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.

Squash Fall Celebration Soup

Today I created an insanely delicious and super easy soup that you need in your kitchen this fall:

Ingredients:

1 butternut squash

1 acorn squash

1 Tbs  oil

1 red bell pepper

2 poblano peppers

3 slices of bacon

1 onion

2 cloves of garlic

stock of your choice

salt and pepper

Create:

Fire up your oven to 400F

Slice your squashes in half, scoop out the insides, and brush some oil (I used almond) on the insides and place them flesh side down on a baking sheet. Roast them for about 45 minutes.

Slice the peppers in half and seed them, and coat those with oil. Put them in a smaller oven safe pan and roast them about 15 minutes.

While your veg is roasting, take a dutch oven or large pot and start cooking your bacon. You're not going to want the bacon crispy but you want to get some oil from it. Throw your onions and garlic in and sauté them until the onions are translucent and the garlic smells good. Next, the peppers out of the oven and put them in the pot as well.

When your squash is done, peel it and put it in the pot, then add just enough stock to cover everything by half. Get everything simmery for 15 or so minutes and then blend everything either in a blender or with an immersion blender.

If I was going to do this again I would have added sage and chives but today it was one of those baby-screaming days so I straight up forgot. 

Let me know if you try this! It's delightful and you could so easily riff on it a million different ways. Also, this is something hat would be great for the whole family as a first course and to freeze for your baby food stash.

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.

chicken salad one two punch

I just made a chicken salad that made the hubby say, "You've got to write this down. It's so good." 

Unfortunately for you, it's probably going to be the most obnoxious recipe ever in the history of recipes because I threw in a chard stem relish that had been sitting in our fridge for a couple months...but I think there are some adjustments to make that will make it doable. I hadn't made chicken salad in a good while so I kind of went nuts, trying to use up random little bits from our pantry that never get used.

So first, the relish. 

NO! First, a tasty little trick I learned at a farmer's market that involves getting a tiny ball jar, filling it with mustard seeds, drowning the seeds in white wine or plain vinegar, and letting it sit for a couple weeks until the mustard seeds get soft. I have quite the addiction to this and love putting it on just about everything. We always have a little jar or two of this stuff on hand, and find ourselves tossing it in whatever needs a little acidic zesty zing - salad dressings, chicken marinades, on crackers with goat cheese, in barbecue dippy, really anything you can think of, try it out. Okay so first, do that.

NOW, the relish. We were introduced to the concept of a cooked "pickle" condiment by The Lee Brothers' Pan-fried whiting with pickled peppers and onions (page 191) and by watching copious amounts of Chopped when we had cable.

Also frustrating? We don't really measure. Everything depends on how much chard you currently have at your disposal. For us in the fall/winter and spring, we grow absurd amounts of chard. According to Tamar Adler in An Everlasting Meal, the French do the opposite of Americans and eat their chard stems, giving the leaves to their chickens, because the colorful stems of the rainbow variety are more nutritionally packed than the leaves *

Inspired, we wanted to come up with creative ways to eat chard stems. Luckily, I'm not really a fan of celery, so we sub it like crazy in places that call for cooked celery.

Chard Stem Relish

Ingredients:

white wine vinegar (this is the base of the pickle)

one garlic clove, minced

mustard seed marinade

honey or agave 

celery seed 

red pepper flakes 

salt & pepper

chard stems, chopped
onion, chopped

Method:

1. Heat up the vinegar, mustard seed marinade, sweetener, celery seed, red pepper flakes, and salt and pepper in a sauce pan on medium heat. You don't really want this stuff to boil, just be like a nice hot bath base.

2. Once the liquid is good and simmery, add the chard stems, onion, and garlic and let it simmer long enough to get the raw crunch out of the stems and onion, but you still want a little bit of crunch. Pack it up in a Ball jar and let it sit in your fridge for a couple weeks.

Pro tip: The Mister would like to add that this stuff is heavenly on bratwurst.

Um, you're going to hate me. We also roasted a chicken (recipe also from the above mentioned Lee Brother's book) the day before making this. So...besides the mustard seed and the chard pickle, roast you a chicken. Or buy a chicken already roasted, or roast some chicken parts.

NOW without further ado:

Christina's Chicken Salad

Ingredients:

1 whole roasted chicken or the equivalent, chopped **

Mr. Stock's chard pickle ***
A couple spoonsful of nutritional yeast
Sesame seeds

Sunflower seeds

Greek yogurt ****

Mayonnaise (don't worry - I didn't make this myself...this time...)

Sweet pickle relish

Black pepper

Method: 

1. Chop chicken, put it in a big bowl

2. Dump everything else on top of the chicken, mix.
3. Garnish with butter lettuce, tomatoes, red onion, and grapes. 

4. Die of happiness

* hopefully you don't toss your chard leaves - that stuff is so versatile...put it in your pot of beans, sauté it with olive oil and vinegar, make it up into a pot of greens like you would with collards, eat it raw in a salad...oh and okay the gnarly leaves that we grow that are eaten by bugs or just weather worn we toss to our chickens.

**If you're using a whole chicken, be sure and save the bones and make your own chicken stock in a crock pot. Easy peasy and saves you money. 

*** Substitute chopped celery, a dash of mustard, and some white wine vinegar

**** I did about half Greek yogurt and half mayo

This recipe is killer on so many levels. I'm in my 3rd trimester of pregnancy and need to pack in as much nutrition as I can into several tiny meals throughout the day because room in my stomach is just getting scarce. I have found that when I don't eat nutritionally dense foods, I'm just starving all day, and between that and having to drink lots of water so I don't get headaches or go crazy...it makes for a maddening daily existence. So, this recipe is extra jammy packed with protein, plus random goodness that is good for my body and baby.

community will save you.

It wasn't until after baby A was born that I found the parents, the anchors, the friends that have gotten me through the last three years. We moved ourselves right in and pursued the hearts and kitchens and sanity of each other and when I think that I've only been friends with some of these people for less than 3 years...it's mind-blowing. 

I was in a dark place after A's birth and community turned the light back on. I know it's rare but our neighborhood has for the most part very similar parenting styles and is full of people who love to laugh, eat and drink together, and watch our kids grow. I was worried that A would have that "only child syndrome" because I was going to stay home with her, but 10 minutes into a playdate you can see what the parents in the heights see every day: our kids are pretty much like siblings. Which in turn means that my kid basically has like 10 siblings. They laugh and fight and cry and taunt each other in ways that only siblings can. I love this, I love watching this, and I hope that 20 years from now our kids will have what I have: a network of friends with WAY too much dirt on each other. 

Community has gotten me through this pregnancy in the most incredible ways, and when pregnant mamas ask me what they need to know, I tell them that they need to start building their village. It can be built after the baby gets here but I think it would have helped to know who was out there and exactly where when the time came for me to reach out and find other families. I find this happens pretty much around 4-6 months with first timers...once you start sleeping a little bit more and feeling like you can be more than just a feeding/cleaning machine that runs on nothing but caffeine and snuggles. 

Last pregnancy I was fairly sure I had to do everything myself, including pull myself up from my bootstraps when I was feeling crappy. This time, when exhaustion or the funk sets in I know there are people I can call to make sure my child doesn't set fire to herself accidentally while I lay on the couch drifting in and out of consciousness. People to eat with when I don't feel like cooking or eating, people to come over and play when one more 3-year-old "I DON'T WANT TO DO THAT" (really? it's just putting on your socks...) threatens to turn me into a quivering mess of defeat.

Community. Get you one. You won't regret it. And if you get into a crappy one, get out of that and find your people. They're out there, and want to love you.

hospitality and contemplation

This past weekend I had the opportunity to first drive down to NB to see my brand new niece and take the fledgling family dinner. I stayed with a dear friend and the next day drove to Austin for a women's conference called IF:Gathering and stayed with Austinites. I had the best time, and was struck over and over again by the hospitality of my friends. Both houses I stayed in, these are folks I have known at least a decade or more, and man. They know how to host a guest. I am so thankful.

I walked away inspired by both women immensely. At the first house, I quizzed her on her morning routine (she gets up at 5am! I wish I had that kind of discipline!) to drink coffee, eat an apple and some peanut butter, watch the news, gather her thoughts. She explained all this while stirring extra salt into her crunchy peanut butter. I have never lived by myself, but from this brief overnight started thinking that even though I don't live by myself now, I can still have routines and order just because that is who I want to be and how I want to live. Kind of like, living independently while living in community, if that makes sense. It is something that is difficult to do while trying to run a house and take care of two other people but I think maybe cultivating some practices that are just my own - ie: doing the dishes because I like a clean slate before starting a project/meal, and not because I am obligated to the other people in my house to do it - will help me retain my me-ness in this season. 

I am intoxicated by the thought of a morning to myself. A quiet, pre-breakfast snack, tea-filled time of contemplation, journaling, and whatever I want, before the day gets rowdy and hectic. Because oh man. Until about the end of March, life is full to the brim with things that have to get done, and life with a toddler and husband and being pregnant...hectic. rowdy. I just have to start putting myself to bed at 9:30 to make this happen. It's worth a shot.

The second house I stayed at I felt such freedom to find rest and be nourished. This friend moved recently from Dallas back to her house in Austin and I realized that I had never actually stayed at her house in our near decade of friendship because we had always lived close by each other. The first morning there, she made me this bowl of greatness for me that I have to share: 

Quinoa Love Bowl: The only things that are essential here are some quinoa and a fried egg. Everything else is optional, so feel free to riff on it. The original one made by my friend had quinoa, egg, turkey sausage, and avocado. This morning's variation features avocado, tomatoes, and parmesan cheese. Think seasonal and delicious when creating yours. I know that tomatoes aren't in season right now but Whole Foods tricked me into buying local heirloom ones that I thought were ready, but they're not. Still a little too crunchy...and I was too hungry to wilt them in a hot pan before eating. We have some pickled beets in the fridge and right now I'm dreaming of one with pickled beets, goat cheese, and wilted kale. 

Let me know what your favorite morning or evening routines are. I am inherently a person who loathes routine, but lately find myself craving the development of little regular oases...anchors in the storm of life.

It's Time to Begin, Isn't It?

This post today is brought to you by tremendous amounts of ugly crying. 

I am sitting here, overwhelmed, because suddenly I want to write about ALL THE THINGS...there is so much. But I'll just start with today and call it good enough. 

I'm 16 weeks pregnant with our second kiddo, and last week had my first appointment with the doctor who will deliver this baby. Suffice to say I had a really tough time picking a provider. My first daughter's birth was completely wheels-off and crazy and I spent nearly three years cowering in PPD and off-the-charts anxiety. I didn't write a lot because I had a lot to sort through, relationship-wise, mama-wise, and I didn't want to do it publicly. I guess I'm writing to say: It Gets Better.

Birth trauma sucks, and I'm learning from dear friends that you don't even have to have a three day labor that ends in a cesarean birth to be traumatized. The loss of control, blood, modesty, and sometimes even just the startling fact of, "I'm used to things working out, and this might not work out..." is enough to send one's body into a super case of fight-or-flight. And not in a good way.

So...fast forward through rocking my newborn with tears streaming down my face, countless therapy sessions, anxiety attacks, nighttime (ie: INFINITELY WORSE) anxiety attacks, prayers on my face, friends not understanding, thinking I'm crazy, therapy, being terrified of having more babies, antidepressants, and...did I mention therapy? to two days after I found out I am pregnant again: me, curled up in the fetal position, telling the mister that I'm convinced I'm going to die.

Hello, fight-or-flight. Missed you.

Just kidding. Opposite day. More like:
WHAT THE HELL I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEALT WITH.

Surprise.

And you know what? This pregnancy was TOTALLY PLANNED. I went into this all "YEAH! best idea ever! it's going to be great!" thinking that I could just fake it 'til I made it. So, back into therapy I went, for several different areas of life. The journaling and processing started up again, and I began searching for a supportive birth team. I spilled the beans the day that plus sign showed up to my previous doula/current chiropractor. We cried, and then after a few weeks she gave me the names of several providers in the area, and suggested a meeting with the best doula we knew to help get my head straight. After that meeting I scheduled an appointment with the doctor who delivered A and then one with a doctor she recommended.

The one who delivered A was...fine. Charming. Great guy. I mostly went because I was curious how my feelings would be about him, and also because I wanted to get his perspective on VBACs. I'd heard he was one of THE guys in Dallas that champion them. I was disappointed to have him start immediately laying out risks and all the ways in which a VBAC could go wrong, including uterine rupture, which he mentioned at my 6 week postpartum checkup and then I made the mistake of googling it and ended up on the floor in my first panic attack that day. Don't get me wrong, I have climbed way out of the crunchy rabbit hole since my very, very humbling birth with A and I have pretty much ZERO expectations, and a healthy appreciation for modern medicine, so I need to hear that stuff. Throw in a transvaginal sonogram done by a dude and we'll just say I was...turned off.

Since I was a new patient with the new doctor I had to wait to be seen first to do labs (at around 13 weeks is when I did this), then meet with the RN to get a full history taken and THEN meet with the doc (this was last week). I had even managed to get my ex-midwife to give me a copy of my file (that in itself is its own blog post) and brought it. The RN and doc had lots of questions about my birth, wanted to know what my expectations were for this one, and led with the empowering and empathetic understanding I was looking for in doc #1. They said things like, "You will NOT be in labor for 3 days this time." and "You made it to 8cm with no pain meds? You've so got this." and "We're going to be realistic about where your birth is going, don't get me wrong, but we're also not going to put you on a clock and insist on a cesarean and pull the plug early on your efforts." The RN and the doc both effervesced about the nursing staff at the hospital, the doula I chose, and my chiropractor.

When the doc left the room, I exhaled, replaced my paper gown with my clothes, and slowly walked through the hallway to the checkout counter, admiring all the squishy babies on the wall. As I checked out, I felt a prickle behind my eyes that turned into full on bawling by the time I made it to my car. I sat and sobbed like a crazy person...like a full-on Biblical professional wailing woman. I started getting a little concerned it wasn't going to stop but I just kept scrolling through my playlists on Spotify, landing on whatever song struck me as appropriate. Imagine Dragons was first and then Bob Marley. I forget the rest.

It went on for about 20 minutes.

It's been a week, and I can say that whatever that was turned a tiny little light on in my soul. I can repeat, "I am safe," to myself at night when a nightmare wakes me up, and I believe it. I am actually hungry, I laugh more, and I feel like being around people again. I know this is probably coinciding with the second trimester boost, but whatever. That catharsis was way overdue and I know it did my heart some good. I honestly didn't know how sad and anxious I was until it all came pouring out.

Am I sleep deprived? Stressed? Unsure? Yes. I have a three year old and have NO IDEA what I'm doing. She sleeps like an alligator trying to take large prey under on a death roll, and I'm either starving or have to pee 24/7. But this little light...it's started shining through the cracks.

I'm dancing again, trusting, hoping again.

Phew. It gets better.

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.

fits and starts

So, little A is about to be 3, which totally blows my mind. I've been thinking about the blog lately and thinking about how much I wanted to write but couldn't - a) because there was nothing new under the sun. SO MANY good mommy bloggers out there! b) I didn't just want to blog about mom stuff and c) having a child is hard. It's hard on friendships, it's hard on a marriage, hard on your individual psyche. I just wanted to deal with my stuff personally instead of using the blog as a broken record of negativity and then d) Lord have mercy, the space in my mind to string a thought together was JUST SO EXHAUSTING.

I make no promises that I'll keep writing but, lately my brain has been filling up with Things and here seems as good a place to get 'em out as any.

Last night we were up pretty much all night with the nugget. She has asthma, and this time last year we landed in the ER because she had a cough but we thought she was getting better and we wanted her little body to fight of the "cold" we thought surely she had and you know how it goes when you have it "oh tomorrow I'll be better...no...maybe the next day will be better..." and we just played that game for too many days until she couldn't get through a sentence without a coughing fit. Scared the daylights out of me. We've managed to keep things under control this year and I've been trying to avoid using the nebulizer if it wasn't necessary but oh, it's time. And I feel so foolish for having to go to the doctor and pay him $80 for him to tell me something I already know. But this asthma learning curve is steep. If I could take it off her, I would. I hated having it as a kid, and remember being afraid to go to sleep because I was afraid I would stop breathing. Now when she gets like this she sleeps in bed with us because I'm afraid SHE will stop breathing. 

The crunchy mama in me wants to get to the bottom of this asthma, and her eczema, so next week we have an appointment with an allergist to get her tested. I'm tempted to also get myself tested as an adult since I was allergic to every little thing as a kid and wonder where it all landed, if I'm still allergic to the same stuff. From there we'll look at making dietary changes if necessary. I know I was allergic to all dairy as a kid, so if we had to cut that out, it wouldn't be too entirely tough on our family, but goodbye convenience foods like Amy's Mac & Cheese. Sigh.

So yeah - that's the biggest news for now. There's a lot of other things to write about coming up - I have a strong desire to hunker and purge everything in our house, to do all the projects and organizing that we've wanted to do for a long time because I feel stuck in the same mess and papers and room-that's-always-a-disaster-'cos-we-haven't-finished-it-yet. I have plans, though. And these next several months is all about bringing them to fruition. AND learning about how to budget and plan for those plans. I told you. Lots in my brain that needs to get out. Here goes.

The 7 Experiment

I have been a Jen Hatmaker fan for a couple years now, wishing she would come speak to my Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) group. I found her books because I was looking for a women's devotional and came across "Out of the Spin Cycle," then noticed she had written a whole bunch of other stuff. I now order "Spin Cycle" in multiples of 5 from Amazon and I give them out to every mom who wants one. That stuff is hilarious.

When I read "Interrupted," I was hooked. I come from a very churched background and am simply disappointed with what mainstream Christian culture has become, so that book really spoke to me. I read "7" a couple years ago and it started messing with my brain a little in the best way possible. The book is all about reducing one's self and stuff in order for God to move in his or her life. I had a one-year-old at the time and was still feeling all, "Who am I now? What do I want my life to be like?" and the ever so looming, "Holy moly I'll be 30 soon...time to you know...do some significant stuff." Time and time again the lessons that have come to me have been that I need to get myself and family and home together if I want to be able to be a positive force in this world and really help people. What good am I after all if I do all this good stuff but my family or home or friendships are neglected?

So, Jen came to speak at our church a couple weeks ago and now the pastor is preaching for the next few weeks about the themes in the book. I also am co-leading a small discussion group of fierce ladies. The book covers seven different areas of life to focus on reducing. The first week is food. I have decided that I am going to make seven rules for my week. The food fast may go all 7 weeks. We'll just play it by ear.

1. No meat

2. No alcohol

3. No fast food (I have a thing for fries)

4. No gluten

5. No watching TV while eating

6. Donate 10% of grocery bill to local food agency

7. Clear the sink every night

I know I know I know you're not supposed to do a fast and let anyone know about it. I feel like I should document this though. What am I hoping to get out of this? Well...more of Jesus. My prayer last night and today has gone something like, "Dear God. I am a HOT mess. There are relationships and thoughts and habits I have that I know you want to get Your hands on. So...do it. Please."

 

Holding on for a bumpy ride. 

D is for Dallas

Six-years-ago-me hates that this blog series is even going to happen, but I have something I need to share with you guys: 

I love Dallas. 

I have recently found myself defending its hidden awesomeness up one side and down the other, even bristling when someone else who lives in the Metroplex and PLAYS REGULARLY in Dallas got all high and mighty about how much better Fort Worth is. Now, Fort Worth is awesome. I love the culture, love the vibe, and love the people sporting their boots and cowboy hats just because it's Tuesday. Yes it is more country and more laid back. However, in my opinion it in no way compares to Dallas at all. Not in that Dallas is better by any stretch of the imagination, but that trying to compare the two is like trying to compare apples to oranges. You don't hate the orange because it doesn't taste like an apple. That's just silly. It's kind of the same as trying to compare Austin to Dallas. If Dallas is your old rich Aunt, Austin is your dreadlocked hippie college-aged cousin. You don't love one more than the other, you love and interact with them differently. Maybe you happen to know that despite her big hair and fake boobs your Aunt loves to frequent farmer's markets in her pearls and stilettos and at the same time you wish your cousin had gotten his degree in efficient infrastructure planning instead of skipping class to smoke pot.

When I got here, I hated it. I hated the people, hated the vibe, hated that everyone my age around me seemed to either have it all together or look a whole lot prettier while they were working and playing so much harder than I was. I remember going to the Ghost Bar for a friend's bachelorette party and being completely disgusted. I was supposed to spend the night in the hotel that night and ended up asking Mr. S to pick me up because it was so terrible. Granted, my introduction to Dallas came at a really lonely time in my life - I was engaged and planning a wedding remotely (in Austin) and I was working on and commuting to my first year of graduate school from Arlington to Denton while my fiance lived in Dallas. It was just totally a blur. I was homesick for the hill country and my friends, who were for the most part all still in Austin finishing their degrees and having fun together on a regular basis. Pair all that with a significant other who is more of a homebody to my PLAYPLAYPLAY! nature and boom. Dallas Hater.

Fast-forward to three years ago and meeting Annie. We are both music therapists, foodies, runners, life enthusiasts, we hit it off immediately while volunteering at a grief camp. She had done her internship in Dallas and had spent that time exploring all the culinary, beverage, and breakfast taco delights Dallas had to offer, and when we started working together, we started playing - hanging out at different bars and trying new restaurants. The veil was officially lifted on the previously hidden wonderfulness that Dallas had to offer. Our friendship is definitely in a different season now what with me having a toddler and the whole life-shift that having kids and living in the 'burbs brings but she and I still meet a random restaurants or food trucks that we have hear are great and we scheme our next 5K races and/or restaurant adventures.

While all this was happening, different neighborhoods have enjoyed a gentrification or awesomeing up. Oak Cliff is an absolute gem if a bit of a drive for me, East Dallas is probably the closest to Austin Dallas will ever get, and I'm starting to explore Deep Ellum. More importantly, my very own neighborhood continues to surprise and delight me in different ways every week. The people here are incredible, and I have found and helped foster a really fun and supportive community of parents and kids.  And that's just in my back yard. ON TOP OF THAT there have been city renovations that have caught my eye, namely the new Klyde Warren Park, Perot Museum, the Dallas Museum of Art now offering free admission, and the endless floral enchantment of the Dallas Arboretum. 

 So, there's the background on my idea of writing about why I have come to love Dallas. Mostly because I have found lots of Austin or hill country expats struggling to find their footing in this concrete jungle where big hair and thirty-thousand-dollar millionaires abound. Dallas in fact is all those things you hear about it. The people can be really overly flashy and rude (especially if you're vying for a seat on a patio when the weather is awesome), there's gobs of silicone running around here, and there's a very real disconnect between where people live and where they work, which can lead to never knowing your neighbors and spending a lot of time in the car on highways that never seem to ever be finished with construction. 

But that's not what we're here to talk about. We're here to talk about the side of Dallas that takes some persistent digging to find, that really I didn't get to know until I had a kid and really settled in to knowing who I am and finding/creating my village. Another part of this has been really paying attention to that whole "bloom where you're planted" philosophy or something that I read on an internet meme a week or so ago:

There is no longer any point in hating Dallas because it's where I am right now, and hating it just seems like such a waste of time I could be spending enjoying life.

So buckle up. You're not going to believe the incredible things I have discovered.

Craftology

My favorite local craft store is putting on a competition where you compete to win a schmancy new sewing machine by actually making the things you've pinned on Pinterest. I signed up to do it, but first I had to clean up my mess of a craft room. I'm nowhere near that. but here are some before pictures...

I hadn't finished cleaning the floor OR pulling up the tackboard...so that was my first order of business.

Piles and piles and piles and piles. Ugh.

My manky shelf I'm not quite sure what to do with...I want to replace it but am not quite sure how or with what yet...or that I even want to replace it because I have a tendency to just pile up crap.

I was however given a painting from a dear friend, which wrapped up this wall! So that makes one half of one wall finished. Six more halves to go? The good news is that my sewing table/station is clear and good to go.

This is the pile of stuff I have to mend. So, I started tackling it one piece at a time.

I wear a lot of tights, and just started a new West African dance class, so I decided to patch 'em up...

...in a not-so-subtle manner.

And this is my favorite maxi dress. It ripped, like, two years ago.

So I fixed it!

That's all for now. I've got a ton of projects to wade through, and hopefully I can win this thing!

Pleasantly Surprised

I have to admit - since I had tailored my entire education and experience to work with kids, and since I have quite the knack for the kiddos, I thought working with adults was going to be less than. Less than fulfilling, less than magical, less than challenging.

I was so wrong. 

This past Friday, day 6 into this journey I found myself asking...well..myself, "How many transcendent days can one feasibly have in a row?" Between the blues songwriting and the life histories and the connections to music and the tears shed and the singing of not just the patient but the doctors and nurses through bone marrow aspirations...

I am humbled. And so glad to be back at it.

This week I'll be in San Antonio for our region's annual conference and am looking forward to drum circles and learning and networking and music-making and of course, more drumming.

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.

Back to Life

I've had an interesting week - one of my closest friends had a baby (eeee!) and it's made me look at my own stuff related to my birth, so thankfully I had this blog to look back on and revisit what I wrote about it, and the meager posts that followed. Reading those old entries reminded me of why I keep a blog in the first place - to just work out the stuff in my head, no filters, no judgements.

 I know I wanted to move over to another blog and I tried, but it just never felt right. I also haven't been writing a lot on here 1) because of time and 2) because I was just really, really in a weird spot mentally and 3) I felt really really uncomfortable writing about motherhood. It wasn't until miss A was about a year old that I really started feeling like I had half a clue about what I was doing. I look back on the PPD and what I wrote and regret not writing more - documenting the bad and the ugly but also the good and the sweet and the revelatory awesomeness. I think I quit writing because I felt like I needed to have something positive to write about and just couldn't, and then when I wanted to write I was too exhausted to try and put it all down in a way that was filtered or unsmug or whatever. 

Well, enough of that. I've always been a fan of resolutions and all that, but I think things have gotten a little out of hand for me the last couple years. In some ways I think I was trying to fix or change things because for whatever reason I couldn't see that they were fine and beautiful just the way the were. Even in the darkest parts, even when I felt super embarrassed about no longer working and afraid that I had no idea if I was even truly cut out to be a mom, there was light, and I wish I would've written more about that.

Just the other day I was on the other blog trying to do some crazy 52 weeks of changing things, not being happy with that, and then trying to come up with 52 things to resolve to do this year. What? That's kind of crazy. I have been TERRIBLE at getting out of January with my resolutions, so this year I'm going to just toss all that and resolve just to be authentic, and to be happy.

I am, after all, turning 30 this year.

So, hey. Almost two months is equivalent to an eternity in blog years, amiright?

I'm moving over to another blog, and once I figure out how to do that blog-to-print thing, I'm gonna shut this one down. Thanks for following and commenting and posting along with me. It felt better to start over than to try to reorganize this mess of a life blog.

Join me?

yep.

Okay, people. I am officially going on hiatus. 

Permanently. 

I have been looking around at my life, trying to cut back on the needless things that suck away at either my physical time or my mental time, and every time I even think about blogging, I draw a blank. I'm not one to do things if I don't enjoy doing them (especially when we're talking dishes, right?), and it's not that I don't enjoy blogging, because I do, but there is so much else that I'm enjoying right now that blogging has moved way to the bottom of the list. 

Here's where I'm at:

In this time of endless connectivity I'm finding that I just really want to connect in real and authentic ways, and this blog isn't doing it for me at the moment. I hate talking to people in person and them saying, "Oh yeah I read about that (awesome thing they already know everything about because I wrote about it already) on your blog/facebook/twitter." Maybe this is me being selfish or whatever but, as I saw on a friend's blog or fb or whatever sometime back:  

I am more than my blog. I am more than my facebook page.  

More than that, I want to be more present for myself and for my family, and those times when I take a step back from a moment and try to come up with some witty way to express it on here or on fb kind of...cheapens it somehow. Like the one time I was in the bathroom at a bar with a radio personality who had just had something major happen to her and she was all, "Okay so how am I going to talk about this on the radio tomorrow?" instead of just being in the moment.

 In my personal life, I haven't been able to really put together my thoughts on what I want to say about my life as a mama or my child without being just another mommyblogger. To up the ante, I also happen to have a profession that mandates privacy, which makes blogging about the emotional side of it without being completely obtuse dang near impossible.

To my friends, keep blogging. I love nothing more than keeping up with your lives and travels and interesting awesomeness on your blog or facebook. Know that I will stalk you, and I will be awkward about it. I will also probably call you and send you things, because that's what real people in real relationships do, and I hope you would do the same for me.

Peace out, girl (and boy) scouts. For now, anyway.

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 :)