding money which means that he and I were constantly at odds because of our mismatched philosophies and upbringings and compensatory habits regarding emotions and pretty sparkly things. In fact, early in our marriage, when he even broached the subject innocuously by saying, "Hey let's talk about money stuff," I would immediately burst into tears.

He encouraged me to read some blog posts. So I read. And read. And read. And read until I was pretty sure my eyes were going to fall out of my head and then all of a sudden the realization of what I wanted our life together to be like (ADVENTURE! FUN! TRAVELING! FOOD! COMMUNITY!) was not achievable on our (my) current plan. And talking! Oh so much talking. My man is a bit of a strong silent type and I think this is the most constant talking over several weeks we have ever done, and most of the conversations started when he walked in the door with, "So I was reading on Mr. Money Mustache..."

I have spent years frustrated by my own duality - wanting to live simply and way beneath our means but having absolutely no skills nor really even a working understanding of what that meant. The Mister would say things to me like, “Well, just don’t spend money.” That just absolutely did not compute, and quite frankly still doesn't. People spend money every day, right? Moms toss around memes that go something like “Heading to Target! See you in $150! LOLZ!” I mean, having Amazon Prime means it’s Christmas EVERY TWO DAYS for goodness’ sake. And THINK OF THE CHILDREN. They need clothesdiaperswipesspecialHonestCo.windowcleanersandoxypodsandsandboxesandwatertablesandlighttablesandsocksandshoesandhairbowsandballetslippersandballettightsandleotardsandbooksandDVDsand...FOOD! Oh don’t even get me started on food. We have been on a lifetime food journey together and we started pretty much where everyone starts...things that are fast and convenient, restaurants that we think are awesome and delicious, eating out whenever we want instead of like when we were kids and only went out for birthdays…

     

The problem was (is?) that maybe because we live in a town of movers and shakers and people with serious scratch that we (I?) became numb to what constitutes as “normal” consumer habits. Or even what the rest of the world lives like. Americans are rich beyond measure pretty much at baseline and we don't see it. I even read Jen Hatmaker’s “7” a few years ago and even though I was horrified by so many truths about how the rest of the world lives, still would buy the odd bit of fast clothes, occasionally looked at my overfull fridge that I just filled from a ridiculously priced trip to the grocery store and then closed it and ordered pizza, and popped in to Starbucks for a chai latte on the regular.

But somehow, amidst the postpartum hormones and something I like to call “Hello Frontal Lobes!” I got it. I started to see what a regular Starbucks habit would cost me now if I wanted to maintain that habit when we retired. And then how long it would take us to retire if I kept up with that habit. And then how long we would have to put off all the TRAVEL! and ADVENTURE! if we constantly got takeout or even dropped cash on brunch instead of squirreling all that fundage away for amazing brunch in say...Paris.

I saw excess everywhere in my house that I just kept cleaning up over and over and over when my little preschool tornado tore through it. Toys and clothes and trinkety decorations and things I had kept that didn’t necessarily have pleasant memories associated with but felt like I had to because they had somehow melded with my identity. Books that were given to us that we would never read and just...stuff. Everywhere. The worst part of the whole thing is that I was all happy to have nested and gotten rid of -I’m serious- 10 trash bags of stuff and here I was staring at MORE STUFF and quite unsure as to how it all ended up in my house/garage/livingroom/CRAFTROOM/closet/BRAIN.

Y’all. The mental clutter that all of this brought was making my inner world hell. Well, that plus hormones plus then the holidays were looming....

Yuck.

Eventually, we saw a way through, and we are now on a path toward sweet simple living and despite my best efforts, are totally kicking ass some days and totally sucking the next and then getting back on track and then having wild adventures. In fact, the mister STILL says to me, "Hey just don't spend money," but now I hear it as, "Hey think really hard about how and why you want to spend this" or I hear myself telling my daughter, "Do you want to get hot chocolate here or do you want to get hot chocolate in Puerto Rico" (if that sounds harsh it's because she is 4 and would drink ONLY chocolate milk with whip cream on top if I let her. She even conned her babysitter into three chocolate milks while I was at work one day.)

There are a lot of parts to this story that we are still writing every day, so if life and love and adventure and creativity is something you're into, then wheeeee let's go!

Afterword

After the birth of our second, everything changed. All of it. I was most worried that I wouldn't have enough love in my heart for everyone. Baloney. It overwhelms me at times. Everything isn't sunshine and rainbows every second of the day - the transition from one to two was HARD.

IS hard. And then you turn around and realize your relationship with your significant other is also different so you have to figure that out again too, amidst the regression of the things and the mess of a house and ALL THE NOT SLEEPING. At the very least, the not sleeping the second time around is totally expected and therefore not so much rage-filled. Maybe just a little ragey. A cute little rage monster. The thing that I struggle with the most, because I am quite a distracted individual at baseline, is how to be fully present with A while in this crazy storm of life with the little one. Even three months into this things have settled down a little, but she tells me she wants "just girl dates. No boys. No daddy, no little bro." and I have to figure out how to do that without jumping up to clean/email/text/whatever.

This I think will be the struggle of the millennial generation - finding meaningful connection via technology and knowing when to put that aside, sit on the floor and look your kid square in the face and say, "I'm here. Let's play." Hands Free Mama is a good place to start...although I'm reading it on a tablet and that feels wrong...and I think that it also has wisdom for people without kids. I also am enjoying Notes from a Blue Bike and The Art of Simple by Tsh Oxenreider. Simplifying, being present, and living life in this age of consumerism and more-more-more-all-the-everything are all inextricably linked. I wish I had a BLAM! one-size-fits-all fix for this, some prescriptive thing I could read or checklist or whatever but I don't. It's lots of little checklists and no's and conversations about how this or that makes someone feel and whether this THING makes you happy or your life better or what someone wants their life to be like, what they want their kids to remember.

All the big questions and the small questions at the same time. It's kind of a rollercoaster.

I know as a perfectionist yet fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants person that I can beat myself up about missed opportunities or things I could have done differently...currently I am evaluating my craft room, throwing actual DAILY BAGS OF TRASH from there and wondering why the hell I accumulated so much worthless stuff...things that I would "eventually get around to" that eventually just amounted to jumble in my brain and guilt for not having or making the time for the (SEEMINGLY) important but what turned out to be (ACTUALLY) unimportant...eesh.

So yeah, that's the reason for the blog redesign. As a family we're fumbling our way toward an unhurried, intentional, adventurous life.

Is it weird that I say "here's where I document all this unplugged-ness on a blog." ? Yeah probably.

2nd Time's A Charm

Hey! So, we had another baby! It's taken me awhile to write about this mostly due to sheer sleepiness and no time whatsoever. Seriously. I can't even return my parents' phone calls. However, in the wake of all the fallout regarding opening or revisiting conversations regarding mental health and depression, I'm going to try to put this all down.

In short: I was terrified for 9 months due to the PTSD and postpartum depression I suffered after the birth of our first. Terrified. Therefore, that and the absence of tequila made for a
VERY. LONG. PREGNANCY.

Last October when we decided to have another child, I was all, "YEAH! LET'S DO THIS!" and then two days after seeing the positive pregnancy test, was curled up in the fetal position. I was convinced I was going to die. Actually had to do some MAJOR working through emotionally and spiritually for 9 months about this. It may not make a lot of sense to a lot of people, but it's like...my body chose flight from the very beginning, and even when I was in the hospital I had a hard time getting my body and my brain and my soul convinced that it was go time. For 9 months, my brain told me awful stories over and over again, random events being taken and twisted. Awful stuff. I wanted to get back on my antidepressant but unfortunately that made me feel physically horrible and even more mentally unstable so I dropped that idea pretty quickly. I had to walk, eat fresh and nutritious food, and be real with my mama tribe - trust the community that I had to work to be a part of for 3 years.

Fortunately, I had a completely different social, emotional, and professional framework from which to approach this pregnancy. Love, support, open arms and ears from every which way. There was an outpouring of information and cheering-on from women who had VBAC'd before, and not just women in my generation. In fact, the aunts and friends with college-age children taught me so much about their VBAC experiences. It was beautiful. I still puked nearly every day until discovering the magic of Zantac in the third trimester, and being pregnant, planning a music therapy conference, working part-ish time while chasing a preschooler...it takes a lot out of a person. There are so many things that made it all tolerable - friends stealing my oldest so I could nap or just have time to think my thoughts, or supper sharing (You have corn chips and beans? I have chicken and cheese! Let's make nachos!), and not to mention friends with stashes of Zofran. There were gorgeous mother blessings, and in the week between 40- and 41- weeks, there were innumerable "random" kindnesses. Our elderly neighbors brought us cookies, people called or Emailed to check-in, and sweet ladies texted me not "have you had that baby yet?" but "thinking about you and holding you up in love" type texts. I cried at the abundance of support.

My wonderfully VBAC-cheerleading doctor was scheduled to deliver her own baby the same week I was due. This sent me into a bit of a frenzy of doubt and I considered changing doctors. I was talked off that ledge and eventually did need to be transferred to the care of another doctor, but after a lot of talking and crying and journaling and more counsel from wise women, ended up being fine with it. After all, the doctor's job is to generally catch the baby or intervene when necessary and that one person may or may not end up on call when your time comes, so there's really no point in holding on so tightly to the thought of one person making or breaking your experience. I trusted the facility where I would be birthing, trusted my birth team, so I slowly came around to trusting that everything was going to be okay. I had to decide that I would be the one deciding how my experience would go. Mentally I held VBAC-ing at a distance. I wasn't married to the idea, just because I didn't want to be disappointed. I set my expectations bar very, very low for this birth. My goal was to come home healthy, with a healthy baby, without feeling like a prisoner of war. Everything else I could take or leave.

My due date came and went. No baby. Of course. I was not at all expecting anything early to happen. Hopeful? Yes. Dubious? Totally. Since my first was born at 42.5 weeks I just hunkered, stayed away from my phone and Facebook and walked like I had never walked before. I did all the interventions I knew how to. Red Raspberry Leaf tea, Evening Primrose Oil up one side and down the other (you'll know what this means if you're in a crunchy birth community. If not, ask me about it.), sex, everything. My body just was not ready at 40 weeks. Around 40.5 (Monday) I had a nonstress test, and everything looked great but fluid levels were a little iffy, so the doc wanted me to come back on Wednesday to repeat the test. Tuesday I tried castor oil, and while it made me power puke, it did not start off contractions. I went back in on Wednesday morning, where we found out the fluid levels had dropped, and she had me go "straight to L&D." Do not go home, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

Well.

Since I had eaten a paltry breakfast due to the effects of the previous nights castor oil extravaganza, I instead went to get a turkey sandwich, got adjusted by my chiro, and then went to L&D. I might have a little bit of a problem with authority. I got hooked up and answered all the check-in questions while I waited for the Mr. to show up. He had stayed home to finish up packing and deliver our daughter to the friends watching her for the day. When he arrived, the doctor did as well and placed the foley bulb. She maybe got a little flustered and asked if I had gone home because everything was "behind schedule." She and I were clearly not a match made in heaven, but whatever. She checked to make sure that I was at least a little dilated, and I could feel her fingers on the baby's head.

A foley bulb and low dose pitocin induction is a great option for VBAC mamas. The foley manually dilates the cervix but is kind of awkward - there's the bulb inside and then this long tube and then a bag of saline dangling for counter pressure, and YES it is just about as awkward as you can imagine that whole scenario. Upon reaching 4 cm, the bulb falls out and then the rest of labor should be pretty straightforward. So the doc places the foley bulb and I start getting my fainting aura of slowly not being able to hear. My sweet nurse rushed to put a wet cloth on my forehead and get me some ice. Bless her.

I made it to 4 cm and the bulb fell out and there were high fives all around. And then the doc came in to break my water and realized, right hand checking for dilation and left hand wielding a crochet hook looking device like a wizard wand, that the baby had turned. Transverse. She put the hook down and asked to turn off the pitocin and asked for a sono machine. The Mr. texted my doula who came rushing in from a twin birth to see what was going on. Doc says "c section" and I say, "give me time." Actually, I totally freaked out and ugly cried, and THEN requested some time. During this time I had like, three doulas around me trying to figure out every which way to turn the baby. We were on the spinning babies website, doing inversions, and at one point even had ice and peppermint oil on his head to see if he would turn. Nothing. After about an hour and a half the doc came back in and the nugget was still in the same position, and babies don't come out transverse.

So, we settled in to wait our turn in the OR, chatting and telling jokes. When it was time I walked into the OR, had a long talk with the anesthesiologist so he could keep an eye on my blood pressure, and they hooked up my Spotify "Labor and Birth" playlist. I was nervous, so that means I chatted nonsensically with everyone in the room, and an OR tech kept asking me about my awesome songs that were, in his words, "the perfect playlist - and I'll tell you what. I've heard a lot of these playlists. Yours is the best." Mr. S. had the job of announcing the sex of the baby, and was told to stay at my side the whole time. The surgeons got to work on me and my sweet doula kept a cotton ball of lavender by my nose so I wouldn't have to smell the cauterizing. After a bit, and a whole bunch of digging around in my uterus to get the baby to turn head down (it didn't happen - he came out breech), they said, "Ready dad?" and Mr. S stood up and said, a little choked-up, "We had a boy!"

*we have to pause right here for a minute because I am tearing-up just remembering that moment.*

Everyone in the OR cheered and cried, and I ugly-cried. I was seriously floored, surprised beyond everything, and said something special along the lines of, "I was growing a penis this whole time and had no idea!" Early on I suspected it was a boy, and now looking back I had so much that I was hoping for in this birth but was afraid to hope for, so I talked myself out of things so that I wouldn't eventually be disappointed. Not that we would have been disappointed had we had a girl because SISTERS!, and we have a really great girl name, but I loved the idea of trying something new this time, learning new things.

Here's where things in the OR get really awesome. Little man was taken over to the table to be checked out and Mr. S stayed to hold my hand. Then they brought the babe over to me and laid him on my chest while I was stitched up. As a family we gazed at each other and laughed and touched faces and nuzzled. It was the most amazing thing. I never felt alone or scared, just overwhelming joy and love. Mr. S held baby while I was put on a gurney to be wheeled to recovery and when it was all over, the babe was back on my chest. He nursed like a champ in recovery and we got to face time late with sweet A to let her know she had a little brother.

So yeah, totally different things learned the second time around. The recovery was STILL not a picnic, but my mind and body weren't fried as badly, and I wasn't scared of being a mom. In fact, I turned tearfully to Mr. S one day and said, "I think I've been depressed for four years. And now it's gone." Reminds me of a verse in Isaiah:

"Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."
43:15-16

Fits perfectly with what we named him - after a famous wilderness philanthropist.

And hey, here's my Labor and Birth Tunes playlist. He was born while "Out of the Woods" by Nickel Creek was playing, followed by "Magic" by Coldplay.

Perfectionism in Parenting

I've been thinking a lot about perfectionism, how it came to have a huge hold on some areas of my life, and how it messes with my parenting, in good ways and bad. 

If you want to talk family systems, mine's pretty non-traditional. Modern, if you will. But 30 years ago. Whatever. My parents were older when they had me, which means they were the product of a very strong and determined set of parents. I am the only child of my parents but have half-siblings all over the place, the next youngest of which is 11 years older than me. Unless you count my cousin who is really like my brother and he's like 9 years older than me but didn't really grow up in my house.

Yeah.

So basically, I grew up in a house of adults, with everyone having way more grown up expectations of me. I love my family and the people who were around me as I learned about the world. My siblings are incredibly accomplished and inspiring individuals - musicians, graphic artists, neuropsychologists, actress/gardner/divas - and ALL ALSO completely taken with perfectionism in personal and professional pursuits.

Add to that starting classical music training at a pretty early age. I showed an interest in piano at 3, learning via Suzuki method, and played recreationally until high school ended. I played in college, but only because I was enrolled in piano class, and by then my piano romance had waned quite a bit. I also played clarinet since about sixth grade like every good little band dork. I was even pretty good, and therefore thrust (jumped?) into the competitive world of UIL every year. Even though competitive musicianship quickly lost its luster in college, I continued studying music and eventually becoming a music therapist, where I've learned to be flexible in music but it allows me to be creative both musically and in the therapeutic relationship. In that vein, I totally am a perfectionist in several ways, including:

1) I am research and evidence obsessed. Look. I know music therapy can be a weird thing that people don't get - that people can think is fluffy and made up and "pseudoscience." Thanks to my graduate degree and research skills I have learned where to go for reliable information and from where I'm standing, and I tell people this every day at work, it's a great time to be a music therapist. There are neuroscientists doing incredible work that we as music therapists, with our small sample sizes and anecdotal data (due mostly to the individualized nature of music therapy), wouldn't be able to do. There are two different kinds of music therapists - the super woo woo music of the spheres kind, and the hard numbers "show me the research!" kind. I'm somewhere in the middle. I see magic happen every time I go to work, and then I get to the library and work to figure out why I see the physical and emotional reactions that I do, in order to better serve my next client.

2) If I don't know how to play a song perfectly, I probably won't play it. This ties in more with being diligent about meeting my patients where they are than anything. If I'm bumbling through a song, I totally lose my street cred with the patient (especially because I now work with adults) and the session becomes more about me...and blegh. I hate that feeling. But sometimes you walk into a person's room and they say, "Play me the Ave Maria," and you try it and it sucks. And you promise to learn it for next time. The population I work with is particular about their music, which means I have to sing and play a lot to learn and continually update my repertoire.

So in the parenting realm lately I've noticed that A has been completely freaking out over little things. I get it, she's about to be three, she has Opinions and Emotions and all that, but I started looking at what I was doing that could maybe be contributing to her outbursts. During a particularly nasty one, it hit me. I am on her to do everything right all the time. I do it when I teach guitar lessons, when I tried my hand at teaching my niece piano (she now plays violin - go figure), when we're eating dinner, putting on clothes, everything. I sheepishly realized that I had constructed this toothpick fortress of controlling all the things and making my child behave that she was flipping out. Honestly, I would too.

So, I've backed off. Quit being so picky or insisting that she do the right thing every. single. time., shushing the young piano player in me that insists that "PERFECT practice makes perfect." I had to find an outlet though, a time during which I COULD let that perfectionist inside me run free. So, I started playing piano again. And for those 30 minutes whenever I can grab them, it has a place to go that isn't interfering with my relationships or my professional life. It feels OH so good, and helps me let go in the other areas of my life that needed loosening up.

About to get a little cray cray up in here

I got a job! Or rather, a job got me. I wasn't even looking and got a phone call from a hospital wanting a music therapist for their adult cancer patients. I'm thrilled, excited, and so, so nervous! The best part is that the schedule fits in beautifully with the rhythm of our little family and I'll be home most days of the week with my nugget...who referred to herself as "the nugget" the other day, and has started saying things like, "actually..." and "I don't believe you!"

This weekend I hung out in San Antonio with family to get a few things in order. My grandmother is getting up there in age and everyone is scrambling to support each other, so my sister and I went to help out just the two of us. Our visit was a HUGE success - we had time to hang out with abuela, our mom, her dad, our brother, aunt and uncle, and best of all, spent 10 hours in the car together! We haven't been able to bond like that in quite some time. It was awesome. I missed being at home with my little family but not having to chase a husband and toddler meant that I could be fully present to the situation that presented itself and really get to dig in. 

As we were leaving this morning I was reminded of Ghandi's encouragement to "be the change you wish to see in the world," and it dawned on me in my groggy half-awakeness that sometimes that means to just show up. BE there. And then watch some crazy profound magic happen.

Happy weekend!

Too Fast Too Furious

A guaranteed way to get a mom to punch you (or at least strongly consider it) is to say something along the lines of "Enjoy this time - it goes by so quickly." While I've found early childhood to be downright exhausting and exhilarating and I heard that line over and over and over and over, it wasn't any help whatsoever. It didn't make time slow down or go faster or make me NOT wish that the 2am wakings would end. 

For whatever reason, maybe the PPD, maybe leaving my job and feeling weird about it, maybe feeling the need to somehow stay plugged in to music therapy and eventually "get back into it" I did, however, find myself looking for every opportunity to get A to sleep faster or more efficiently so that I could have time to go do whatever I wanted to. That little taste of pseudo-freedom was so intoxicating that while rocking her to sleep I would think, "Now would be a great time to just crash out in the rocking chair with her. Okay well...but there's all this other stuff I need to do, (insert dishes-research-writing-musicking-facebooking(VOMIT)-laundry-cleaning-sweeping-mopping-catchingupwithpeople-phonecalls-sewing-cooking-never-ending)" and I would justify to myself that I am so talented and my brain needs to keep working or I have a master's degree and was I really cut out for this SAHM thing and should she do a mother's day out and on and on and on...

...and then one day she moved from her crib to a mattress on the floor and she didn't want to be rocked any more, and it broke me to pieces. I am in fact tearing up as I type this. Not saying I didn't EVER not fall asleep with her in my arms, I just really honestly thought that it WOULD last. I didn't have any previous experience to know how abruptly it would end.

I recently completed a worksheet from this book that had the statement, "Imagine yourself at the end of your life looking back...what do you regret?" or something like that. Now, we all know the people who are like, "I live life with no regrets!" and for the most part I have to call bullshit. If you're going through life skipping through KNOWING that every decision you make is absolutely the best one for you right then, then you've stopped learning. I have the feeling that the rest of us are consistently saying to ourselves, "oops. That sucked. I'll try better next time." To my surprise I found myself journaling that I would probably wish that I had been kinder to some people, and that I would have reveled in the gloriousness that was the present moment a little bit more. Would have enjoyed the gifts that I was given to the fullest.

Kinda like the song by The Weepies - "Please Speak Well of Me" which I have included for your open-weeping pleasure:

The part that always gets me is -

Looking back now
I only wish I had been kinder
Did I ever know love, did I ever know love?
And could I have been blinder?

Okay so the whole song gets me every time. 

I have no idea what they're actually talking about in this song - maybe a romantic relationship or whatever but I tend to find little bits of songs and know they were meant just for me. I mean, if I could fall in love with my unborn kid and be brought to tears because of a Ke$ha song, anything is possible.

So yeah. The other night I was watching How I Met Your Mother and Alyson Hannigan took me apart with the most beautiful scene in the world. (fast forward to 14:32) I said out loud to the hubs, "Oh my word someone gets it. And just said it out loud. Oh my God." And then I cried. Apparently a whole lot of other mamas did the same thing. I don't still feel like that, but I remember clearly thinking just that several times in the first year. The shock of having something so beautiful and vulnerable completely dependent upon you is downright frightening, and it was moving to be validated like that. Even though it was through a tv show.

The world indeed moves on and the days are long and the years are short, but all I can do right now is snuggle up and snooze with my daughter in the middle of the day. I have no control over the decisions I made in the past, but I can bliss-out in the sweetness of the present, to do better next time. And then give myself grace. And you know what? Today she wouldn't nap, and because she had requested being wrapped up in a blanket a couple days ago I asked, "Do you want me to wrap you up?" She quit screaming right there and said, "YES!" and so I swaddled her up and started bouncing and shushing her like when she was itty bitty. And she passed out. So maybe those little moments don't ever go away. I just want to pay closer attention.

Food for the Kiddos

I just got back from a MOPS meeting where we had a presenter on the importance of nutrition, and it reminded me of an Email that I recently sent to my sister-in-law and cousin about little miss A's pretty amazing eating habits. My kid eats like a rock star. Mr. S. and I made the decision early on that growing an appreciation for food in our daughter is super important to us and we took specific steps accordingly. Anyway, what follows is the Email I sent.

--------------

Hey Loves,

I wanted to tell you how awesome it was to have you notice what a good eater A is. It is something I really wanted to focus on and have her be a diverse eater. I am so proud of her and it made me feel so good to have someone notice. I wanted to send y'all resources and thoughts that have been helpful to us when tackling food and approaches and such.

First up is 'Super Baby Food' by Ruth Yaron. It has tons of great healthy recipes and foundational principles of child nutrition. I get into ruts and this book is my go-to for new ideas and reminders of why we are doing this. It's a huge book, and so useful. Don't read the whole thing and get all overwhelmed - I have found it much more manageable to get in there and read just the developmental level appropriate for whatever stage A is in. There are SBF kits you can get including ice cube trays to make it all easier - just look them up on Amazon. I used to think the mini prep baby food maker things were dumb but if I could have something that would steam AND purée my food with the push of a button? Maybe I will get one for kid #2. The author of the next book talks about using these things and as far as I am concerned, whatever makes it easier is totally worth it. I stay home and I have the time, but something more convenient would be worth it.

Next is 'French Kids Eat Everything' by Karen le Billon. I am not a French-culture worshipper or anything and was hesitant to read this because I hate parenting books that make you feel bad about what you're doing wrong. I ended up really liking this book because it read more like an anthropology book. It did a lot of comparing of the subtleties of Western and European food culture and Mr. S and I had a lot of conversations about what kind of food culture we wanted to create within our family. It raised a bunch of questions of our own personal eating habits and where those come from, and there were some things we wanted to tweak - especially me because I come from a cultural heritage of, "hungry? Eat! Sad? Eat! Bored? Eat!" It has good recipes at the end, which the whole family has enjoyed. This is the book where we got our no snacking rule - that's a lot of why A eats the way she does - home girl is hungry :)

Another good resource is Weelicious.com but it's more of a supplement to the above books.

More things we think about are local availability and seasonality, where our food is coming from (what we wanted to buy organic or not - EWG.com has a clean and dirty list that we try and shop by. There is also emerging research on how pesticides and GMO foods effect children that I can track down and send if you want) and also what A sees us eat. Food in season just straight up tastes better. We hate eating tomatoes in December because they come from far away and are mealy and gross - I wouldn't expect A to be passionate about food that doesn't taste good. Some books and videos that have guided our food philosophy include Food, Inc. (there is a whole chapter in this film about a child who contracted E-coli and died after eating a fast food burger on a road trip. It is incredibly informative) and anything by Michael Pollan. In terms of watching us eat, we make sure to eat meals together as often as possible. We sometimes eat breakfast all together, and A and I sit down and eat together for lunch (if we're not out and if we are we have packed a lunch or are sitting at a restaurant), and we always always eat dinner together. Babies are little imitators and it almost goes without saying that if they see their parents eating food, then they'll get curious and want to eat. Also, if we have hangups or things we won't eat, we can't expect our kids to have diverse tastes. I have started tackling the things I tend to avoid (fish), and adding different foods (leeks or kohkrabi or fennel) to our menus. Being a part of vegetable co-op has helped with all the above.

Out of sheer laziness I didn't want to make or buy separate meals for her so would start her on purées of stuff we were already eating, having her food be simpler versions of ours but also simplifying our food to make it more accessible. If the developmental stage called for starting her on bananas and avocados, we would have bananas and avocados more in our meals, and so on, as her choices broadened.

Mr. S has a couple things to add. First, we skipped baby food meat altogether, and just waited until she had almost if not all of her teeth to introduce it. I am pretty sure she ate salmon before any other kind of meat because it was so soft. She also may have gnawed on a pork rib before actually eating the meat. Keep in mind that the addition of meat makes their poop more like real person poop. I therefore put it off as long as possible and we had actual conversations as to whether we wanted to wait until she was pooping in a toilet before making her an omnivore. We learned that for a kid to go from not liking to liking a food it takes something like 15 to 20 tries. I can't remember if the above books talk about it, but I do know that the French book suggests offering the foods a bunch of different ways to keep 'em guessing. We tried a bunch of different textures of the same things - making different consistencies of the same food (cauliflower steamed or in a puree) as well as adding different flavors (cauliflower with fennel in a puree). Something we have run into recently is getting her to eat her vegetables first if there is also, say chicken and noodles (her passion) on her plate. This has translated to eating more in courses (another French trick) - there is a squash and spinach soup we love to lead with - and making sure that the most important things make it onto her plate first. Mr. S is also really good at keeping things light at the dinner table, making eating exciting and fun.

We also talk all the time about not using food as a reward, and not bribing her with, say, dessert, to get her to eat anything. We want her to have a healthy and exuberant appreciation for food with no guilt attached and there are so many facets to consider and discuss. I don't remember where I read it - maybe in 'Unconditional Parenting' - but at some point we have to accept that our kids are their own person and there's no amount of cajoling, controlling, or forcing of food that is going to intrinsically motivate a child to love new foods. As they get older the best thing we can do is provide them with healthy and diverse food and introduce it in encouraging ways and the rest is up to the kid.

All that to say there are for sure times that I grab the Amy's mac n cheese. It took me a long time to work through all the questions I had of our own eating habits at the same time trying to stay on top of steaming, pureeing and organizing bags of frozen baby food but it has been all kinds of worth it.

Let me know if you have any questions or need advice on anything - we all know I am bossy as all get out and love telling people what to do ;)

------

So...there you go.  Food is crazy important - I believe it's the foundation on which everything else in life (physically at least) is built. Immunity, mental health, behavior, all of that. If you have any questions, or have any recipes or things you have done to get your kiddos to eat, let me know.

in like a lion

It's APRIL! I haven't been holding true to pretty much ANY of my resolutions, including #1, posting once a week on either of my blogs. I wasn't feeling super creative or inspired, but finally posted over there, and it gave me a really good jumping off point for future posts. 

1. Post once a week on my music therapy blog and on this blog

I guess I am overwhelmed with all the sharing that is done via Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and on and on and on. I like taking pictures with my phone, which makes it easy to update FB, but honestly at the end of the day I'm flipping exhausted and remembering to post on here is the last thing on my mind. Maybe I need to just focus on a couple things that I want to talk about on here - I think I've talked about this before. I love my friend's running blog because it is oh so very inspiring, it gives her a place to reach out to other frunners, and her blog is a reflection of the awesome journey she has been on from a non-Runner to a marathoner. 

As I'm typing this I see my Clematis is blooming, and my jasmine, and my garden is going nuts. I think getting that to-do list up and printed has helped me organize my brain a little better, which should lead to more posts on here. Bear with me.
 

2. Sew through the One Yard Wonders book I just got for Christmas

Haven't even done one of these. Eeks.
 

3. Run a successful (read: profitable) Etsy shop

I SOLD SOMETHING! So it was kinda profitable. Now I need to make more stuff. My creativity has been suffering as of late. I realized that all I have been doing is giving and giving and giving of myself and not really taking in anything. Even the books I read - most of them are self-help books, which just gives me another project. This has meant I've had to do some editing of the media I consume. Chaos and violence is out (thank goodness Walking Dead is on hiatus) and I've been trying to spend more time just cultivating peace and beauty through poetry, music, and enjoying my garden. I've committed myself to creativity-ifying my craft room, which has just recently gotten a couple coats of purple paint and will be getting some hardware upgrade thanks to IKEA.

Hopefully making my space more creative and organized will help me actually be in the mood to create.

4. Cook my way through the Lee Brother's Simple Fresh Southern

Now that it's Spring, I have a good excuse to do this. So many of their recipes are seasonal to warmer months.  I have been in a food rut as of late so I need to pull this book out and get to work.

5. Use raw veganism to get myself to my goal weight

Phew. Okay. I've been using raw vegan PRINCIPLES to get me to my goal weight. I started at 172 and am now down to 167. I have only health snack choices in my house, and am making daily use out of my Magic Bullet to concoct awesome smoothies. A few friends of mine are trying out Shakeology, which looks really interesting. I don't know if I'll ever do it in the future, because I know what to put in my smoothies and so far it looks pretty much exactly like what they do, except I have the time and the resources to get the fresh stuff. So I'll stick with what works for me right now. My current obsession is my after workout snack of a piece of toast, almond butter, banana, honey, and chia seeds. HEAVEN!

6. Run a half-marathon

I chose a half-marathon - it's going to be in September here in the Dallas area! To get me there, I've been using the Hal Higdon training method - I have so long between now and when I would need to start training for the half that I am currently running the Novice 5K schedule. This is my fifth week of running consistently and happily, and I'm so excited that I've stuck with it. 

I am also biking a lot - a friend sold me her bike trainer so I can bike in my living room while the nugget sleeps. I am riding in the Bike MS in a couple weeks and I'm kinda nervous about it. I've never ridden in such a big ride before. I also put together a team for Livestrong Foundation's Ride for the Roses in October, and have committed to biking 85-100 miles. We'll see if that happens.

7. Publish my thesis in a music therapy journal

8. Beef up my thesis and publish it as a book

blargh. It's hard to be in the music therapy world and connected when 99% of my day is my child. Every day is a struggle to have that balance. I adore the field and know that it's what I am meant to do, so it is important to me to stay connected somehow. I just need to DO IT.

9. Go to yoga at least once a week

HA! neither this nor the yoga DVDs have been touched in MONTHS. Did I mention I'm already working out 6 days a week?

10. Only watch 1 hour of television a day. Weekends included.

This one comes and goes. We're talking about getting rid of cable and I honestly couldn't be more excited about it!

11. Find a church and attend regularly

! We found a church. Or rather the church found us. I don't mean the building stalked us and hunted us down but as it turns out lots of people in our community go to this church because it's walking distance from our house. So, it makes sense that if we already know people and their kids and are already doing community together, that we should join this church. Plus, their baptism services are really beautiful, and the inside of the church kinda looks like Hogwarts.

12. Buy no clothes new for myself or my family (notice that I didn't say "no new clothes.")

I've blown this one for baby girl because right when the weather got awesome and warm I realized she had no shorts or short sleeved shirts, so I had to go shopping quick and didn't have time to dig through a consignment shop. Although, I love doing it - it's kinda tough with a toddler. And by that I mean impossible. 

Okay so, that's where I am right now. I said that I hadn't been holding true to any of my resolutions but it turns out I kinda have been on some. If I promise to post I won't do it so I'll just say see ya for now :)

It Takes A Village

I have blogged before about having to seek out your own village once you become a mama. I am fortunate enough to have one, quite literally, in my own back yard. And this past weekend, most were ACTUALLY in my back yard! Kyle smoked two briskets, grilled some chicken, and we sauteed some veggies, and everyone either brought sides, beer, or wine (and sometimes all three!)

We had new and old faces, new and old babies, lots of great food and wonderful conversation! I only snapped a few pictures as I was busy running around but we had THE best time ever. I am so thankful to have these people as my support system and am honored to be part of theirs. 

Do you have a village out there to help support you through whatever it is you're going through? I'd love to hear about it!

weekend away

I love surprises. 

I love getting them and springing them on people. 

I love thinking of just the right thing for just the right time in a person's life to surprise them with.

This past Friday I told my hubs that we had dinner reservations, and he had to get home at 6:30. He came in rather frazzled at 6:45 and off we went just 30 miles away to McKinney. When we pulled up to a big, old, victorian-style house that said "B&B" out front, he got suspicious.  "Uhhh...what are we doing?" 

"SPENDING THE NIGHT SURPRISE!"

I had called my mom the week before to babysit our sweet nugget while I kidnapped my hubs for a night, finding a B&B in a nearby small town. He has been working crazy long hours for the past month, to the point that we hadn't really been seeing each other and it was all kinds of time to reconnect and do what we love to do - explore, eat great food, and wander a new place.

So Friday night after his shock wore off we headed to the town square where we wandered in and out of antique shops and listened to local musicians. As it got closer to dinnertime, we checked out the McKinney Wine Merchant, as our dinner reservations were at Gregory's Bistro, which was BYOB. Y'all. The food was completely amazing. We had mussels to start - lemon, jalepeno mussels. K ordered the sirloin, and I ordered scallops. Both came with white truffle mashed potatoes, and I had some grilled asparagus on the side. Bliss, people. Gregory is legit - he was born in France and has been cooking like crazy his whole life. I am glad he ended up in Texas, because he is a genius, and our food was absolutely incredible. Afterward, we went around the corner for some gelato and then headed back to the B&B. 

The next morning, since we are parents now and cannot physically sleep in, we hopped in the hot tub on our porch before breakfast, which I'm pretty sure is the best way to start any morning, ever. Our hosts fed us pecan waffles and fruit and then we were off to the Franconia Brewery. The tour was really informative (to me, at least - the hubs has been known to brew some beers). I learned a lot about what it means to sustainably brew, and I have a lot of respect for what Franconia is doing: adhering to the German brewing purity laws, not bottling until they can work out a system of reusing their bottles like they do in Europe, and in general putting out some tasty beverages. We sat with a lovely English couple, making jokes in the warm early afternoon sun, then made our way home.

We had a fabulous, much needed relaxing weekend. Hopefully this will be a new tradition for us, exploring the small towns around Texas.

Giving Up

In high school I gave up stuff for Lent because it was trendy. Not even gonna lie. I grew up in the Bible Belt and never put much thought into giving anything up. I would give up sodas or chocolate or gossip for like a week and then forget about it. Like everyone else. 

There is so much that is hitting me weirdly and strongly now that I'm a mom, and one thing is the observation of holidays. Holy days, to be more specific. I know a lot of people hate on Religion but I honestly find the ceremony and repetition of songs, hymns, and prayers to be comforting and beautiful. I think that's part of the reason I hate contemporary worship services so much. There is a rhythm to all things in life, and specific observations of the shifts in rhythm (birth, growth, death) reminds us (well, me at least) that God's the one who's got this thing under control and not me. Something I need reminding of kind of, oh I don't know, all the time.

The hubs grew up Methodist and I grew up nondenominational. I don't even know if I was supposed to capitalize the N in "nondenominational" right there. As far as I'm concerned, it's a big ol' paradox because I'm pretty sure now nondenominational is Nondenominational. If you know what I mean.

I never paid attention to this arbitrary Hangover Wednesday, but secretly coveted the ashes on everyone else's foreheads at school. I like being in clubs, ok?

So back to the point, I went to Methodist church today at noon (to get my ashes YEAH!) with a friend who has two kids, and my angel. Which means the kids outnumbered us 3 to 2. Which means that we got some DIRTY STINK EYES from a lady in purple two rows up MORE than once. Yes I saw that, and I'm pretty sure Jesus a) saw it too and b) doesn't care. And while we're at it, hopefully He doesn't care that I was rocking some baby bird chic hair and workout clothes because I might have accidentally locked my child in the car briefly after Stroller Strides and had PLANNED on taking a shower before church but I was too busy calling 911 and panicking. Yes, that really happened.

Sorry to be tangental. I'll get to the point here in a minute. I only have half of the sermon notes because I was too busy ripping it in half to keep my daughter from squirming/screaming/runningdowntheaisle and I hate to be all mothers-are-the-center-of-the-universe on you but I'm pretty sure Lent was made for mamas.

Example A: Hymn #526

(second verse)

Are we weak and heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care?

Precious Savior, still our refuge; take it to the Lord in prayer.

Do thy friends despise, forsake thee? Take it to the Lord in prayer!

In His arms he'll take and shield thee; thou wilt find a solace there.

Example B: Prayer of Confession

Gracious God, how frayed our lives have become, a collection of loose ends, rushed relationships, and distand dreams. We have not kept our eyes upon your saving cross, nor listened with undivided attention to your voice. We have not loved you as you have loved us, nor have we loved our neighbor as ourselves. Forgive us, restore us, renew us. Lamb of God you take away the sins of the world; grant us your peace. Amen.

For real.

At any rate, I am really getting into this Lent thing this year and found this Lent Guide from The Village Church and though we don't attend there, it looks pretty amazing and I think I'm going to follow it. And probably write about it, except for when I have to give up technology for a week of course.

haphazard gardening goodness

Winter has been driving me crazy, y'all. It's been cold, my family has been sick, and I've had to resort to throwing open the windows to get fresh air and clear out the funk in my house. To make matters worse, I would pass by my bleak, untended garden and sigh half-heartedly, trying to decide if and when I wanted to plant anything until Springtime. You see, North Texas has had a horribly mild winter, and I keep thinking it's going to freeze. This time last year, it snowed for a week. With every high-of-mid-50s-low-60s days that pass, my doubt grows.

So finally, in a fit of impatience and impulse, I raided my favorite gardening store for cures for the common pre-Springtime blahs. One corner of my garden is rocking the tender greens, herbs, and chard that I planted in the fall, so of course that section is looking super sexy. 

Sadly, the other 3/4 of the garden was horrid. Dusty brown old mulch, dead plants, YUCK. Enter: gardening madness:

Here's what I planted: 

Edibles

Bok Choy (purple)

Chamomile

Chard (bright lights)
Collard Greens

Dill (sacrificial)

Dinosaur Kale *

Lavender

Radicchio

Spinach

Thyme

Violas

Purely Aesthetic

Pansies

Ranunculus

Some cute little white flower that I couldn't find the tag for

PHEW! I am finally standing by "love the garden you've got." I will no longer lament the lack of sun needed to grow gorgeous tomatoes and peppers in the hot summer sun. Instead I will eat my fill of collard greens, kale, and herbs.

* The dinosaur kale was my super epic find, and I think I planted either 3 or 4 - I juice a few leaves of this plant every morning with an apple and an orange, as it's supposed to help with thyroid imbalance. Now instead of buying it I can go out and pick me some to juice! If you know anything about me you know how happy this makes me.

I have heard that mothering and gardening are two difficult things to have coexist...especially when your child is recovering from a cough and it's cold outside and the days are still short and your hubby gets home after it gets dark sometimes. Today I discovered the magical antidote for that: NAPTIME.

Speaking of naptime, I've got miles to go before she wakes up. Anyone out there have plans for your Spring garden?

fighting the blahs

and, in other news I started reading several things as of late - I cannot get enough bookage at the moment. I'm quite in the middle of ALL of following:

This book...wow...makes you look at your closet in a whole new way.

got the above book because it was mentioned in "7" - hoping to start a weekly Shabbat. Me and the hubs have been talking about it for years. It should've been one of my resolutions.

It is because of this book and then checking out this blog right here that I have hereby resolutely and definitively decided to have a sunnier outlook on life and quit taking myself so seriously. Yes, even if I've been barfed on 4 times, yes, even if I'm blue on the edges from the weirdness of motherhood. I really am blessed, and it's high time I start acting like it. Even if I have to fake it 'til I make it.

yoga-licious

Okay so I know one of my resolutions is to do yoga once a week, and I assumed that it meant I would be going to classes once a week. However, I recently ordered some yoga DVDs to do here at home because -get this- the hubs is going to be doing the yogas with me! I figure I can do one a day, depending on when I wake up and when/if the nugget sleeps. I have found that moving my body, breathing, all that stuff, helps center my brain and my heart so that I can face everything else with a little more joy. I'm stoked that my tall-dark-and-handsome will be doing this as well because I think it'll be a good stress reliever. Plus he's about as flexible as a 2x4.

Some other stuff I'm doing is writing in my journal every day, which helps me filter a lot of the endless stream of consciousness in my head and get it out. What came out yesterday was the concept of being replaced. I suppose this isn't a particularly fair assessment, because I know that once I became a mama, things changed...friendships changed...I changed. I consider myself to be a very loyal friend, and am glad in some ways that I am the first of my Dallas friends (ie the ones I see all the time) to have a kid because I have so much perspective now, and know how to be a better friend...not just to other mamas but just in general. In some ways it's been hard though because I have had to find community with other mamas, which meant doing a lot of work getting to know new people and families and doing that whole 'need a friend? be a friend' thing. I am generally viewed as an outgoing, bubbly person, but at my core I am an introvert and very rooted in my friendships so when I was faced with having to find a new support system FAST, I was overwhelmed. I dove in, and thankfully have found some incredible friends pretty much in my own back yard and have had the opportunity to connect with some old friends online who are now moms. Thank you Facebook.

The thing is that it still hurts is not knowing that the carefree, spontaneous days have dwindled, but more than that is seeing and hearing about close friends doing things that I used to do with them...things that they no longer think to invite me to. Which is just as well in a lot of cases - my hours of happiness are usually spent fixing dinner and having a dance party with/attempting to feed and sometimes getting food thrown at me by my baby girl. 

And the late nights, I've already learned the hard way, are just not an option any more. Staying out is fun and great, but it's as if they know, and every time without fail that's the night your sweet angel will wake up bright eyed and rarin' to go at 3am. And you WILL have a headache from the bubbly, and you WILL hate life. It is just NOT worth it. I get that, and I spent a lot of time in college having the time of my life and watching the sunrise. It's time to move along to other things. It's just that (ugh I can't believe I'm saying this) I miss my old girlfriends, and like to think that maybe I'm not just viewed as a mama now. It's a constant battle in my head - part of me wants to type "so what if you are?! quit your bellyaching and enjoy the ride!" and then the sensitive overly analytical side wants to be all "pity? party of one? your table's ready." I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that when I was prego I was really, really sick, and really, really flaky because I just could not figure out when I was going to be okay and when I was going to be queasy.

So anyway. Every day is a learning experience and I am thankful for the moms I have met this past year that have helped me along. I don't know if I've mentioned this before but right when I decided to stay home with Addy I had lunch with one of my husband's coworkers who I greatly admire and she said something that has stuck with me - that being a stay at home mom "can be really isolating." I found that statement to be so weird because everyone says "It takes a village!" - which, it truly does. What they don't tell you is that a lot of times (maybe just in Western culture?) the village doesn't just appear, you have to go out and build it yourself.

Anyone out there with or without kiddos who can relate?

outings

The other day I hit my local thrift store in search of comfy threads. I do not want to be a sweatpants-and-tshirt kind of mama. Or even a jeans-all-the-time kind of mama. I want to be able to put something on that expresses my personality, who cares if I'm just going to Target. This means that the things I'm looking for must be durable, washable (hel-lo messy eater in my face all the time), appropriate to wear to playdates, and above all: comfortable enough to wear while rolling around on the floor.

Whilst checking out, the girl behind the counter asked if I am told frequently that I bear a strong resemblance to Maggie Gyllenhaal, to which I replied, "Yeah. All the time." It's the truth. Especially when my hair is cut into this asymmetrical bob and has any sort of curl in it whatsoever. I may or may have not used that mistaken identity to my advantage a night or two back in Austin.

Anyway, she went on to sigh, "Wow it must be such a burden to have such a strong resemblance to a celebrity." 

Someone has to bear it.

Oh and yes I found some sweet threads there. Post coming soon on that one.

I recently was diagnosed with a small tear in my right medial meniscus which according to the orthopedist means I need surgery (not going to happen buddy) either now or later when it gets worse and according to my chiropractor and massage therapist means that I have to reduce the frequency and intensity of my workouts to 50%, do some daily icing and heating, take glucosamine/chondritin supplements, lose weight (20 pounds 'til I'm at my goal), and not play team sports like soccer or basketball (um, check.)

I went about a week and a half before going completely crazy. First off, winter has shown up in spades here in the metroplex and second, I am a WUSS in the cold. I absolutely HATE being cold and not being able to warm up and because I live in Texas have a skewed view of how to dress appropriately (what do you MEAN I have to wear SOCKS?). I think A being born last year about this time and my demands request to keep the house around 75 totally screwed me up. I remember thinking, "Why is everyone wearing coats when they come to see me? It's warm in here," not remembering that it was icy out.

Also traumatizing was being the first leg of the White Rock Marathon Relay team last Sunday, where it was not only cold but rained on me for five miles. I called the hubs on the way home, teeth literally chattering, and asked him to p-p-p-lee-e-e-a-s-e m-m-m-ake m-me a f-f-f-f-f-fire and some t-t-t-t-tea.

Yesterday I had a straight up case of cabin fever. I was dejected. Useless. Depressed. Not only do I crave sunlight to function, I need that extra serotonin boost so my brain doesn't spiral out of control. I also desperately need to keep a regular schedule for myself or else I get exactly nothing done and have no motivation to do anything.

Today, I did me some modified stroller strides and WOW my brain is buzzing. It always amazes me how wonderful working out makes me feel and how lost I would be without it.

Speaking of feeling wonderful, have you started thinking about your New Year's Resolutions? I tend to be really theoretical on this thing and have realized that by the end of the year I have not in any way stuck to my goals. So this time, I'm reaching deep into my scientific(ish) brain and coming up with measurable goals.

1. Post once a week on my music therapy blog and on this blog
2. Sew through the One Yard Wonders book I just got for Christmas
3. Run a successful (read: profitable) Etsy shop
4. Cook my way through the Lee Brother's Simple Fresh Southern
5. Use raw veganism to get myself to my goal weight
6. Run a half-marathon
7. Publish my thesis in a music therapy journal
8. Beef up my thesis and publish it as a book
9. Go to yoga at least once a week
10. Only watch 1 hour of television a day. Weekends included.
11. Find a church and attend regularly
12. Buy no clothes new for myself or my family (notice that I didn't say "no new clothes.")

That sounds about right. 12 goals for 2012. What are your 12?

Vampirosity

I read this article a couple days ago and even though it's written from the dad's point of view, I found a lot of it hitting home for me. This week has been very tough in the whole did-I-do-the-right-thing realm. It all started with a photo posted on facebook, which made me miss my old workplace, which then made me miss everyone who works there, and the kids I worked with, and blam. Death spiral of regret.

And then I read the whole thing about how the author likens becoming a parent to becoming a vampire, and seriously, it's true. This is going to sound so absolutely lameballs but I feel like before Adeline I was watching life go by like in the beginning of The Wizard of Oz when everything's in black and white and then she shows up and lights everything up with color and sparkles and dancing munchkins. I hate to even say things like that at the risk of being one of those moms, the ones who think that people just don't get it unless they are parents. I mean, I got life, I loved life, just having Addy has made everything, myself included, more awesome. 

And yes, the transition has been a sad, painful one. I cried today just talking about it with a friend who wanted to know how I balance being a mom and still being me, something that I deliberately work on pretty much every single day. Before I became a mom I was terrified that I would completely lose myself in a tornado of diapers, bottles, and conversations about butt cream. I cried often about wanting my old life back (and sometimes about wanting my body back), feeling like I was suddenly used up and done with my wanderlust.

In a weird twist it's taken exactly that: me losing myself in the wonder I see in my daughter's eyes, losing myself in the joy she has at discovering new things, losing myself in the new way I have to look at my own frustration, anger, and regrets so that I can be fully present for my child and be what I think is a good parent. I will never be content to be average, to spend nights in front of the TV watching other people live their lives, to let life pass me by. 

I know that so many women in my generation were raised by driven, passionate, loving women who told us we could do anything we wanted to! Reach for the stars! Don't let anything stand in your way! So that's what I did - I traveled, I loved, I did a whole bunch of crazy stuff and I honestly looked down on the concept of being a stay at home mom. I never wanted to go to college to find a husband, didn't want to get married right out of college, and certainly never entertained the idea of being a sahm in suburban Dallas. We were told we can do both (and gosh darn that SJP - she just made a movie about it, which I heard is terrible) and after being in the 40 hour work week for a few months as a new mom, I know that no matter how passionate I was about my job, I just couldn't do it and I have mad respect for those who do. 

 

What they don't tell you is that there's a catch to having it all. Either way you have to sacrifice something. When I was working I was sacrificing successful breastfeeding, being there to see my daughter crawl for the first time, and my relationship with my husband because we were just too exhausted to speak by the end of each day. At home I feel like I'm sacrificing keeping my mind and my practice sharp, relationships I had built with patients and staff and friends, and the overall sublime joy I had at walking into a patient room not knowing what was about to happen exactly but knowing it was going to be awesome.

I am humbled and thankful that I have the choice to be home, because I know that God willing later on I will have the choice to go back. I'm not entirely out of the MT world - this weekend I'm giving three presentations and hopefully getting the word out about music therapy in a way that will get some people some jobs.

So yeah. Now I finally feel like I have superpowers and a taste for blood. She has been worth all this...all this chaos and growing and pain and joy. All of it.

9ish months does not = over it.

'kay so I've been quiet on the whole personal, emotional front, mostly because I've been going through a lot and I haven't had the time or the brainpower to get it all down the way I wanted to. To catch us all up, here's where we're at: I've got some lingerling postpartum depression/anxiety issues, perhaps dealing with some PTSD. I'm taking an anti-depressant for all those things, trying to find holistic ways to do it so I don't always have to be on the drug. I've always been down on anti-depressants, but it's kind of a necessary thing at this time, and I don't want to go back to the nightmares and the anxiety attacks. A bonus is that my thyroid is kind of jacked up, which just makes all of the above a fun carnival ride of awesomeness.

I don't mean to paint a bleak picture - the day-to-day is really kind of awesome a lot of the time, and I'm enjoying being home with A. Just sometimes there are days like today where I read a story about another mom's horrendous C-section experience and I end up a little shaky and a whole lot weepy. Thankfully I have people to call when that happens and then I jump headfirst into my journal, and try to make some time to paint.

But gosh, it's hard sometimes. I want to be so awesome at everything and right now I feel like I am just scraping by.

This all feels a whole lot like when my life was almost literally falling down around me in my early teenage years. This time I've decided to look at the dark places a little bit differently - instead of trying to swallow everything and pretend like it's fine, just fine, thanks - and use them to fuel my creativity. Grief is a powerful force and already it's drawn me back to who I am and who I want to be creatively.

Even that is a double-edged sword - I still have to write down lists of things that I need to get done each day to feel accomplished and not have a whole day go by before I realize what time it is. 

The taking care of and loving on the cutest baby in all the land is the easy part. I say easy because it's not like there's a choice involved there - she will grow up happy, healthy, and probably more than a little sarcastic. Parenting is no joke - it's exhausting, it's frustrating, and it stretches me and makes me grow so much it hurts on a daily basis. And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here. 

Well okay, probably I'd go for a beach right about now, but you know what I mean.

now it's time to get back

Just a quick update as my sunshine is napping for more than 20 minutes for the first. time. today.

1) I joined Stroller Strides! thinking "hey this will be a nice little workout and I can meet moms." I get my ass kicked 3 times a week and it is AWESOME. and painful. in a good way.

2) I met and hung out with a raw foods coach and am going to go "high raw vegetarian" starting tomorrow. Kind of excited about it. 

3) I had a moment last week after Stroller Strides when after class a herd of ducks came up to us so I took A out of her stroller and stood her up on the sidewalk. She smiled SO BIG and started sort of QUACK-ing at them! In that moment I thought to myself, "yeah, I wouldn't be anywhere else."

4) KINGS OF LEON with BAND OF HORSES on FRIDAY!

5) My garden is absolutely amazing. Pics soon!

Independence

"Moving on is a simple thing. What it leaves behind is hard." - Dave Mustaine

After lots of careful deliberation, some therapy, and a round of Zoloft, 

I've decided to be a stay at home mom with Adeline :) There of course is more to the story but I'm still working on processing it and how I want to say about how my family got to this decision.

Mostly it's because she's irresistible...

Happy (early) Fourth!

Step 1

If there's anything that I'm disorganized most about that makes me the most crazy, it's my complete inability to conceive of and execute a weekly dinner plan. I mean, the conception isn't that difficult. It's the execution. The get home work out relax(?) laundry tidy up feed child make dinner put child to bed in whatever order or permutation of help from my awesome hubs and mom it happens to happen. 

Case in point: it is 9:10pm and there's still 10 minutes to go on the eggplant parmesan.

Which brings me to my next point: Meatless Mondays! I have played around with vegetarian and veganism for awhile now and after getting the hell scared out of me by reading The China Study have decided to make a concerted effort to get my little family to eat less meat.

I absolutely worship eggplant parmesan. I don't care who makes it or where it's from (Campisi's though...mmm talk to me slowly) I adore it. So, it being Monday I decided to try out a recipe from my mom's old dusty 1970s cookbook with a screechy baby trying to be rocked to sleep in the next room. Is it just me or does the sound of your crying child make you lose brain cells and/or concentration as well? Anyway, I can't tell if the recipe was terrible or if my brain was just operating on half speed, but it's going to be done in 5 minutes and you best believe I'll be tweaking it because it will not. best. me.

So yeah - my goal for these next few weeks is to have a plan and carry it through. Wednesday: Chicken & Artichoke Enchiladas with Black Beans! Maybe I'll even give you my beans recipe. You can woo people with these beans, I'm not even lying.

Happy Monday!