I appreciate my fellow moms.
I appreciate moms of older/adult children, and all the advice and help they give me.
I appreciate moms who do things a little differently than I do, and the prospective they provide.
I appreciate new moms and the moms-to-be, for reminding me of the wonder of motherhood.
I appreciate moms who are in the same season of life I am. Solidarity, sister.
I appreciate moms who work, whether by choice or by necessity. "Appreciate" really isn't the right word...I respect you guys, a lot. I also appreciate those who stay home. Either choice requires sacrifice and is really hard, in different ways (unless maybe you're a stay-at-home mom with a live-in, full-service nanny. In which case, I really respect your nanny, and I'm super jealous).
I appreciate moms who foster and/or adopt. That takes guts and love and patience, and is amazing.
I appreciate moms who have struggled with infertility, who don't have children or don't have enough children. The desire for a baby is powerfully strong, and to be denied is powerfully difficult.
I appreciate every mom I know. Without every one of you, I don't think I'd be the mom I am. So, thanks. You're the best.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Friday, February 27, 2015
Why #TheDress Actually Matters
I know, I know, it's silly, but I've been fascinated with this whole Dress thing. You know. This one:
The dress, notable only in its' inherent ugliness (sorry, it's ugly) really doesn't matter at all. What I find fascinating is this idea that some people actually see something totally different than other people.
Maybe I'm totally overthinking it, but the idea of perspective is highlighted and exaggerated in this context. There's a lot of psuedo-scientific explanations, and I don't have to give any here, simply that environment, history, angle, and/or some unknown quality, shape the way we see the world in the most literal way, the color we see in the camera photo of a dress.
Imagine how environment and history shape our view of less tangible things? We are often as vehemently sure of an idea as I was that that dang dress was white and gold last night. Politics. Nutrition. Parenting. How much of what we see in the world is really white and gold? How much is blue and black? And how much does it matter?
I think the takeaway is simply that before we offer passionate arguments about the way we see the world, maybe we should remember that the person across from us can see the exact same thing in a totally different way. That seeing is not always believing, and even presenting someone with tangible "proof" of something doesn't necessarily mean they'll see it, or they'll see it the same way. And the way we see the world can change (oh yes, I see that blue now).
#DressGate has become a satire of internet debate, absolute statements, argument, logic and logical fallacy, siblings versus sibling, spouse against spouse, all over a subject that no one is actually invested in emotionally. It puts all internet debate into perspective. And I think it opens up a possibility for a more understanding, less vilifying, conversation on any subject. If we let it.
The dress, notable only in its' inherent ugliness (sorry, it's ugly) really doesn't matter at all. What I find fascinating is this idea that some people actually see something totally different than other people.
Maybe I'm totally overthinking it, but the idea of perspective is highlighted and exaggerated in this context. There's a lot of psuedo-scientific explanations, and I don't have to give any here, simply that environment, history, angle, and/or some unknown quality, shape the way we see the world in the most literal way, the color we see in the camera photo of a dress.
Imagine how environment and history shape our view of less tangible things? We are often as vehemently sure of an idea as I was that that dang dress was white and gold last night. Politics. Nutrition. Parenting. How much of what we see in the world is really white and gold? How much is blue and black? And how much does it matter?
I think the takeaway is simply that before we offer passionate arguments about the way we see the world, maybe we should remember that the person across from us can see the exact same thing in a totally different way. That seeing is not always believing, and even presenting someone with tangible "proof" of something doesn't necessarily mean they'll see it, or they'll see it the same way. And the way we see the world can change (oh yes, I see that blue now).
#DressGate has become a satire of internet debate, absolute statements, argument, logic and logical fallacy, siblings versus sibling, spouse against spouse, all over a subject that no one is actually invested in emotionally. It puts all internet debate into perspective. And I think it opens up a possibility for a more understanding, less vilifying, conversation on any subject. If we let it.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Why I Shop on Thanksgiving, and other Veteran's Day Musings
What you don't realize, getting out of the Army, is that you don't have a lot of practical experience to set you up for success in a civilian field. There are exceptions, of course, but 11B (Infantry) doesn't really make a resume shine. The military has very helpful ways to overcome that, there are government jobs to be had in limited numbers, and, more importantly, the GI Bill which helps cover education costs so a person getting out of the military can get training/education which will qualify them for other jobs.
My husband got out of the Army in 2010 with a wife, two kids, and no real job prospects. Going "back to school" was our only real option, so that's what he did. He got certified as a wind turbine technician in a year, and was hired as a contractor fairly quickly. He liked the work and was making good money, but contracting work is hard (you never know how long you will be in one place, or even how long you will keep the job at all), and being a wind turbine technician is hard physically; in his early 30's, he realized that he simply couldn't climb 200-300 ft ladders for the rest of his working life, and, without any retirement plan or anything, it wasn't a good long term career path.
So, at the beginning of this year, we went back to the drawing board. My husband's dad works as a helicopter mechanic, and that had always appealed to him, so, even though the training/certification would take two years, more than he previously wanted to spend at school, we decided that would be the best path to take. My husband got a part time job at his dad's shop and started school full time. Our income, even with the housing allowance the GI Bill provides, is currently a quarter of what it was this time last year. We are living in the basement apartment at his parent's house. We tell our kids, "no, we can't afford to buy that," a lot.
I don't want to give the wrong impression, I'm actually super grateful for this time, despite the sacrifices. Our "basement apartment" is nicer and bigger than our last house, in a great neighborhood. We have a great relationship with my husband's parents, and being near family has made a difficult year much easier for me after my dad died suddenly in February. Our kids go to an amazing school. And they can walk near the toy section at Target without crying and begging (it's amazing how the less they get, the happier they are with what they have).
That said, we have a budget for this Christmas, down to the dollar, and we would like to get the biggest bang for our buck. Call it "consumerism," but I want to say "yes" to my kids who were told "no" most of this year.
So, here's my specific example. My kids want Disney Infinity 2.0. The cheapest I've seen it so far has been $69.99. Am I willing to spend $70 on my kids for Christmas? Yes. Is it in the budget. Yes. But when Target has it at 6pm on Thanksgiving for $39.99, am I willing to stand in a line to pick it up for them? Heck yeah. That's an extra $30 I can spend on other presents for them. I hear people say, "your kids care more about the time they spend with you than the presents they won't remember." True, I agree with that. But they also won't remember if I sneak out during movie time, post-Thanksgiving dinner. And while I don't remember very many specific presents growing up, I remember the feeling of just being blessed. My family didn't have a lot of money while I was growing up, but I remember getting more than I could imagine, even if I don't remember the specifics. I remember knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my parents sacrificed to show me they loved me. I don't know if love languages are born or bred, but that's mine. And, yes, I remember a Nintendo, Mario Brothers, a bike, modeling clay, a Gameboy, Legends of Zelda, an electronic chess set...I do remember some of the "stuff."
I've been Black Friday shopping for quite a few years. I've also shopped on Thanksgiving the last couple of years. I've gone with various family members, I've gone with my husband when we've had a grandparent willing to watch the kids. We've never pushed or punched or yelled at anyone. We've never been pushed or punched or yelled at. Mostly, we find ourselves surrounded by strangers, hands wrapped around red Starbucks cups, happily full of turkey, happily chatting with their loved ones, happily trying to get the best possible gifts for their kids, grandkids, nieces, nephews, brothers, sisters.... It feels like family, it feels like the beginning of Christmas, to me.
But what about everyone else's family, the people who miss out because they are working? All I know is, if my husband had the choice to work a full day on Thanksgiving Day, he'd take it, in a heart beat. I know that that normally half-day he works on a normal Thursday is money we need, and a full day would help out a lot. We've had to readjust our budget and plan for months, not only to save enough money for Christmas, but to save enough to make up for the hours he's not able to work on Thanksgiving and Christmas, since he doesn't get vacation days. All I know is, when he was deployed over Thanksgiving and Christmas in 2009, we celebrated when he came home in January, and we didn't feel like we missed out.
And, not to be even more anecdotal than I already am, but when I worked at a movie theater, and worked almost every Thanksgiving and Christmas for three years, mom and dad and siblings worked around my work schedule (and I theirs, they often were in the same predicament). Yes, we ate very early or very late Thanksgiving dinners some years. We had a Christmas breakfast rather than Christmas dinner. We made it work. I don't remember anyone getting into a huff about how unfair it was to me, or threatening to boycott movies forever because theaters happened to be open on holidays...people that didn't want to see a movie didn't see a movie. I never really thought it was unfair myself, a day off would've been a day to recover from financially, I would've happily made it work, but it wasn't a big deal either way. That's life.
I think we all have an idea of what a perfect Thanksgiving holiday looks like. For some people, it's food and family and nothing else. For some people it's food and family and shopping. For some people it's food and family and a movie. For some people it's just the family. For some people it's just the food. For some people it's just the movie. For some people, it's the Star Trek movie marathon on Syfy. For me, I love ending a day of cooking, drinking, eating, and playing, by bringing home a pile of Christmas presents to wrap. Maybe it's because I'm a #basic consumer with #firstworldproblems. If that's what you want to think of all Thanksgiving shoppers, don't let me be the one to change your mind.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mother's Day
There's a lot of stuff making the rounds 'round the net this week about moms. Mostly, they say in different language and with different examples all the ways moms are awesome, which is absolutely true.
So, I'm not going to tell you all the ways moms are awesome, even though they are, that horse has been beat to death. What I'm going to tell you about is pregnancy.
The funny thing about being pregnant is that there's really no metaphor for what it's like...I know, I've been trying to think of one. The closest thing I can come up with is it's sort of like running a very long race and the finish line is coming up and you can't take a break or do anything (natural) to slow down, change your course, or stop the race. And, right before the finish line is painful, and afterwards, is the best prize ever. And, of course the entire time, there's the dread of the pain fighting the desire to see the prize, on top of the apprehension, excitement, fear of the unknown and what-could-go-wrong, and the fantasy about what it will be like. All these increase the closer you get to the finish line.
No wonder not even quite halfway through this pregnancy (my third), I'm already having sleepless nights. As much as we try not to think about it, it's impossible not to dread and hope and plan. In fact, I think it's even normal...though, in my experience so far, the things that I fear are rarely the bad things that happen, though bad things do happen. And the things that I think I will have a handle on I usually don't.
So, to all you expectant moms, with all the emotion and thoughts and hormones making you feel like one minute you wish you could could put the breaks on the crazy train you're on, and the next so overwhelmed with expectation that you wish you could just skip over to the love and the cuddles and the sniffing the tiny baby head (or am I the only one that stays awake thinking about that?), Happy Mother's Day. Especially if it's your first, you may not even feel like a mother yet, but you are experiencing a unique and limited moment in motherhood, nurturing, protecting, worrying about and loving your baby as much as any mother does.
So, I'm not going to tell you all the ways moms are awesome, even though they are, that horse has been beat to death. What I'm going to tell you about is pregnancy.
The funny thing about being pregnant is that there's really no metaphor for what it's like...I know, I've been trying to think of one. The closest thing I can come up with is it's sort of like running a very long race and the finish line is coming up and you can't take a break or do anything (natural) to slow down, change your course, or stop the race. And, right before the finish line is painful, and afterwards, is the best prize ever. And, of course the entire time, there's the dread of the pain fighting the desire to see the prize, on top of the apprehension, excitement, fear of the unknown and what-could-go-wrong, and the fantasy about what it will be like. All these increase the closer you get to the finish line.
No wonder not even quite halfway through this pregnancy (my third), I'm already having sleepless nights. As much as we try not to think about it, it's impossible not to dread and hope and plan. In fact, I think it's even normal...though, in my experience so far, the things that I fear are rarely the bad things that happen, though bad things do happen. And the things that I think I will have a handle on I usually don't.
So, to all you expectant moms, with all the emotion and thoughts and hormones making you feel like one minute you wish you could could put the breaks on the crazy train you're on, and the next so overwhelmed with expectation that you wish you could just skip over to the love and the cuddles and the sniffing the tiny baby head (or am I the only one that stays awake thinking about that?), Happy Mother's Day. Especially if it's your first, you may not even feel like a mother yet, but you are experiencing a unique and limited moment in motherhood, nurturing, protecting, worrying about and loving your baby as much as any mother does.
Friday, April 5, 2013
The Tyrant
Does this look like the face of oppression to you?
Because he is. The tyrannical ruler of Sam's bedroom.
The last few days, toys, mostly but not limited to stuffed animals, started making their way out of Sam's bedroom and into the hallway or my bedroom or Jubilee's bedroom or downstairs. I tell Sam to clean them up, and he does somewhat, but I still find them in odd places, even the bathroom or hiding in the closets.
This morning, at around 6am, Sam came into my bedroom carrying an armful of stuffed animals, including his favorite bear and a stuffed Wall-e. He dumped them on the floor next to my bed, and walked away, presumably to get even more toys. Of course, at 6am, I was half asleep, so I mutter, "Sam, what are you doing?"
"Bringing my animals."
"Why? They go in your room."
"Puppy is angry at the animals."
"Wha...?"
So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't know what the other toys in Sam's room did wrong, all I know is, they are in Puppy's bad graces.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Facebook 101 (for moms)
We've all seen them, the 10-most-annoying-people-on-Facebook lists, with moms being on the top of the list, beating out even duckface teen girls and vague whiners ("My life is over!"). With the invention of unbaby.me in particular, I found myself feeling rather self-conscious every time I wanted to share something silly my kid did, or post yet another picture of them eating bacon.
I've decided to stop feeling weird about it, though, because I stinkin' love baby pictures. In fact, that's sort of a general thing across the board, I want to share the things the people I care about love. Babies, a well-cooked meal, an awesome vacation, any of the stereotypical "annoying" things, if it's someone I genuinely care about, of course I want to see it. Why wouldn't I? Thus, I have to assume that the people I care about feel the same way about me and my kids.
I think the problem has less to do with over sharing than over friending. Do I necessarily care that a person I barely knew in my math class in 2nd grade had a kid? Not really. Do I want to see an endless stream of pictures of that baby? Nope.
My niece, on the other hand? Post those stinkin' pictures! I want to see every smeared avocado and walk in the park and haircut.
My friends, I love to read about the funny thing your kid said. I want to know that they're finally going potty 95% of the time. I want to know that they love graham crackers. I want to know that they slept through the night for the first (or second, or third, or fifteenth) time. I want to know that they came down with the sniffles. I want to know...if I didn't want to know, I'd be a friendly acquaintance at best, not a friend.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you're a mom, don't worry about being annoying. Share what you love, with the people you love.
Besides, we're moms. I don't know about you, but I don't have enough energy to make sure everyone eats enough veggies, vacuum the floor, AND play pirate treasure, so why bother wasting energy trying to maintain my "cool?" It's just not practical.
That's no excuse to wear mom jeans, though.
If you're annoyed with someone's baby's pictures, unfriend them. If you don't care enough to be joyful in a person's exuberance over the person they created, you don't really like them that much anyway. I'm not saying that to be mean, it's perfectly okay to realize that you don't value the same things that someone else values.
So, here are my quick rules for Facebook for Moms:
1) Focus on quality, not quantity, in all areas of Facebook. This includes paring down friends to people you are actually friends with and care about. You might also think about not posting twenty fuzzy baby pictures that look exactly the same, pick out the best few. And your description of your kid's poop better be funny enough to justify the gross factor.
That's it. That's the rule(s). You're welcome.
I've decided to stop feeling weird about it, though, because I stinkin' love baby pictures. In fact, that's sort of a general thing across the board, I want to share the things the people I care about love. Babies, a well-cooked meal, an awesome vacation, any of the stereotypical "annoying" things, if it's someone I genuinely care about, of course I want to see it. Why wouldn't I? Thus, I have to assume that the people I care about feel the same way about me and my kids.
I think the problem has less to do with over sharing than over friending. Do I necessarily care that a person I barely knew in my math class in 2nd grade had a kid? Not really. Do I want to see an endless stream of pictures of that baby? Nope.
My niece, on the other hand? Post those stinkin' pictures! I want to see every smeared avocado and walk in the park and haircut.
My friends, I love to read about the funny thing your kid said. I want to know that they're finally going potty 95% of the time. I want to know that they love graham crackers. I want to know that they slept through the night for the first (or second, or third, or fifteenth) time. I want to know that they came down with the sniffles. I want to know...if I didn't want to know, I'd be a friendly acquaintance at best, not a friend.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you're a mom, don't worry about being annoying. Share what you love, with the people you love.
Besides, we're moms. I don't know about you, but I don't have enough energy to make sure everyone eats enough veggies, vacuum the floor, AND play pirate treasure, so why bother wasting energy trying to maintain my "cool?" It's just not practical.
That's no excuse to wear mom jeans, though.
If you're annoyed with someone's baby's pictures, unfriend them. If you don't care enough to be joyful in a person's exuberance over the person they created, you don't really like them that much anyway. I'm not saying that to be mean, it's perfectly okay to realize that you don't value the same things that someone else values.
So, here are my quick rules for Facebook for Moms:
1) Focus on quality, not quantity, in all areas of Facebook. This includes paring down friends to people you are actually friends with and care about. You might also think about not posting twenty fuzzy baby pictures that look exactly the same, pick out the best few. And your description of your kid's poop better be funny enough to justify the gross factor.
That's it. That's the rule(s). You're welcome.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
10/08
When I was a sophomore in high school, I had a geography class that let out at 10:08. Don't ask me why I remember that, I don't remember when any of my other classes let out that year or in the years preceding or following. It wasn't such an awful class that I stared at the clock waiting for it to be over, either, or such a great class I dreaded it being over. It's just a mystery.
Since then, I've noticed that 10:08 is used a lot in clock and watch advertisements, and very time I see it, I think, "hey, geography is over."
Since then, I've noticed that 10:08 is used a lot in clock and watch advertisements, and very time I see it, I think, "hey, geography is over."
It actually makes me happy, when I check my clock and that's what it says. I also have a vague feeling of expectation, like something should happen, every 10/08. Again, I don't know why. I'm not one of those people who reads secret meanings or conspiracies into stuff like that, and I'm not checking the 10th chapter and 8th verse of every book in the Bible. I think it's just a weird thing that stuck in my brain and won't get out.
But this year, I really do have something to look forward to on October 8th. That's the due date of baby #3!
Of course, if little baby fuzzy blob takes after his/her siblings at all, he/she won't be born until a week or two after that, but that's okay. It just gives us more time to squeeze in my favorite fall things, like picking apples and visiting a pumpkin patch, before baby fuzzy blob is born. It's gonna be an awesome fall!
But first, we have to get to that point. Someone remind me that someday, relatively soon, I will be able to eat real food again.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Just A Little Bit Of Perspective
I don't know if you've noticed this, but haven't been online much, on FB or this blog or pinterest or anything really. There are a few reasons for this:
1. Sitting down in front of my computer makes me sleepy and queasy. Seriously. It's easier to sit in front of the tv, or lay down with a book when my kids are in school or otherwise occupied (thank heaven for Disney Junior).
2. I'm actually still online, I'm just quietly stalking everyone. Mwahahahaha. Not seriously.
3. I feel even more isolated than usual every time I read about my friends in other states hanging out with other people.
4. I don't really have much to say right now, at least not complain-y stuff. I could fill whole books with "gah, I hate morning sickness (or as I liked to call it, all-day sickness)," or "I'm so tired," or "I'm so cold," or "emotions are dummy dumb dumb faces (giggle, sob)," or "is there any chance I'll stop craving Chocolate Malt Ovaltine any time soon?" but that would be boring, so I'm trying not to do it. I think I'm still doing it more than I should, but I'm trying to suck it up. Haha.
The thing is, when you walk around in an exhausted haze all day, are unable to eat anything but "white" food (white flour, sugar, potatoes, milk, etc), and are freezing all day long, it's hard to take a step back and "be joyful." But the reality is, despite how miserable and tired I feel physically, I'm actually really happy. I feel relatively content with where we are and what we are doing. I'm super happy with our family dynamic and our belongings and lifestyle.
There are parts of my life that I truly believe couldn't get much better, and those are the parts that really matter. For instance, my super sweet, supportive husband, who doesn't seem to mind that we've been eating mostly PB&J or cereal for dinner for over a week now and that the house is starting to look like it's been in a tornado's path. He also brings me Häagen-Dazs every time he goes to the store (that, ladies, is what you call a keeper).
Or, my awesome kids, who think everything is hilarious, and know innately that life is an adventure. They definitely don't mind the PB&J or cereal for dinner, they are grateful for a temporary reprieve from my culinary experiments.
Plus, no matter how isolated or lonely I feel, I only have to drive 5 minutes in nearly any direction to see something this, which sort of puts everything into perspective for me.
It's also nice knowing that all my sleeplessness at night, exhaustion by day, food aversions, food cravings, random crying, random crazy laughing, is all for a purpose. A great purpose, too, we're going to have another kid who thinks everything is hilarious, and knows innately that life is an adventure. It's going to be worth it, it's already worth it...I wouldn't trade my physical misery for anything.
Hey, and at least it's temporary. Soon, the morning sickness will be over, and even more sleepiness nights will kick in as my hormones go even crazier and my body gets weird and hippo-y. And then I'll start craving Popeye's spicy chicken sandwiches and toasted ravioli. And then the horrible rib pain and leg cramps and the peeing every 2 minutes...followed by giving birth (shudder)...and then as my hormones finally relax enough for me to be able to fall and stay asleep, I'll have a baby to take over as my tiny, crazy, frequent alarm clock. But at least he/she will be cute, awesome, and worth it! That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.
1. Sitting down in front of my computer makes me sleepy and queasy. Seriously. It's easier to sit in front of the tv, or lay down with a book when my kids are in school or otherwise occupied (thank heaven for Disney Junior).
2. I'm actually still online, I'm just quietly stalking everyone. Mwahahahaha. Not seriously.
3. I feel even more isolated than usual every time I read about my friends in other states hanging out with other people.
4. I don't really have much to say right now, at least not complain-y stuff. I could fill whole books with "gah, I hate morning sickness (or as I liked to call it, all-day sickness)," or "I'm so tired," or "I'm so cold," or "emotions are dummy dumb dumb faces (giggle, sob)," or "is there any chance I'll stop craving Chocolate Malt Ovaltine any time soon?" but that would be boring, so I'm trying not to do it. I think I'm still doing it more than I should, but I'm trying to suck it up. Haha.
 |
| Rich, chocolately Ovaltine |
There are parts of my life that I truly believe couldn't get much better, and those are the parts that really matter. For instance, my super sweet, supportive husband, who doesn't seem to mind that we've been eating mostly PB&J or cereal for dinner for over a week now and that the house is starting to look like it's been in a tornado's path. He also brings me Häagen-Dazs every time he goes to the store (that, ladies, is what you call a keeper).
Or, my awesome kids, who think everything is hilarious, and know innately that life is an adventure. They definitely don't mind the PB&J or cereal for dinner, they are grateful for a temporary reprieve from my culinary experiments.
Plus, no matter how isolated or lonely I feel, I only have to drive 5 minutes in nearly any direction to see something this, which sort of puts everything into perspective for me.
It's also nice knowing that all my sleeplessness at night, exhaustion by day, food aversions, food cravings, random crying, random crazy laughing, is all for a purpose. A great purpose, too, we're going to have another kid who thinks everything is hilarious, and knows innately that life is an adventure. It's going to be worth it, it's already worth it...I wouldn't trade my physical misery for anything.
Hey, and at least it's temporary. Soon, the morning sickness will be over, and even more sleepiness nights will kick in as my hormones go even crazier and my body gets weird and hippo-y. And then I'll start craving Popeye's spicy chicken sandwiches and toasted ravioli. And then the horrible rib pain and leg cramps and the peeing every 2 minutes...followed by giving birth (shudder)...and then as my hormones finally relax enough for me to be able to fall and stay asleep, I'll have a baby to take over as my tiny, crazy, frequent alarm clock. But at least he/she will be cute, awesome, and worth it! That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
An Announcement
Since 90% of my 10 readers are also friends of mine on facebook, this is going to come as no huge shock, but here it goes: our household size is about to go from just under the national average to just above it. Exciting, right? We're excited.
It's kind of hard planning for a third kid. The other two were so close together and so chaotic it feels more like I've only had one pregnancy that lasted 23 months and resulted in Irish twins. I had a lot of hand-me-downs, and like most brand new moms, a large amount of have-to-have baby gear. This time, though, I sort of have an idea of what gear I actually use (very little), so there's much less planning. Before, nine months didn't seem long enough to get everything ready for the kid, now, I'm pretty sure I could have everything I need in one trip to Target.
If any of you are on the fence about increasing your family size, I gotta say, I suggest it. Yeah, pregnancy still isn't fun, and I'm sure birth won't be fun and the sleepless nights won't be fun, but already this baby is less stressful than the other two were. I've stopped reading mommy blogs totally, not because I hate them, just because I no longer feel like I need mommy validation. Is that weird...that the more kids I have, the less freaked out I am about screwing them up? Probably, but that's okay. I think it's because now I have enough perspective to see how much I've already screwed up, and my kids are still happy, generally healthy, and on their way to being productive members of society.
Not to say there aren't stressors in my life. I'm pretty dang freaked out about living here in Wyoming so far from all my family and friends. I wish I lived in a place where I knew some people well enough to get a casserole or three delivered after the baby comes. My husband's job here isn't very stable anyway, he gets paid pretty well and he loves his work, but the company he works for could move him at any time to any part of the country. Having moved both 8 months pregnant (with Sam) and 1 week after giving birth (with Jubilee), the prospect of doing it again does not sound pleasant at all.
Anyway, a favor. If you think about it, send up a few prayers for us. Yes, stability, a house and a few friends would be awesome, but mostly I think we just need peace that it's all going to work out, and we need some perspective. Even if we have to move within a month before or after giving birth, it's not the end of the world, we've done it twice already. Even if we have to order pizza for a week after the baby comes, we can do that. It's going to be okay, I know that in my head, I just wish I knew it in my heart.
It's kind of hard planning for a third kid. The other two were so close together and so chaotic it feels more like I've only had one pregnancy that lasted 23 months and resulted in Irish twins. I had a lot of hand-me-downs, and like most brand new moms, a large amount of have-to-have baby gear. This time, though, I sort of have an idea of what gear I actually use (very little), so there's much less planning. Before, nine months didn't seem long enough to get everything ready for the kid, now, I'm pretty sure I could have everything I need in one trip to Target.
If any of you are on the fence about increasing your family size, I gotta say, I suggest it. Yeah, pregnancy still isn't fun, and I'm sure birth won't be fun and the sleepless nights won't be fun, but already this baby is less stressful than the other two were. I've stopped reading mommy blogs totally, not because I hate them, just because I no longer feel like I need mommy validation. Is that weird...that the more kids I have, the less freaked out I am about screwing them up? Probably, but that's okay. I think it's because now I have enough perspective to see how much I've already screwed up, and my kids are still happy, generally healthy, and on their way to being productive members of society.
Not to say there aren't stressors in my life. I'm pretty dang freaked out about living here in Wyoming so far from all my family and friends. I wish I lived in a place where I knew some people well enough to get a casserole or three delivered after the baby comes. My husband's job here isn't very stable anyway, he gets paid pretty well and he loves his work, but the company he works for could move him at any time to any part of the country. Having moved both 8 months pregnant (with Sam) and 1 week after giving birth (with Jubilee), the prospect of doing it again does not sound pleasant at all.
Anyway, a favor. If you think about it, send up a few prayers for us. Yes, stability, a house and a few friends would be awesome, but mostly I think we just need peace that it's all going to work out, and we need some perspective. Even if we have to move within a month before or after giving birth, it's not the end of the world, we've done it twice already. Even if we have to order pizza for a week after the baby comes, we can do that. It's going to be okay, I know that in my head, I just wish I knew it in my heart.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Whole30 Update
I am officially a week and a half into a Whole30.
No matter how often I read that feeling crappy while detoxing or dieting is "normal" and you should work through the pain, I still can't escape the feeling that if you're feeling awful physically and emotionally you should do something to remedy it. Eat a cookie or something, especially if you're a mom of small children. As a result, I was very hesitant starting this. I'd rather be a little chubby than spend any time miserable on purpose, that's the long and the short of it. But, I really was getting to the point where something needed to change, and this was the step I decided to take. I'm pleased to inform everyone that I haven't had any emotional or physical problems (and I'm past the time when they should've started). I haven't had any sugar "crash" or horrible cravings or anything that I was afraid of happening. Which seems a pretty good indication that this is actually a healthy diet, unlike things like no carbs or no fat or drinking nothing but apple cider vinegar for a week, I actually feel really good right now.
One of the big rules of the Whole30 is NO WEIGH INS for the whole month. Because it's a diet primarily to get healthier and wean ourselves off of toxic foods and sugar, fat loss shouldn't be the goal. The lack of a scale allows us to focus on the other positives the diet is doing for us, and it really works. I notice my clothes fitting looser (hubs told me he thought my clothes were getting stretched out or something, because they were looking too baggy, haha, thanks a lot hubs). My mom (who is also doing it) cheated and weighed herself. She's lost 7lbs so far. Because of my mom's bad example (tisk tisk, mom), I cheated and weighed myself, too, I've lost 5lbs. Not too shabby, enough that I'm encouraged, not so much that it's unhealthy or hard to maintain.
I also have a LOT of energy, which is good and bad. My house has never been cleaner, but I don't have a lot of patience sitting down writing blogs or watching a movie with my husband, I always feel like I need to be doing something.
My face is clearer than it's been since we moved to Wyoming. I don't know what it is, I assume it's the lack of humidity, but my face has been broken out since we moved here. Now, though, it's completely clear. Which is super nice.
Plus, I'm learning quickly how to NOT be a stress eater. There have been parts of this week where normally I would've turned to a brownie or a cheeseburger to destress, but I didn't. And the desire is going away, noticeably.
My mom's favorite part of this diet is that food actually starts to taste better. When you aren't eating sugar, you really begin to notice the natural sweetness of a lot of different vegetables and even meats. Fruit becomes satisfying. Food also becomes more deliberate, I don't find myself absent-mindedly snacking anymore. It's nice, though meal planning takes a little more forethought, and it's nearly impossible to get take-out.
Anyway, that's my 1/3 done update. The end.
No matter how often I read that feeling crappy while detoxing or dieting is "normal" and you should work through the pain, I still can't escape the feeling that if you're feeling awful physically and emotionally you should do something to remedy it. Eat a cookie or something, especially if you're a mom of small children. As a result, I was very hesitant starting this. I'd rather be a little chubby than spend any time miserable on purpose, that's the long and the short of it. But, I really was getting to the point where something needed to change, and this was the step I decided to take. I'm pleased to inform everyone that I haven't had any emotional or physical problems (and I'm past the time when they should've started). I haven't had any sugar "crash" or horrible cravings or anything that I was afraid of happening. Which seems a pretty good indication that this is actually a healthy diet, unlike things like no carbs or no fat or drinking nothing but apple cider vinegar for a week, I actually feel really good right now.
One of the big rules of the Whole30 is NO WEIGH INS for the whole month. Because it's a diet primarily to get healthier and wean ourselves off of toxic foods and sugar, fat loss shouldn't be the goal. The lack of a scale allows us to focus on the other positives the diet is doing for us, and it really works. I notice my clothes fitting looser (hubs told me he thought my clothes were getting stretched out or something, because they were looking too baggy, haha, thanks a lot hubs). My mom (who is also doing it) cheated and weighed herself. She's lost 7lbs so far. Because of my mom's bad example (tisk tisk, mom), I cheated and weighed myself, too, I've lost 5lbs. Not too shabby, enough that I'm encouraged, not so much that it's unhealthy or hard to maintain.
I also have a LOT of energy, which is good and bad. My house has never been cleaner, but I don't have a lot of patience sitting down writing blogs or watching a movie with my husband, I always feel like I need to be doing something.
My face is clearer than it's been since we moved to Wyoming. I don't know what it is, I assume it's the lack of humidity, but my face has been broken out since we moved here. Now, though, it's completely clear. Which is super nice.
Plus, I'm learning quickly how to NOT be a stress eater. There have been parts of this week where normally I would've turned to a brownie or a cheeseburger to destress, but I didn't. And the desire is going away, noticeably.
My mom's favorite part of this diet is that food actually starts to taste better. When you aren't eating sugar, you really begin to notice the natural sweetness of a lot of different vegetables and even meats. Fruit becomes satisfying. Food also becomes more deliberate, I don't find myself absent-mindedly snacking anymore. It's nice, though meal planning takes a little more forethought, and it's nearly impossible to get take-out.
Anyway, that's my 1/3 done update. The end.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Wordless Wednesday
I don't often fall into the schtick of alliterating the titles of my blog posts to fit a popular theme, but the pictures really do speak for themselves. This is what we did yesterday, after Cam got off work a few hours early:
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
My Budding Photographer
As I'm sure you all already know, I'm one of those Instagram moms. I know, I know, Instagram is supposed to be for hipsters to take close-up pictures of decaying architecture and cool thrift store finds, but, not being a hipster, I like to use it to share pictures of my kids and food. Housewife Instagram users are in the minority, but we're a strong minority.
Since my phone is with me everywhere I go, I find I take a lot of pictures, mostly of my kids, as I said, or of my kids and husband, or whatever. I don't have a lot of pictures of me, though, because I'm the one behind the camera. Since my 5 year-old loves to play on my phone, about a week ago I had the bright idea of letting him take pictures of me.
He's actually hilarious. He points the camera in my general direction, and yells "click, click, click...!" as fast as he can, while pushing the button as fast as he can. So, after 30 seconds, I have 50 pictures or so, and out of those, I find one or two that aren't fuzzy and upload them to Instagram. So, here are a few he's taken recently:
So, there. Photographic evidence I exist.
I was just thinking, wouldn't it be funny if Sam wound up being a wedding photographer? "Can we get just the bride with her bridesmaids? CLICK click click click! Now, the whole wedding party? Click click click...."
Since my phone is with me everywhere I go, I find I take a lot of pictures, mostly of my kids, as I said, or of my kids and husband, or whatever. I don't have a lot of pictures of me, though, because I'm the one behind the camera. Since my 5 year-old loves to play on my phone, about a week ago I had the bright idea of letting him take pictures of me.
He's actually hilarious. He points the camera in my general direction, and yells "click, click, click...!" as fast as he can, while pushing the button as fast as he can. So, after 30 seconds, I have 50 pictures or so, and out of those, I find one or two that aren't fuzzy and upload them to Instagram. So, here are a few he's taken recently:
And my favorite...
I was just thinking, wouldn't it be funny if Sam wound up being a wedding photographer? "Can we get just the bride with her bridesmaids? CLICK click click click! Now, the whole wedding party? Click click click...."
Monday, January 7, 2013
Yet Another Post About Mom Guilt
As I mentioned the other day, I'm doing a 30 day dietary "reset," I'm about 20% done with it, actually. It's going surprising well so far, at least where eating is concerned, not a lot of cravings, in fact, the diet it's a lot easier than I thought it would be and I have a lot of support. The hardest thing about it is, I'm sure you guessed by the title, mom guilt.
At first, it's sort of hard to imagine why simply cutting a few items out of one's diet would be enough to convince a person that they are a horrible mom. But, if you've ever done it, you know you spend a LOT of time thinking about what you can't eat. And if you've cut a major staple like meat or, in my case, grains out of your diet, you spend a LOT of time trying to come up with new recipes...chunks of meat with veggies loses its' appeal, sooner rather than later. Plus, actually having to cook three meals a day when you can't just pour a bowl of cereal or make a sandwich is time consuming, especially since there's not a lot of nitrate, msg, sugar, grain-free meat and veggie "convenience items." Dieting really is consuming, mentally, emotionally, and chronologically. And the first thing a mom feels, when consumed by the thought of something other than her wee bairns, is guilt.
It's also hard on the kids. If you're used to eating sugar, not eating sugar can make you crabby, that's all I'm gonna say about that. On my particular diet I can drink coffee, but if you've ever tried not drinking coffee, you know that your attitude can weigh on your kids, too. Also, suddenly, the way your kids are used to eating changes, and they don't really like it. Either they have to eat your "diet" food, in my case means a lot of veggies and a lot of spice a lot of the time, which they won't eat enough of to sustain them for very long, or a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches which really isn't a well-balanced diet. More mom guilt.
Anyway, it's funny to realize that the thing that hinders me most is feeling like I'm letting down my kids in some way, by trying to get healthier. But, it's really about short term goals vs. long term goals. No, I don't want to be snappy today, but if they have to deal with me being a little withdrawn now so that I can be healthy overall, it's worth it. I think it's worth it.
At first, it's sort of hard to imagine why simply cutting a few items out of one's diet would be enough to convince a person that they are a horrible mom. But, if you've ever done it, you know you spend a LOT of time thinking about what you can't eat. And if you've cut a major staple like meat or, in my case, grains out of your diet, you spend a LOT of time trying to come up with new recipes...chunks of meat with veggies loses its' appeal, sooner rather than later. Plus, actually having to cook three meals a day when you can't just pour a bowl of cereal or make a sandwich is time consuming, especially since there's not a lot of nitrate, msg, sugar, grain-free meat and veggie "convenience items." Dieting really is consuming, mentally, emotionally, and chronologically. And the first thing a mom feels, when consumed by the thought of something other than her wee bairns, is guilt.
It's also hard on the kids. If you're used to eating sugar, not eating sugar can make you crabby, that's all I'm gonna say about that. On my particular diet I can drink coffee, but if you've ever tried not drinking coffee, you know that your attitude can weigh on your kids, too. Also, suddenly, the way your kids are used to eating changes, and they don't really like it. Either they have to eat your "diet" food, in my case means a lot of veggies and a lot of spice a lot of the time, which they won't eat enough of to sustain them for very long, or a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches which really isn't a well-balanced diet. More mom guilt.
Anyway, it's funny to realize that the thing that hinders me most is feeling like I'm letting down my kids in some way, by trying to get healthier. But, it's really about short term goals vs. long term goals. No, I don't want to be snappy today, but if they have to deal with me being a little withdrawn now so that I can be healthy overall, it's worth it. I think it's worth it.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Happy New Year!
Well, I'm a few days late, but happy New Year anyway. We're at the end of the first semi-normal, no sickness, almost non-holiday week we've had in a while. The kids started back at school, and hubs worked more than 40 hours, so we're starting to drift back into our routine. I realized after a week of Jubee being sick, then a week of Sam and me being sick, then Cam being sick, on top of travelling to Missouri for a quick, whirlwind Christmas visit, we really needed our real routine. A routine that didn't involve watching cartoons all day long (like we did when we had the plague) or punching one another (which the kids seem to have gotten in the bad habit of doing) or eating incredible amounts of sugar and processed grains.
Today, I turned off the tv. It's been going better than anticipated. Usually, when I realize that too-much-tv watching has snuck up on us and I turn it off, we spend a week in the throws of withdraw, whiny kids begging to watch cartoons every five minutes, until they get used to it. Today, though, they are playing happily together. Which is awesome because...
Jan 2nd, I started a Whole30. I do need to lose some weight, but I'm actually doing it not primarily to lose weight, rather, to detox a bit off of sugar and bread and beer so I can lose weight. I actually eat pretty well generally and I move around quite a bit, so I think that my extra weight is a consequence of eating horribly from the age of 15-25 and hormones, plus I'm a 30-year old woman who had two kids 14 months apart, which, as you probably know, isn't very good for your gut.
This is the picture of myself from Christmas present opening at my sister's house that convinced me that I needed to do something. I normally wouldn't put a picture of myself online like this, but this is the motivation I need. When, in a week or two, this becomes hard and I want a brownie or an IPA, I have something to deter me. Haha.
So, I'm about 2.5 days into eating nothing but meat, eggs, veggies, fruits, good fats and oils, and nuts. I can have coffee, which makes it a whole lot easier, nay, possible. I haven't even had any food cravings or urges to speak of yet, and I'm not lethargic or stressed, which is what usually happens by the first afternoon when I restrict my diet in any way.
Cam's job is going really well, too. His supervisors like him, he likes his work, and we are really blessed financially because of it. That's pretty much the best you can hope for less than a year into a new career.
That's our beginning of 2013. We're starting it happy, healthy and hopeful, which is means it can only go downhill from here. Haha, I'm totally kidding. If there's one thing that's been pretty consistent my whole adult life, it's that just when I think things can't get better, they do. That doesn't mean that rough things don't happen, it's just that they don't seem so bad in the broad scheme o' things.
Today, I turned off the tv. It's been going better than anticipated. Usually, when I realize that too-much-tv watching has snuck up on us and I turn it off, we spend a week in the throws of withdraw, whiny kids begging to watch cartoons every five minutes, until they get used to it. Today, though, they are playing happily together. Which is awesome because...
Jan 2nd, I started a Whole30. I do need to lose some weight, but I'm actually doing it not primarily to lose weight, rather, to detox a bit off of sugar and bread and beer so I can lose weight. I actually eat pretty well generally and I move around quite a bit, so I think that my extra weight is a consequence of eating horribly from the age of 15-25 and hormones, plus I'm a 30-year old woman who had two kids 14 months apart, which, as you probably know, isn't very good for your gut.
This is the picture of myself from Christmas present opening at my sister's house that convinced me that I needed to do something. I normally wouldn't put a picture of myself online like this, but this is the motivation I need. When, in a week or two, this becomes hard and I want a brownie or an IPA, I have something to deter me. Haha.
So, I'm about 2.5 days into eating nothing but meat, eggs, veggies, fruits, good fats and oils, and nuts. I can have coffee, which makes it a whole lot easier, nay, possible. I haven't even had any food cravings or urges to speak of yet, and I'm not lethargic or stressed, which is what usually happens by the first afternoon when I restrict my diet in any way.
Cam's job is going really well, too. His supervisors like him, he likes his work, and we are really blessed financially because of it. That's pretty much the best you can hope for less than a year into a new career.
That's our beginning of 2013. We're starting it happy, healthy and hopeful, which is means it can only go downhill from here. Haha, I'm totally kidding. If there's one thing that's been pretty consistent my whole adult life, it's that just when I think things can't get better, they do. That doesn't mean that rough things don't happen, it's just that they don't seem so bad in the broad scheme o' things.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Today
Today marks two milestones in the history of me. First, this is my 100th blog post right here. Second, today is my 8th wedding anniversary (and my husband's, but I guess that goes without saying). There is a .2% chance my husband will read this blog post, but I thought I'd write a few things about him anyway.
You know those old song lyrics that go "I love you more today than yesterday?" I've heard a million different versions of that, but I'm not sure I believe it. I look at this picture, and realize that on that day 8 years ago my heart was so full of love for that man that I don't think what I feel today is in excess of that.
What I do know is that after 8 years of marriage, the love I feel for him is deeper, stronger, and more grounded in a respect for his character. I don't think I love him more, but I think I love him better.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm extremely blessed. We got married 5 months to the day after we met, and for many people that would've been disastrous. I wouldn't suggest it, generally. If he had been anyone other than who he is, if his unwavering love for family and God had been less that what it is, if his work ethic had been more typical of his generation, if his character had been less what what I expected, after the wedding would have been a terrible time to discover those things. Instead, I've found that he is so much more than what I expected.
His primary goal is to make the best possible home for our family, to protect us and take care of us and to be the best man, husband, and father he can be. No amount of nagging, fighting, cajoling or ignoring could've have turned him into that, it's just how he is. I think I may have had an inkling of that 8 years ago today, but I didn't know the depth of it.
I think marriage should be a partnership in which both parties look out for the well being of the other 100%, reserving nothing and holding nothing back for themselves. Sometimes we take each other for granted, it's easy to do that when you know the other person has your best interest at heart no matter what, but today, at least, I'm not taking it for granted. I'm letting the world (or at least the 20 people who read my blog) know that my husband loves me and I love him. And I don't expect that will ever change.
You know those old song lyrics that go "I love you more today than yesterday?" I've heard a million different versions of that, but I'm not sure I believe it. I look at this picture, and realize that on that day 8 years ago my heart was so full of love for that man that I don't think what I feel today is in excess of that.
What I do know is that after 8 years of marriage, the love I feel for him is deeper, stronger, and more grounded in a respect for his character. I don't think I love him more, but I think I love him better.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm extremely blessed. We got married 5 months to the day after we met, and for many people that would've been disastrous. I wouldn't suggest it, generally. If he had been anyone other than who he is, if his unwavering love for family and God had been less that what it is, if his work ethic had been more typical of his generation, if his character had been less what what I expected, after the wedding would have been a terrible time to discover those things. Instead, I've found that he is so much more than what I expected.
His primary goal is to make the best possible home for our family, to protect us and take care of us and to be the best man, husband, and father he can be. No amount of nagging, fighting, cajoling or ignoring could've have turned him into that, it's just how he is. I think I may have had an inkling of that 8 years ago today, but I didn't know the depth of it.
I think marriage should be a partnership in which both parties look out for the well being of the other 100%, reserving nothing and holding nothing back for themselves. Sometimes we take each other for granted, it's easy to do that when you know the other person has your best interest at heart no matter what, but today, at least, I'm not taking it for granted. I'm letting the world (or at least the 20 people who read my blog) know that my husband loves me and I love him. And I don't expect that will ever change.
Friday, December 21, 2012
My Advice
I don't give a lot of advice here. I figure, it took me 30 years to figure a few things out, and I'll probably realize in another 10 that the thing I thought today was actually a bit idiotic anyway. Besides, even if I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that something is true, the best way to convince people isn't yelling at them about it, generally. Beyond that, even if I have hit upon an important and life-changing truth, the internet is hardly the place I'm going to go to share it.
But, I do have one piece of advice that I'm willing to share. This may be the last advice I ever give online, besides the vague "don't worry so much, moms" statements I occasionally make. Here it goes. Are you ready for this?
Use Cast Iron.
But, I do have one piece of advice that I'm willing to share. This may be the last advice I ever give online, besides the vague "don't worry so much, moms" statements I occasionally make. Here it goes. Are you ready for this?
Use Cast Iron.
Yup, that's it. Use cast iron. I guess I should give a few reasons, huh?
1. Food tastes better. It's actually true. The problem with using non-stick is that because you can't use very high heat and because you don't have to use fat/oil to keep your food from sticking, you don't get a good sear on meat, or good browning on anything, and your food tastes bo-rang. It's also nice to have a pan that goes from the stove to the oven, for browning and then roasting. It makes life easy and food tasty.
2. It's cheap. Seriously, this pan is the pan I use, the Lodge Logic, it's $20 at Walmart or Target or Amazon or anywhere. Most pans you buy, in fact, pretty much everything you buy, you use with the understanding that they will eventually fall apart and you will have to buy a new one at some point. This is one of the only things I know of that will actually improve the more you use it. You won't ever have to buy a new one, and your food will just keep tasting better and better, and the "seasoning" on the bottom will get smoother and more non-stick over time.
3. It's better for you. I know, I know, the use of Teflon is controversial, and many people believe it's safe or the jury is still out, and I'm not here to argue, so I'm going to take this from the most non-argumentative stand-point I can. Let's say that Teflon is 100% safe with proper use, don't go above "medium" heat, throw away if/when the non-stick coating starts to flake off into your food, etc. Firstly, not everyone's stove heats the same...are you positive you're never going too hot? I'm not. Secondly, do you toss your pan every time it starts to get weird on the bottom? I didn't, in the past I've cooked with it for quite a while until I could budget in a new pan. Even if there's just a small chance of getting cancer from PFOA, wouldn't it be better to skip it than take that chance?
There are some things about cast iron that make people reluctant to use it. Cleaning, for one. My skillet almost never sticks (and with proper use, yours won't either), so it's very rare I have to scrub at it, or do more than rub it with salt for a few seconds, most often, all I have to do is run some hot water over it.
The use of fat/oil in cooking is another problem people have, but with cast iron you actually use much less than you would with any other kind of non-nonstick pan. Plus, I don't think the fat/oil we eat is the problem with our diets, but that's another story for another day. All I'm saying is, embrace the butter, baby.
The other issue is that you really do have to do a little bit of research. You have to know how to wash and dry and season your pan and what tools to use, and it does take a bit of prep work. I don't think it adds much to my actual work at all, but I did have to learn how to do it in the first place.
The last issue I can think of is the weight...a cast iron skillet is heavy, it's true. But, with that heaviness comes an amazingly even heat distribution and good food, so, it's worth it. Plus, it's like a work out without having to work out, you know? I'd rather incorporate things that make me stronger in my day-to-day life than to spend time doing nothing but working out. I'd rather have more heavy household items, more stairs, more resistance. I guess that makes me weird, though, most people would rather have a 2lb vacuum cleaner and a grocery cart that floats and work out for an hour a day. There's nothing that I can do about that, except to say, in this case it's worth it.
Alright, I'm gonna wrap this up by making my first point again...food tastes better! Better food makes for a better life. A better life, well, is better. So, get a cheap cast iron skillet. Or, get an expensive cast iron skillet. Either way.
Having good tools means that you'll be able to enjoy the process of cooking as much as the food that results. You'll eat better and enjoy a greater variety of food. Your kids still won't, and you'll sort of resent them for hating the thing that you spent hours working on, but that's a story for another time.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
An Accidental Tradition
Every year, around mid-December, I think to myself, "hey, you know what would really put me in the Christmas spirit? Reading the first two chapters of Little Women."
So, I read the first two chapters. Then I think, "well, I've read this far, I might as well finish the book."
Then I finish the book and say to myself, "I've come this far, I'd better read Little Men."
And, I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this, I wind up reading Jo's Boys, too.
So you see, the last week or two leading up to Christmas is almost always spent reading the entire Little Women series, even though my intent was simply to read two chapters. I guess that's just how it goes, huh?
So, I read the first two chapters. Then I think, "well, I've read this far, I might as well finish the book."
Then I finish the book and say to myself, "I've come this far, I'd better read Little Men."
And, I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this, I wind up reading Jo's Boys, too.
So you see, the last week or two leading up to Christmas is almost always spent reading the entire Little Women series, even though my intent was simply to read two chapters. I guess that's just how it goes, huh?
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
What I Like
I tend to be a little, oh, what's the word for it? Proud? Conceited? A raging egomaniac? I don't know, something like that. This manifests itself in many areas of my life, but specifically, today, I'd like to address how I don't like to be given advice. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not offended by advice and I don't get mad if people give me advice, but it's not because I'm super nice, it's because I think most advice is so dumb that it's not worth paying any attention to, totally beneath me. I don't "pin" inspirational quotes because I don't think I need to be reminded of my self-worth...I have plenty of self-worth to go around. And I often scoff at people who do share inspirational quotes, I can't imagine having to be reminded by Gandhi or Einstein that I'm super awesome. I know I am.
Yeah, I know, I'm a snot-face. Hey, maybe that's the term I was looking for earlier.
Anyway, long story short, my sister convinced me to read "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. Do I think I need help being happy? Of course not. Even if I was unhappy, do I think a book would help me magically be happy? No. I can do it by my lonesome, because I'm just that awesome.
Well, regardless, I actually liked the book. I don't think it changed my life in any way, but she made some interesting points I can't remember right now. I got the book from the library, and I didn't write anything down and I don't have it with me right now, so I don't remember exactly what she said, but there was this one point in the book she was talking about finding what you actually like to do, instead of doing stuff you think you like to do.
You'd think it's easy knowing what you like, but it's really not. I've been spending some time evaluating what I like to do, and I'm starting to realize most of what I think I like to do is either stuff I used to like to do or, more commonly, stuff I think I should like to do but really don't. I've created a measuring stick for myself: if I'm willing to cut into my tv time in the evening, then I really like it. If I'm not willing to cut into my tv time then I don't like it, or, at least, I don't like it more than a rerun of Chopped. It's simple really, if I actually do it, then I like it.
So, here's what I'm starting to realize. I don't like concerts. In fact, I don't like listening to music unless I'm driving. I don't like tea unless I'm having tea with a friend. I don't really like ice cream generally. These are all things I think I should like, but don't.
I don't like to draw. I used to, but I don't now, I'm not sure why. I don't like most movies anymore. I think I've developed a very short attention span.
I do like to read. I know that because I actually read, I cut into my tv time to do it and my sleep time, and I sneak pages in between waiting for my grilled cheese sandwich to brown. I like watching silly tv shows with space ships and aliens and shows where people cook. Now, if only Restaurant: Impossible had a Restaurant At The End Of The Universe special, I'd be really happy. I like to cook and I like to eat, which is awesome because eating and tv watching are mutually inclusive. And I like going places alone, coffee shops, movie theaters, even the grocery store. And I like coffee.
And I like them:
And I like him:
Yeah, I know, I'm a snot-face. Hey, maybe that's the term I was looking for earlier.
Anyway, long story short, my sister convinced me to read "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. Do I think I need help being happy? Of course not. Even if I was unhappy, do I think a book would help me magically be happy? No. I can do it by my lonesome, because I'm just that awesome.
Well, regardless, I actually liked the book. I don't think it changed my life in any way, but she made some interesting points I can't remember right now. I got the book from the library, and I didn't write anything down and I don't have it with me right now, so I don't remember exactly what she said, but there was this one point in the book she was talking about finding what you actually like to do, instead of doing stuff you think you like to do.
You'd think it's easy knowing what you like, but it's really not. I've been spending some time evaluating what I like to do, and I'm starting to realize most of what I think I like to do is either stuff I used to like to do or, more commonly, stuff I think I should like to do but really don't. I've created a measuring stick for myself: if I'm willing to cut into my tv time in the evening, then I really like it. If I'm not willing to cut into my tv time then I don't like it, or, at least, I don't like it more than a rerun of Chopped. It's simple really, if I actually do it, then I like it.
So, here's what I'm starting to realize. I don't like concerts. In fact, I don't like listening to music unless I'm driving. I don't like tea unless I'm having tea with a friend. I don't really like ice cream generally. These are all things I think I should like, but don't.
I don't like to draw. I used to, but I don't now, I'm not sure why. I don't like most movies anymore. I think I've developed a very short attention span.
I do like to read. I know that because I actually read, I cut into my tv time to do it and my sleep time, and I sneak pages in between waiting for my grilled cheese sandwich to brown. I like watching silly tv shows with space ships and aliens and shows where people cook. Now, if only Restaurant: Impossible had a Restaurant At The End Of The Universe special, I'd be really happy. I like to cook and I like to eat, which is awesome because eating and tv watching are mutually inclusive. And I like going places alone, coffee shops, movie theaters, even the grocery store. And I like coffee.
And I like them:
And I like him:
And I like Christmas. Unabashedly, genuinely and whole-heartedly.
Monday, November 26, 2012
The Ups and Downs of the Holidays
Tuesday evening, we drove to Utah to visit my in-laws as soon as my husband got off work. Imagine my surprise when we arrived (after driving 6 hours) and my father-in-law was sick. As a dog. Stomach Bug. It obviously wasn't food poisoning, thus some sort of highly communicable death plague, I'm sure.
Wednesday morning, we dropped our car off to check out the transmission, since the last time we were at the shop for an oil change they said we had some leakage, but their shop wasn't equipped to work on transmissions. Then, we took the kids to the park:
Afterwards, my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and I decided to drive to Ikea for Christmas shopping and fun, since we figured we'd be too busy to venture out the rest of the weekend.
First, we got a call letting us know our car repairs would cost us at least $1,800. Then, on the way back, my mother-in-law got violently ill in her minivan...the stomach plague, er, flu, had spread. The thing about this stomach plague was, unlike most stomach bugs, it doesn't just last 24 hours. A person might only be vomiting for 24 hours, but they aren't able to eat real food for at least a week (my father-in-law got sick Monday night, but as of Sunday afternoon when we left, was still on a mostly banana, applesauce, and yogurt diet). So, into her room my mother-in-law went, for the next 36 hours, pretty much.
Thanksgiving morning, my sister-in-law and I decided to soldier on. It was Thanksgiving after all, and even though we were both a little sick to our stomachs from being in a car with a puking person, we were going to make it happen. We did the math, figured out how much time the turkey would take, and decided to cook the pies first.
And this happened:
I guess, unbeknownst to me, the brisket which was cooked a day prior to my arrival had leaked all over the oven floor, and then caught fire when I tried to bake my pies. Oops.
By the time the oven cooled down and we got the mess cleaned up, it was too late to put in the ginormous turkey and expect to have it done in time for dinner that night. So, we had brisket for dinner on Thanksgiving. I'd have been disappointed, except that it was phenomenal, and my mother-in-law and father-in-law were still so sick they wouldn't have been able to enjoy a real turkey dinner any more than the brisket.
Thursday night, my sister-in-law and I also had a very successful (and fun) Black Friday shopping extravaganza, so all-in-all, things had picked up.
Friday, I was still worrying about the fact that my car was going to explode on the drive home, or something. I was actually pretty worried, and trying to decide if it was worth it to fix all the damage and hope for the best, or just move on. Cam and I had been talking about buying a minivan for over a year, so Friday, when my in-laws felt better, we left the kids with them and went to test drive some vehicles. We didn't intend to buy that day, just see what we liked in person, though I knew, on paper, I wanted a used Honda Odyssey or Toyota Sienna.
Long story short, this happened:
It was the most expensive Black Friday I could've imagined, but I don't have an ounce of buyers remorse.
Saturday, we got to enjoy a turkey with all the trimmings, and open up Christmas presents.
Sunday, we drove home.
People have told me for years that travelling with kids is so much easier with a minivan. I thought it was a gross exaggeration, but I don't think that anymore. It was by far the most pleasant trip home I could've imagined. So, I think we can say, overall, it wound up being a great holiday weekend!
Wednesday morning, we dropped our car off to check out the transmission, since the last time we were at the shop for an oil change they said we had some leakage, but their shop wasn't equipped to work on transmissions. Then, we took the kids to the park:
Afterwards, my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and I decided to drive to Ikea for Christmas shopping and fun, since we figured we'd be too busy to venture out the rest of the weekend.
First, we got a call letting us know our car repairs would cost us at least $1,800. Then, on the way back, my mother-in-law got violently ill in her minivan...the stomach plague, er, flu, had spread. The thing about this stomach plague was, unlike most stomach bugs, it doesn't just last 24 hours. A person might only be vomiting for 24 hours, but they aren't able to eat real food for at least a week (my father-in-law got sick Monday night, but as of Sunday afternoon when we left, was still on a mostly banana, applesauce, and yogurt diet). So, into her room my mother-in-law went, for the next 36 hours, pretty much.
Thanksgiving morning, my sister-in-law and I decided to soldier on. It was Thanksgiving after all, and even though we were both a little sick to our stomachs from being in a car with a puking person, we were going to make it happen. We did the math, figured out how much time the turkey would take, and decided to cook the pies first.
And this happened:
I guess, unbeknownst to me, the brisket which was cooked a day prior to my arrival had leaked all over the oven floor, and then caught fire when I tried to bake my pies. Oops.
By the time the oven cooled down and we got the mess cleaned up, it was too late to put in the ginormous turkey and expect to have it done in time for dinner that night. So, we had brisket for dinner on Thanksgiving. I'd have been disappointed, except that it was phenomenal, and my mother-in-law and father-in-law were still so sick they wouldn't have been able to enjoy a real turkey dinner any more than the brisket.
Thursday night, my sister-in-law and I also had a very successful (and fun) Black Friday shopping extravaganza, so all-in-all, things had picked up.
Friday, I was still worrying about the fact that my car was going to explode on the drive home, or something. I was actually pretty worried, and trying to decide if it was worth it to fix all the damage and hope for the best, or just move on. Cam and I had been talking about buying a minivan for over a year, so Friday, when my in-laws felt better, we left the kids with them and went to test drive some vehicles. We didn't intend to buy that day, just see what we liked in person, though I knew, on paper, I wanted a used Honda Odyssey or Toyota Sienna.
Long story short, this happened:
It was the most expensive Black Friday I could've imagined, but I don't have an ounce of buyers remorse.
Saturday, we got to enjoy a turkey with all the trimmings, and open up Christmas presents.
Sunday, we drove home.
People have told me for years that travelling with kids is so much easier with a minivan. I thought it was a gross exaggeration, but I don't think that anymore. It was by far the most pleasant trip home I could've imagined. So, I think we can say, overall, it wound up being a great holiday weekend!
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Why Do We Do What We Do (Did I Say Do-Do)?
I read something today written by a friend. She really poured her heart out about, well, life in general, and it was pretty heartbreaking because I understood exactly where she was coming from. If you're not an introvert, you probably don't understand this, but we introverts "recharge by being alone." That's what she said, but it's totally true. It's not a matter of not loving our kids and our husbands, because we totally do, it's just that while we need "quality time" with our families as a whole, or just our husbands, or just our friends, sometimes we just need alone time. The problem with being a mom is: it's hard to get alone time. We don't even get to go to the bathroom by ourselves (please tell me eventually this will change).
For the most part we don't really set a time aside for being alone, partially because most of us don't even realize we need it, and partially because we feel guilty that we don't want to spend every waking second staring at our kids. Our lack of a real break causes us to feel overwhelmed and eventually shut down, so we try to steal a "few minutes" here and there by being on Facebook or Pinterest or whatever and end up wasting a bunch of time, but that makes us feel guiltier. Eventually we just break down to the detriment of our husbands and children, just like my friend described (though I don't know if she wastes a bunch of time doing nothing in a bad attempt to get alone time like I do).
I was discussing this phenomena of "alone time" with another friend today, and she said, "The worst is when you're a Christian mom and you are told you have to have a 'morning quiet time' to be a good Christian....when did we decide we had to do it this way? It's not like it's a Biblical mandate to be alone in your closet first thing in the morning." Sure, sure, morning seems like a good idea, there's a lot of people and blogs out there telling me why I'll be more productive and happy and the household will run smoother if I wake up at 4:30am so that I can get a half hour of quiet time before my kids wake up. Uh, no. I am not a morning person. Waking up at 4:30am means a half hour of staring blankly at my coffee cup, trying to make sense of the words in my Bible which seem to fade in and out, and literally panicking when I hear the creak from the bedroom upstairs indicating that my son has crawled out of bed 15 minutes early, thereby decreasing my "quiet time" from a half to a quarter hour. No thank you, been there, done that, terrible idea. I'm glad that it works for some people, but just because it works for some people doesn't mean it works for me....speaking of things I need to have grace for myself about.
I think that's one of the biggest ways Satan keeps us from doing stuff is by convincing us we aren't doing it the right way, so we might as well not do it at all. That's why I wasn't reading my Bible, somehow I bought into the lie that if I wasn't focusing (which, as you know, is hard to do either half asleep or with two kids running around) it wasn't worth doing at all. And everyone knows you can't pray unless you have at least 30 kid-free quiet minutes to groan in travail. Haha. Right. But, in the back of my head, I really think that, so I just skip it so much of the time.
We think, "well, I can't wake up at 4:30am to get a few minutes without the kids, so I might as well skip it. I can't get in my prayer closet without a toddler trying to drive cars over my feet, so I might as well skip it. I can't read my Bible because I can't really focus on it and write deep notes and highlight passages, because the last time I tried little Susie drew scribbles on John 2, so I might as well skip it." We don't get the things we need because we can't figure out a way to do it the "right way."
I think we just need to throw out the "right way" and do it whatever way we can. If that means reading our Bible in the living room while our kids watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (sans highlighter), so be it. If that means locking myself in my bedroom with a book while the husband watches the kids, even if it's Saturday evening and we should be spending it as a family, so be it. Who says what the "right way" should be anyway?
P.S. I don't know about you guys, but most of my reluctance to leave my kids with my husband isn't because he's upset about it, it's because I feel guilty that I need time away from them. Guilt just isn't a good reason to do or not do anything, especially if I'm the only one that cares. I know this isn't applicable to all of you, extroverts or single parents or people whose husbands are extroverts so they aren't as understanding about "alone time" as mine is. I'm just sharing what's applicable to me. And the reality is, my husband cares less about me needing alone time than about me randomly freaking out because I'm totally overwhelmed because I haven't had a second without someone demanding my attention in weeks. In fact, he even understands it, but since he gets solitary time at work he doesn't have fall-apart moments like I do.
P.P.S. Preschool starting has helped me so much recently, that three hours, four days a week feels God sent. Suddenly, it was like I could breathe again...and I didn't even realize I had been holding my breath.
For the most part we don't really set a time aside for being alone, partially because most of us don't even realize we need it, and partially because we feel guilty that we don't want to spend every waking second staring at our kids. Our lack of a real break causes us to feel overwhelmed and eventually shut down, so we try to steal a "few minutes" here and there by being on Facebook or Pinterest or whatever and end up wasting a bunch of time, but that makes us feel guiltier. Eventually we just break down to the detriment of our husbands and children, just like my friend described (though I don't know if she wastes a bunch of time doing nothing in a bad attempt to get alone time like I do).
I was discussing this phenomena of "alone time" with another friend today, and she said, "The worst is when you're a Christian mom and you are told you have to have a 'morning quiet time' to be a good Christian....when did we decide we had to do it this way? It's not like it's a Biblical mandate to be alone in your closet first thing in the morning." Sure, sure, morning seems like a good idea, there's a lot of people and blogs out there telling me why I'll be more productive and happy and the household will run smoother if I wake up at 4:30am so that I can get a half hour of quiet time before my kids wake up. Uh, no. I am not a morning person. Waking up at 4:30am means a half hour of staring blankly at my coffee cup, trying to make sense of the words in my Bible which seem to fade in and out, and literally panicking when I hear the creak from the bedroom upstairs indicating that my son has crawled out of bed 15 minutes early, thereby decreasing my "quiet time" from a half to a quarter hour. No thank you, been there, done that, terrible idea. I'm glad that it works for some people, but just because it works for some people doesn't mean it works for me....speaking of things I need to have grace for myself about.
I think that's one of the biggest ways Satan keeps us from doing stuff is by convincing us we aren't doing it the right way, so we might as well not do it at all. That's why I wasn't reading my Bible, somehow I bought into the lie that if I wasn't focusing (which, as you know, is hard to do either half asleep or with two kids running around) it wasn't worth doing at all. And everyone knows you can't pray unless you have at least 30 kid-free quiet minutes to groan in travail. Haha. Right. But, in the back of my head, I really think that, so I just skip it so much of the time.
We think, "well, I can't wake up at 4:30am to get a few minutes without the kids, so I might as well skip it. I can't get in my prayer closet without a toddler trying to drive cars over my feet, so I might as well skip it. I can't read my Bible because I can't really focus on it and write deep notes and highlight passages, because the last time I tried little Susie drew scribbles on John 2, so I might as well skip it." We don't get the things we need because we can't figure out a way to do it the "right way."
I think we just need to throw out the "right way" and do it whatever way we can. If that means reading our Bible in the living room while our kids watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (sans highlighter), so be it. If that means locking myself in my bedroom with a book while the husband watches the kids, even if it's Saturday evening and we should be spending it as a family, so be it. Who says what the "right way" should be anyway?
P.S. I don't know about you guys, but most of my reluctance to leave my kids with my husband isn't because he's upset about it, it's because I feel guilty that I need time away from them. Guilt just isn't a good reason to do or not do anything, especially if I'm the only one that cares. I know this isn't applicable to all of you, extroverts or single parents or people whose husbands are extroverts so they aren't as understanding about "alone time" as mine is. I'm just sharing what's applicable to me. And the reality is, my husband cares less about me needing alone time than about me randomly freaking out because I'm totally overwhelmed because I haven't had a second without someone demanding my attention in weeks. In fact, he even understands it, but since he gets solitary time at work he doesn't have fall-apart moments like I do.
P.P.S. Preschool starting has helped me so much recently, that three hours, four days a week feels God sent. Suddenly, it was like I could breathe again...and I didn't even realize I had been holding my breath.
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