I haven't blogged in almost 2 years. I'm sure codes in my blog format have expired. I'll be surprised if my fonts still work. But, motherhood has done that to me. Something had to give, in fact, a lot of things had to give and one of them was this blog. But I got a figurative smack in the face yesterday. It was accidental. The person who smacked me would rather die than hurt me and I know that. But, I was smacked just the same and I just can't shake it today. Maybe it's the cloudy sky outside ominously threatening rain. Maybe it's the hint of a headache I have. Maybe it's that I'm on day 4 with no cigarettes and my stomach was too upset last night and this morning to take my Chantix. Who knows. But I'm having a "30" day.
Let me explain. No, I'm not lamenting that I'm over 30. I don't have PMS. I'm living with secondary infertility, a fact which I've come to terms with over the last year and half or so, since I realized that was what was going on after we were almost a year into trying for baby #2. And 29 out of every 30 days I'm OK with it. Today is a "30" day.
29 out of 30 days, on average, I am confident in the decision that my husband and I made to just let God take control of the situation and to discontinue the pursuit of infertility treatment. I know that was the right decision for us. Earlier in the year I started having tests run and things scanned and getting poked and prodded to see what was going on. Each visit made me feel unbelievably guilty. I am so blessed to have the most beautiful, smart, sassy, fantastic little 3 year old. I have so many women in my life who have experienced multiple pregnancy losses or who have gotten to feel a sweet little life in their womb only to come home from the hospital with nothing more than a care plan for themselves. Today in particular I pray for these women, one who celebrated her son's heavenly birthday yesterday, one who will do so this week for her daughter, one who is as stubborn as a bull and won't give up on her dream. I admire them for their strength. I mourn their children with them. I pray for them each day. With those prayers I hug my sweet girl even tighter knowing just what a miracle she is. She is proof that God knows exactly what He's doing in my life. She is the reason I stopped seeing an infertility specialist. She is the reason that I'm OK for the rest of my life if she's an only child. She is the reason I have the "29" days.
But then there's a "30" day. A day when I get blindsided and someone or some situation finds the chink in my armor, finds my self doubt, and lets the devil into my head. Usually it's the same sweet girl who gets me through - when she asks me for a sister or pretends to have a sibling that I don't think will ever come. It used to be the cashier/host at our local Chinese buffet. She's a sweet lady and she fawns all over my little redhead every time we go in there. But then, as soon as I think I'm going to make it out safe, she tells me I need to have another one so that my girl won't be alone as she holds my change hostage when I pay. They recently got a poor health inspection score so I've been spared the last few months from that. But, I am a southern woman growing where I was planted. In the middle of the place where we bless the hearts of those we pity and think everyone's life should be "just so". So much so that the majority of us think it's OK to plan other women's lives for them because, lands sakes alive, why would it be any other way? So we tell them what we think before we think about their feelings. It's a tradition of word vomit that has been passed down generations under the code name "manners". It's got to stop.
First it was "When are you getting married?", "You know so-and-so just got engaged, when are you going to start dating a good man?", "You've got to be lonely living in that house by yourself, you should find you a husband". You get the picture. I went my own way and at the old age (by southern standards) of 25 I married my best friend. Before I even got to eat my own wedding cake I started getting the "Now it's time to have a baby!" talk. Given that I had just recently come around to the idea that I even wanted to be a mother in the first place, these comments were also unwelcome. I told my dad for the first 2 years of my marriage that every time he felt the need to bug me about it I was going to stay on my birth control for another 6 months. If I had made good on that threat I would have reached menopause first. But, when the time was right for us, my husband and I started "trying". 6 months later I was staring at a positive pregnancy test and at 37 weeks and 2 days I was rejoicing at the birth of our little girl. Before the scar on my belly healed I was already subject to "Have y'all talked about when you want to try for number 2?". So, by this time, these intrusive comments were normal and rolled off my back. I was used to going my own way, doing things in my own time, and ignoring those who begged to differ. That was, until my time wasn't right. Until I was faced with another scenario that - yet again just like with natural birth and breastfeeding- my body isn't made for motherhood.
So yesterday was a "30" day. This sweet woman who I love so dearly and I know without a shadow of a doubt would rather throw herself in traffic than hurt my feelings said to me "You can get pregnant again anytime now". Wow. On "29" days I answer comments like this with "We'll see about that" or "That's up to God, not me". Not a lie. Not a commitment. Not an invitation to converse about my reproductive system. Just a response with a smile that ends the subject. But yesterday those words didn't come. Maybe it was because it was the furthest thing from my mind. Maybe it was because I was not overwhelmed with life yesterday, staring at a house that's never clean, a budget that's never balanced, and a potty trained kid peeing in her pants while she throws a temper tantrum. Because on those "29" days, I'm pretty thankful that she's an only child and that thankfulness steels me. Maybe it was because I had seen the cutest little boy in overalls the day before walking with his dad and wished so much that I could give my husband that. Most of all I think it was because of the exact words that were said - you can get pregnant any time. Because, actually, I can't. I don't know why. In general I don't care why because I've turned it completely over to God and I am so glad that He's in control of it and not me. But I CAN'T. And yesterday that reminder just smacked me right in the face. It sent stingers to the back of my eyes so fast that I couldn't stop them and had to get out of that room, out of that church, as fast as possible. I didn't even wave bye to my little girl. I just walked as fast as was decent. It still won't leave me.
I know that by tonight, after I watch my sweet girl through the observation window at tumbling and watch her get excited about eating Daddy's basketti that I'll be back in the "29" zone. I'll be reminded that everything is OK. Our decision was the right one and our faith is in our Lord that He will provide for our family according to His perfect will. I know just how infinitely blessed we are to have the sweet little soul that we have in our lives and that I could never be thankful enough for God giving me the privilege of being her Mommy. But right now it's still a "30" day and I wish I could do it again, even just one more time.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Challenges Are Just Opportunities
I don't know how many times I have heard this in varying forms from all of those happy, smiley, life hands you lemons make lemonade people. And I wanted to smack them. A bad day is a bad day. Someone yelling at you is just a mean person. Obviously, despite a cheery exterior most of the time, I let negativity get a hold of me often. I'm trying to change that.
Challenge 1: My last blog post. I vowed to do something for myself to get active. I put forth best and worst scenarios thinking in my mind that the "at worst" would be my best. I proved myself wrong. I've been running. Go ahead, gasp! I gasp at myself every time I lace up my hot pink shoelaces at 5 am. I am now a runner and it's really awesome. I'm proud of myself simply for doing it. My dad ran with me for the entirety of the C25k program and I'm proud to tears of him too. I have a drive now to keep going. I actually enjoy it and I enjoy that it's "me" time to spend with myself (or my dad). It's not a challenge anymore - it's an OPPORTUNITY to run faster, go farther, and get healthier. It's also motivation when I have to do something I don't really want to do. I just tell myself "Hey! You ran 2 miles this morning before most people got out of bed and mostly uphill! You can do this like it's nothing!"
Challenge 2: Money! Isn't money always a challenge? It shouldn't be. This OPPORTUNITY is really a multi-parter. We've been attending a new church for a couple of months now and really really like it. Recently, God has been calling me to take a look at myself and my selfishness because we haven't been following His commandment and tithing. As the family financial guru who writes the budgets and manages the bills I just kept telling myself that we couldn't afford it. Oldest cop out in the book. Really! I'm pretty sure there's a scripture that talks about someone making some kind of lame excuse like that and then getting plagued by locusts. Old Testament I think. Anyway, yesterday I took a look at our bank account, saw some things that made me freak out, checked our credit card bill, freaked out again, and went on a mission to fix it. And the whole time, God was back there saying "Hey, can you fit Me in there?" I mean, how do you say no to God? He's God for crying out loud. So I took a look at it and fit it in. Sure, it took "sacrifice" that wasn't really true sacrifice. It was sacrifice of comfort and cushion - not real Abraham-take-your-son-to-the-hill kind of sacrifice. I'll be honest. When I figured it out I was pretty ashamed of myself and our family for ignoring a basic calling from God. He isn't asking us to pick up and move to Zimbabwe on a mission and live in a tent. He isn't asking us to sell everything we own and live like Him. He simply calls us to further His word and His work by giving back a tenth of the income He blesses us with. How can I know that and ignore it and then face Him when I get to Heaven? All that said it makes me realize just how far from Him I truly live. I mean, I pray (most) every day. I have a strong faith in my salvation and what God and Jesus did and sacrificed for me to have that salvation. We've gone back to church and feel like we've found the place where we want to stay. That's about where it ended. I don't spend time in His word. I pray to Him for help and I thank Him for my family, my salvation, my home, my daughter, my job, my food. But I feel like I only bring Him in where I feel like He fits instead of in EVERYTHING.
So, if He is in EVERYTHING already, why am I leaving Him out? So, I'm working on that. All of that. It's a journey and I've been praying A LOT! Pray for me please, I need it! I have an OPPORTUNITY to be closer to God - how can that be a bad thing???
Challenge 1: My last blog post. I vowed to do something for myself to get active. I put forth best and worst scenarios thinking in my mind that the "at worst" would be my best. I proved myself wrong. I've been running. Go ahead, gasp! I gasp at myself every time I lace up my hot pink shoelaces at 5 am. I am now a runner and it's really awesome. I'm proud of myself simply for doing it. My dad ran with me for the entirety of the C25k program and I'm proud to tears of him too. I have a drive now to keep going. I actually enjoy it and I enjoy that it's "me" time to spend with myself (or my dad). It's not a challenge anymore - it's an OPPORTUNITY to run faster, go farther, and get healthier. It's also motivation when I have to do something I don't really want to do. I just tell myself "Hey! You ran 2 miles this morning before most people got out of bed and mostly uphill! You can do this like it's nothing!"
Challenge 2: Money! Isn't money always a challenge? It shouldn't be. This OPPORTUNITY is really a multi-parter. We've been attending a new church for a couple of months now and really really like it. Recently, God has been calling me to take a look at myself and my selfishness because we haven't been following His commandment and tithing. As the family financial guru who writes the budgets and manages the bills I just kept telling myself that we couldn't afford it. Oldest cop out in the book. Really! I'm pretty sure there's a scripture that talks about someone making some kind of lame excuse like that and then getting plagued by locusts. Old Testament I think. Anyway, yesterday I took a look at our bank account, saw some things that made me freak out, checked our credit card bill, freaked out again, and went on a mission to fix it. And the whole time, God was back there saying "Hey, can you fit Me in there?" I mean, how do you say no to God? He's God for crying out loud. So I took a look at it and fit it in. Sure, it took "sacrifice" that wasn't really true sacrifice. It was sacrifice of comfort and cushion - not real Abraham-take-your-son-to-the-hill kind of sacrifice. I'll be honest. When I figured it out I was pretty ashamed of myself and our family for ignoring a basic calling from God. He isn't asking us to pick up and move to Zimbabwe on a mission and live in a tent. He isn't asking us to sell everything we own and live like Him. He simply calls us to further His word and His work by giving back a tenth of the income He blesses us with. How can I know that and ignore it and then face Him when I get to Heaven? All that said it makes me realize just how far from Him I truly live. I mean, I pray (most) every day. I have a strong faith in my salvation and what God and Jesus did and sacrificed for me to have that salvation. We've gone back to church and feel like we've found the place where we want to stay. That's about where it ended. I don't spend time in His word. I pray to Him for help and I thank Him for my family, my salvation, my home, my daughter, my job, my food. But I feel like I only bring Him in where I feel like He fits instead of in EVERYTHING.
Psalms 24:1 — "The earth is the Lord's, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it."
So, if He is in EVERYTHING already, why am I leaving Him out? So, I'm working on that. All of that. It's a journey and I've been praying A LOT! Pray for me please, I need it! I have an OPPORTUNITY to be closer to God - how can that be a bad thing???
Monday, July 15, 2013
Fresh Start
I've started and stopped this just a few too many times. I will make no promises about the frequency of my posts moving forward. Today, though, I feel as if it is imperative to my sanity that I pick this avenue of self expression up off of the shelf, blow off the dust, and embrace it.
You see, I had kind of an episode this morning. I don't want to call it a break down. It certainly wasn't an epiphany as it has offered me no answers to burning questions. The best term I can use to describe it is a "brain explosion". It sounds rather dangerous, doesn't it? I suppose it could have been. I did go into a tearful rage on the highway which could have ended catastrophically but it seems to have had many stages in a short amount of time and I'm not quite sure it is done. I guess it could also just be Monday and I will wake up tomorrow feeling quite centered and normal since tomorrow will be Tuesday. Let me explain (and hopefully organize my thoughts as they are still rather jumbled):
The fuse: I am going to go ahead and say this - this is going to sound silly. Really silly. But I've tried to trace where all of my thoughts, aggravations, and insecurities from today go back to and all I can come to is this. Justin's alarm went off early. He got up from his morning "nap" (the 15 or so minutes he takes to crawl back in the bed after we shower to snooze until we're both ready to go and get everything packed for the day and wake up our angel) earlier than I expected him to. Typically he doesn't get up until I am finished with my hair and today he did not wait for me to finish with my hair. He just got up and started getting dressed. That's where it all began.
When he gets up before I am finished with my hair it makes me feel like I should be done. Like a little kid ready to report to Mommy ready for school just before getting sent out the door to catch the school bus. I know he doesn't care if I'm done or not. I know he doesn't care if I walk into the kitchen at the same time as him. I know he doesn't care if he has to start filling Callie's bottles or packing Callie's bag without me there. But I care. If I don't walk into the kitchen at the same time as him something is inevitably forgotten. One day it was Callie's sippy. Several days it has been my lunch. Some days it is my earrings but it always seems to be SOMETHING. So I really make it a point to be ready to move on to the next phase of our morning together and today I wasn't.
The spark: I hate to be rushed and this situation led to me feeling rushed. I would honestly rather wake up a half hour early or drive to work with no make-up than to feel rushed. Unfortunately I had not forseen that Justin was going to get up early today and so I had no remedy in hand. I just had to GO. So off I went into the kitchen. THE KITCHEN. Our messy, dishes in the sink, flour on the cutting board, full trash can, dirty floor kitchen. I hate walking into a mess like that. I hate being rushed. Walking into a mess + being rushed = flashes of red going off in my head. Danger Will Robinson! Danger! Justin makes bottles while I go to fill up Callie's bag for school. But her bag for school is full of toys that she shoved into it. She was able to do this because the bag had previously been empty. It had previously been empty because milk had leaked from a bottle and it smelled horrendous. So, I had to again empty the bag, wipe it out, and then fill it. From scratch. I had to sneak into her room to get extra clothes for her to take to school. I had to put the bottles that Justin filled and the fruit he had cut into it. I had to make sure she had a sippy and sunscreen. I later remembered that she had to have a sun hat. While I am doing this Justin starts getting himself ready by making his coffee, folding his jacket, and putting everything together for him to leave. I feel rushed again. I need my lunch packed. I need my lunchbox to then be put into my blue work bag. I need to make sure I have what I need in my purse. I need more coffee. I need more hands! I need a clean house!!
The Explosion: The rest of the morning goes normally. Callie gets up, I get her dressed, give her a bottle, put her hair up. She played very independently while I loaded the dishwasher to at least try and make a small dent in the kitchen problem. I changed her diaper and off we went. All of these things went without issue but something just kept plaguing me. The mess. The time. The rush to get Callie to school. My job. My upcoming review at work. How am I going to pay for my speeding ticket? Why did I even let myself get a speeding ticket? What is my 5 year plan? What are my goals in life? What do I need to get done today? It all just jumbled around in my head until ... BOOM! The tears flowed and I hadn't even gotten Callie to school yet. What a way to start a week.
I got Callie into school as normal. I didn't unload my anger and aggravation and frustration onto her teachers. When I got back into my car it surged again. I wanted to get to work and crawl in a corner and cry. I felt like I would never be able to be adequate. My house would never be clean. My child will never learn to talk. I will never make enough money. I will never excel at my job. I was a horrible wife to my husband. I am overweight and out of shape and will never again be attractive. Everything felt like it was crumbling. The longer I drove the worse I got.
This was a full blown pity party for myself. And it dawned on me how selfish I was being. How could I think that (as Jennie would say) I was suffering from a terminal case of uniqueness? I am so infinitely blessed. I have a beautiful and healthy daughter who will learn to talk and probably sooner than I think. I have a home no matter how messy it is. I have a pretty good job even if I don't know what my goals are. I have a loving and supportive and truly fantastic-in-every-way husband who I couldn't live without. My life is awesome!
The Congressional Hearing: That solved the pity party quickly. I had no need to have all of this anger and frustration. It did not however mop my floors, fold my clothes, fill out my Individual Development Plan, fill my bank account, make me a size 5, give me 6 more hours in my day, or make my hair resistant to frizz. I did give me a more objective platform from which to address my problems. Now I have to figure out my plan of attack. How do I decide what to work on first? How do I know where my life is going to go? How do I do anything??
I prayed. It's what my mom has ALWAYS told me to do when I didn't know what to do. It's what my heart tells me to do when I am still enough and quiet enough to listen. I prayed for guidance. I prayed for strength. I praised God for that swift kick in the rear to remind me of what He has given me even though I don't deserve it. His answer was clear: just let Me take care of it. Let Him. It's all I ever need to do in life.
That being said, I certainly don't expect to go home and have had God cleaned my whole house with a band of angels and a Swiffer. I don't expect Him to suddenly make the Earth turn slower just so that I can get more done each day. But I do know that He has a plan for my life. He knows my goals even when I don't. So that's two questions down. I still don't know the answer but I know that all I have to do is wait and all will be revealed to me in His time and for His purpose. In the meantime I will trust in Him. I will also create an organizational chart for myself to get my house clean and try to keep it clean. I will try and find some time - even if it's just 15 minutes before Justin gets out of bed - to put in some physical activity. At best I might take up running. At worst maybe just use the fitness app on my TV. I have GOT to be better for my daughter. I will simply have to answer honestly in my review and say that no, I don't have a 5 year plan right now. I do not have aspirations to move up in the company right now. I do, however, have a drive to do my job to the very best of my ability because that's the only way for me to get an increase in pay. I do take great pride in my work and although I don't know exactly what I'm working towards I am committed to my own personal development, it just might have to be generic development for a little while. The most important commitments I have right now are to getting myself in order, my relationship with God stronger, my marriage stronger, and to be the very best mommy I can possibly be to Callie. Those are my priorities.
I may have to add blogging back in there somewhere too because this post in and of itself has helped me feel tremendously better. It has been a great Monday. And, in the words of the song on my cloud player (and the Zac Brown Band)
You see, I had kind of an episode this morning. I don't want to call it a break down. It certainly wasn't an epiphany as it has offered me no answers to burning questions. The best term I can use to describe it is a "brain explosion". It sounds rather dangerous, doesn't it? I suppose it could have been. I did go into a tearful rage on the highway which could have ended catastrophically but it seems to have had many stages in a short amount of time and I'm not quite sure it is done. I guess it could also just be Monday and I will wake up tomorrow feeling quite centered and normal since tomorrow will be Tuesday. Let me explain (and hopefully organize my thoughts as they are still rather jumbled):
The fuse: I am going to go ahead and say this - this is going to sound silly. Really silly. But I've tried to trace where all of my thoughts, aggravations, and insecurities from today go back to and all I can come to is this. Justin's alarm went off early. He got up from his morning "nap" (the 15 or so minutes he takes to crawl back in the bed after we shower to snooze until we're both ready to go and get everything packed for the day and wake up our angel) earlier than I expected him to. Typically he doesn't get up until I am finished with my hair and today he did not wait for me to finish with my hair. He just got up and started getting dressed. That's where it all began.
When he gets up before I am finished with my hair it makes me feel like I should be done. Like a little kid ready to report to Mommy ready for school just before getting sent out the door to catch the school bus. I know he doesn't care if I'm done or not. I know he doesn't care if I walk into the kitchen at the same time as him. I know he doesn't care if he has to start filling Callie's bottles or packing Callie's bag without me there. But I care. If I don't walk into the kitchen at the same time as him something is inevitably forgotten. One day it was Callie's sippy. Several days it has been my lunch. Some days it is my earrings but it always seems to be SOMETHING. So I really make it a point to be ready to move on to the next phase of our morning together and today I wasn't.
The spark: I hate to be rushed and this situation led to me feeling rushed. I would honestly rather wake up a half hour early or drive to work with no make-up than to feel rushed. Unfortunately I had not forseen that Justin was going to get up early today and so I had no remedy in hand. I just had to GO. So off I went into the kitchen. THE KITCHEN. Our messy, dishes in the sink, flour on the cutting board, full trash can, dirty floor kitchen. I hate walking into a mess like that. I hate being rushed. Walking into a mess + being rushed = flashes of red going off in my head. Danger Will Robinson! Danger! Justin makes bottles while I go to fill up Callie's bag for school. But her bag for school is full of toys that she shoved into it. She was able to do this because the bag had previously been empty. It had previously been empty because milk had leaked from a bottle and it smelled horrendous. So, I had to again empty the bag, wipe it out, and then fill it. From scratch. I had to sneak into her room to get extra clothes for her to take to school. I had to put the bottles that Justin filled and the fruit he had cut into it. I had to make sure she had a sippy and sunscreen. I later remembered that she had to have a sun hat. While I am doing this Justin starts getting himself ready by making his coffee, folding his jacket, and putting everything together for him to leave. I feel rushed again. I need my lunch packed. I need my lunchbox to then be put into my blue work bag. I need to make sure I have what I need in my purse. I need more coffee. I need more hands! I need a clean house!!
The Explosion: The rest of the morning goes normally. Callie gets up, I get her dressed, give her a bottle, put her hair up. She played very independently while I loaded the dishwasher to at least try and make a small dent in the kitchen problem. I changed her diaper and off we went. All of these things went without issue but something just kept plaguing me. The mess. The time. The rush to get Callie to school. My job. My upcoming review at work. How am I going to pay for my speeding ticket? Why did I even let myself get a speeding ticket? What is my 5 year plan? What are my goals in life? What do I need to get done today? It all just jumbled around in my head until ... BOOM! The tears flowed and I hadn't even gotten Callie to school yet. What a way to start a week.
I got Callie into school as normal. I didn't unload my anger and aggravation and frustration onto her teachers. When I got back into my car it surged again. I wanted to get to work and crawl in a corner and cry. I felt like I would never be able to be adequate. My house would never be clean. My child will never learn to talk. I will never make enough money. I will never excel at my job. I was a horrible wife to my husband. I am overweight and out of shape and will never again be attractive. Everything felt like it was crumbling. The longer I drove the worse I got.
This was a full blown pity party for myself. And it dawned on me how selfish I was being. How could I think that (as Jennie would say) I was suffering from a terminal case of uniqueness? I am so infinitely blessed. I have a beautiful and healthy daughter who will learn to talk and probably sooner than I think. I have a home no matter how messy it is. I have a pretty good job even if I don't know what my goals are. I have a loving and supportive and truly fantastic-in-every-way husband who I couldn't live without. My life is awesome!
The Congressional Hearing: That solved the pity party quickly. I had no need to have all of this anger and frustration. It did not however mop my floors, fold my clothes, fill out my Individual Development Plan, fill my bank account, make me a size 5, give me 6 more hours in my day, or make my hair resistant to frizz. I did give me a more objective platform from which to address my problems. Now I have to figure out my plan of attack. How do I decide what to work on first? How do I know where my life is going to go? How do I do anything??
I prayed. It's what my mom has ALWAYS told me to do when I didn't know what to do. It's what my heart tells me to do when I am still enough and quiet enough to listen. I prayed for guidance. I prayed for strength. I praised God for that swift kick in the rear to remind me of what He has given me even though I don't deserve it. His answer was clear: just let Me take care of it. Let Him. It's all I ever need to do in life.
That being said, I certainly don't expect to go home and have had God cleaned my whole house with a band of angels and a Swiffer. I don't expect Him to suddenly make the Earth turn slower just so that I can get more done each day. But I do know that He has a plan for my life. He knows my goals even when I don't. So that's two questions down. I still don't know the answer but I know that all I have to do is wait and all will be revealed to me in His time and for His purpose. In the meantime I will trust in Him. I will also create an organizational chart for myself to get my house clean and try to keep it clean. I will try and find some time - even if it's just 15 minutes before Justin gets out of bed - to put in some physical activity. At best I might take up running. At worst maybe just use the fitness app on my TV. I have GOT to be better for my daughter. I will simply have to answer honestly in my review and say that no, I don't have a 5 year plan right now. I do not have aspirations to move up in the company right now. I do, however, have a drive to do my job to the very best of my ability because that's the only way for me to get an increase in pay. I do take great pride in my work and although I don't know exactly what I'm working towards I am committed to my own personal development, it just might have to be generic development for a little while. The most important commitments I have right now are to getting myself in order, my relationship with God stronger, my marriage stronger, and to be the very best mommy I can possibly be to Callie. Those are my priorities.
I may have to add blogging back in there somewhere too because this post in and of itself has helped me feel tremendously better. It has been a great Monday. And, in the words of the song on my cloud player (and the Zac Brown Band)
I'm gonna make this day a little better than the last! It's amazing how slow a day like this can go. Find a way to wash away any regrets you have. Don't let this moment pass but live inside this day!
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Prego... Not the Spaghetti Sauce.
I've known for some time now that Hubby and I are expecting a little bundle towards the end of May. Right now I'm only telling people via word of mouth. I haven't made it "Facebook Official". But today I just feel like I need to get a few things off my chest. I truly feel like this will be safe for a while because it's been so long since I've written a blog post that I don't think I have any followers left.
I would first like to preface this post with the following. I am beyond all laws of excited to be pregnant. I talk to my "Little Bean" every day. I tell him or her what they are missing today in the outside world. I pray over my slightly bloated belly that my sweet baby is growing and healthy and happy. I tell Little Bean about all of the people in the world that are just chomping at the bit to meet him and how much he or she is loved.
I say all of that to say this. Pregnancy is hard. I never thought it would be easy, really, but it's really a lot harder than I think I was prepared for. Now, I would go through symptoms so much worse than this if that's what I had to do to have my little miracle be healthy. Don't get me wrong, I'm in this for the greater good of my child. But that doesn't change the fact that sometimes, it just down right sucks. And now, some random notes on that -
- The term "morning sickness" is an all encompassing vat of lies. I've come to realize as you try to find sympathy with other mommies-to-be that everyone's experience is completely different. Take me for example, I suffered from almost completely day long nausea from before I even took a test until late last week. I never threw up (due to that anyway, we'll get to the puking later). I just felt like absolute crap all day.
- Feeling like crap is a good segway to how absolutely freaking tired I am. I try to get through this by telling myself that my Little Bean needs our energy more than I do in order to grow. But Mommy also needs to stay awake at work so that Little Bean will still have a house to live in when he or she is born. The only slight help I've found for this are chocolate milk breaks. Or naps on the weekends. Naps are better. Chocolate milk is only a slight diversion.
- TMI ALERT - Again, while we're on the subject of "crap", I"ll never take that for granted again. I feel like the nausea and exhaustion are secretly fueled by my inability to "take the Browns to the Super Bowl". I'm not going to elaborate much beyond that but, really, after I had gas cramps so bad that I puked, I don't think I'll ever take a simple fart for granted again.
- OTHER PEOPLE!!! Lord have mercy and give me patience but people say some of the stupidest stuff. Like the unsolicited advice. I understand and appreciate when people tell me to take ginger supplements to help the nausea, take warm baths to help things "flow", things like that. But when you start telling me "Tired! You haven't even seen tired yet!", I think I should be allowed to bitch slap you. I'm aware that I haven't seen tired yet but that comment does not help keep me awake at 3:00 in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Or "Oh, you're not far along enough to be showing, how much are you eating?" Really, like I don't know that I shouldn't be sporting this awesome looking fanny pack of flesh? Furthermore, who are you to tell me what I should or should not look like? Are you my OB? No, so shut up. ALSO - I can barely eat anything and when I can, I can't eat large portions! I have in fact LOST four pounds. There are things that can distend your abdomen other than cheeseburgers. Get it straight. Lastly - "You shouldn't be eating that." Look, I'm following most of my recommendations. I don't eat tuna every day. I limit my caffeine to less than the allowed parameters. I don't eat sushi or cockroaches or any other ridiculous thing I'm not supposed to eat for obvious reasons. But if I've been so nauseous all day that I barely made it through church and all that sounds good to me is a great big sub sandwich, kiss my cold cuts. When's the last time you heard of an outbreak of listeria on Oscar Meyer honey smoked ham? Never. Shut it.
- Adjusting my wardrobe has been less than fun. Sure, shopping is great. But it's not like I can just replace my whole wardrobe at one time. My mom has been the sweetest and started out my maternity clothes collection for me. I have also, in an effort to extend the life of my pre-pregnancy pants, purchased a belly band. Now, this thing is great to keep me from feeling like I'm splitting in half at 3:00 sitting at my computer. However, if I actually have to do any sort of lifting or bending over or slight physical exertion, forget it. It rolls every which way. It shifts every time you move. Not to mention how I now am limited to shirts that are long enough to be tunics to cover the thing. But it is better than the rubber band around the button trick. I will say that.
- Most days I find a point where I realize what Linda Blair was going for when she played in The Exorcist. I just literally feel like some unknown bitchy, weepy, crazy person has taken me over sometimes. The worst part is, my normal consciousness is inside, observing the goings on, and I'm not happy about it. So then, when "I" finally re-surface I cry some more because I feel horrible about how I've acted, about the things I've said and done, etc.
Here are some random awesome things:
- Chocolate tastes better than it's ever tasted before
- I saw my Little Bean's heart beat. It was the coolest sight and sound ever.
- I love holding my belly, even this early when it's barely even there and is mostly gas.
- You wouldn't believe all of the sodas that come in a caffeine free variety!
- I feel even more in love with my husband than I did the day I married him. And he's given me the greatest gift he could ever give me.
I would first like to preface this post with the following. I am beyond all laws of excited to be pregnant. I talk to my "Little Bean" every day. I tell him or her what they are missing today in the outside world. I pray over my slightly bloated belly that my sweet baby is growing and healthy and happy. I tell Little Bean about all of the people in the world that are just chomping at the bit to meet him and how much he or she is loved.
I say all of that to say this. Pregnancy is hard. I never thought it would be easy, really, but it's really a lot harder than I think I was prepared for. Now, I would go through symptoms so much worse than this if that's what I had to do to have my little miracle be healthy. Don't get me wrong, I'm in this for the greater good of my child. But that doesn't change the fact that sometimes, it just down right sucks. And now, some random notes on that -
- The term "morning sickness" is an all encompassing vat of lies. I've come to realize as you try to find sympathy with other mommies-to-be that everyone's experience is completely different. Take me for example, I suffered from almost completely day long nausea from before I even took a test until late last week. I never threw up (due to that anyway, we'll get to the puking later). I just felt like absolute crap all day.
- Feeling like crap is a good segway to how absolutely freaking tired I am. I try to get through this by telling myself that my Little Bean needs our energy more than I do in order to grow. But Mommy also needs to stay awake at work so that Little Bean will still have a house to live in when he or she is born. The only slight help I've found for this are chocolate milk breaks. Or naps on the weekends. Naps are better. Chocolate milk is only a slight diversion.
- TMI ALERT - Again, while we're on the subject of "crap", I"ll never take that for granted again. I feel like the nausea and exhaustion are secretly fueled by my inability to "take the Browns to the Super Bowl". I'm not going to elaborate much beyond that but, really, after I had gas cramps so bad that I puked, I don't think I'll ever take a simple fart for granted again.
- OTHER PEOPLE!!! Lord have mercy and give me patience but people say some of the stupidest stuff. Like the unsolicited advice. I understand and appreciate when people tell me to take ginger supplements to help the nausea, take warm baths to help things "flow", things like that. But when you start telling me "Tired! You haven't even seen tired yet!", I think I should be allowed to bitch slap you. I'm aware that I haven't seen tired yet but that comment does not help keep me awake at 3:00 in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Or "Oh, you're not far along enough to be showing, how much are you eating?" Really, like I don't know that I shouldn't be sporting this awesome looking fanny pack of flesh? Furthermore, who are you to tell me what I should or should not look like? Are you my OB? No, so shut up. ALSO - I can barely eat anything and when I can, I can't eat large portions! I have in fact LOST four pounds. There are things that can distend your abdomen other than cheeseburgers. Get it straight. Lastly - "You shouldn't be eating that." Look, I'm following most of my recommendations. I don't eat tuna every day. I limit my caffeine to less than the allowed parameters. I don't eat sushi or cockroaches or any other ridiculous thing I'm not supposed to eat for obvious reasons. But if I've been so nauseous all day that I barely made it through church and all that sounds good to me is a great big sub sandwich, kiss my cold cuts. When's the last time you heard of an outbreak of listeria on Oscar Meyer honey smoked ham? Never. Shut it.
- Adjusting my wardrobe has been less than fun. Sure, shopping is great. But it's not like I can just replace my whole wardrobe at one time. My mom has been the sweetest and started out my maternity clothes collection for me. I have also, in an effort to extend the life of my pre-pregnancy pants, purchased a belly band. Now, this thing is great to keep me from feeling like I'm splitting in half at 3:00 sitting at my computer. However, if I actually have to do any sort of lifting or bending over or slight physical exertion, forget it. It rolls every which way. It shifts every time you move. Not to mention how I now am limited to shirts that are long enough to be tunics to cover the thing. But it is better than the rubber band around the button trick. I will say that.
- Most days I find a point where I realize what Linda Blair was going for when she played in The Exorcist. I just literally feel like some unknown bitchy, weepy, crazy person has taken me over sometimes. The worst part is, my normal consciousness is inside, observing the goings on, and I'm not happy about it. So then, when "I" finally re-surface I cry some more because I feel horrible about how I've acted, about the things I've said and done, etc.
Here are some random awesome things:
- Chocolate tastes better than it's ever tasted before
- I saw my Little Bean's heart beat. It was the coolest sight and sound ever.
- I love holding my belly, even this early when it's barely even there and is mostly gas.
- You wouldn't believe all of the sodas that come in a caffeine free variety!
- I feel even more in love with my husband than I did the day I married him. And he's given me the greatest gift he could ever give me.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Ragged... And Loving It
I know this apology is repetitive. I've said it before and I've meant it as much every time as I do today. I'm sorry for my lag in posts. This time, however, I have a good reason! I have secured gainful employment and have been working myself ragged for a month now. I will not disclose where I work because this is a personal blog but I can tell you that I am a Private Dining Director in an upscale restaurant and I love it. I love nothing more than making people happy and I have finally found a job where I am actually getting paid to do just that. I also love each and every one of my co-workers and the company I work for. They are all so supportive and that is part of the reason I've been at work so much. The training process is very detailed and there is lots to learn so I've been at work more than I've been home for the last month. This has caused a change in my home life, obviously, and it's one that I'm still having a hard time adjusting to.
You see, I had gotten quite used to being the quintessential housewife. I did the laundry, kept the house clean, did the grocery shopping, and had full meals on the table every day. But, now that I've been working these tasks have been taken over by my husband who is also working. Some things have lagged, the house is not as clean as it was, dishes may or may not sit in the sink for more than a day but really, it's the best we can both do. I feel guilty for this because I have done less than 5% of this work. The earliest I have gotten home each day has been 7:00 and that was this past Monday. Usually it's more like 8:30 or 9:00 and I know the last thing I feel like doing when I get home is housework. Hubby has been doing a wonderful job taking care of the things I feel like should fall on me despite the fact that I know he doesn't want to do those things after he gets home from a full day of work either. This all leads me to my question: How on earth do people do this??
I know that it is a normal part of life in this day and age for both spouses to work and there are plenty of people who work more than I do and still get all of these things done, but how? When I get home all I want to do is rest and spend quality time with my husband. We still try to get to bed at a decent hour so that we are well rested in the morning when we get up so staying up late isn't an option. I guess I could be doing something around here instead of blogging but how do I keep myself from getting caught up in the cleaning and making myself late for work?
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my job. I feel fulfilled every time I put together an event or have a guest say "Thank you for making this easy". I love knowing that if I don't hit my sales goals each month it is no one's fault but my own which gives me the drive to get up every day, get out there, and sell my tail off. I enjoy my time at work and I haven't even counted the number of hours I work each day or week which is a first. I know that things will slow down after December and I'll be able to get into a more normal routine but right now I'm just not sure how to achieve that home/life balance. I don't bring work home. I may be guilty of checking my work e-mail on my laptop before checking Facebook but I spend no more than 5 minutes doing so. That's another perk of the job - when I'm home, I'M HOME. So how, I ask, do I find that place where I feel like I'm giving 100% to my work and 100% to my home and my family? If you have figured that out in your own life please let me know. I think it's darn near impossible!!!
You see, I had gotten quite used to being the quintessential housewife. I did the laundry, kept the house clean, did the grocery shopping, and had full meals on the table every day. But, now that I've been working these tasks have been taken over by my husband who is also working. Some things have lagged, the house is not as clean as it was, dishes may or may not sit in the sink for more than a day but really, it's the best we can both do. I feel guilty for this because I have done less than 5% of this work. The earliest I have gotten home each day has been 7:00 and that was this past Monday. Usually it's more like 8:30 or 9:00 and I know the last thing I feel like doing when I get home is housework. Hubby has been doing a wonderful job taking care of the things I feel like should fall on me despite the fact that I know he doesn't want to do those things after he gets home from a full day of work either. This all leads me to my question: How on earth do people do this??
I know that it is a normal part of life in this day and age for both spouses to work and there are plenty of people who work more than I do and still get all of these things done, but how? When I get home all I want to do is rest and spend quality time with my husband. We still try to get to bed at a decent hour so that we are well rested in the morning when we get up so staying up late isn't an option. I guess I could be doing something around here instead of blogging but how do I keep myself from getting caught up in the cleaning and making myself late for work?
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my job. I feel fulfilled every time I put together an event or have a guest say "Thank you for making this easy". I love knowing that if I don't hit my sales goals each month it is no one's fault but my own which gives me the drive to get up every day, get out there, and sell my tail off. I enjoy my time at work and I haven't even counted the number of hours I work each day or week which is a first. I know that things will slow down after December and I'll be able to get into a more normal routine but right now I'm just not sure how to achieve that home/life balance. I don't bring work home. I may be guilty of checking my work e-mail on my laptop before checking Facebook but I spend no more than 5 minutes doing so. That's another perk of the job - when I'm home, I'M HOME. So how, I ask, do I find that place where I feel like I'm giving 100% to my work and 100% to my home and my family? If you have figured that out in your own life please let me know. I think it's darn near impossible!!!
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Paying Tribute
Recently Hubby and I attended an Atlanta Braves game. This game was monumental for us for many reasons, some which were apparent to us when we made plans for our trip and some which were cemented last night. This season was the final season that we would see the marvelous #6, Bobby Cox, manage the Bravos.
Bobby has been the Braves' manager since 1985. Hubby and I were 2 years old then and so he is the only manager we have ever known for our favorite baseball team. We're both huge fans. We cheer with the crowd even when we're just watching the game on television. I'm fairly sure that my neighbors think I'm insane because of that. I have been known to yell at pitchers, scream for victory, and do the Tomahawk Chop all with the windows open for everyone to hear. It's OK, I'm secure enough to not care. So when the announcement was made that the Skipper was retiring this year we both knew that we had to see one last game. We had hopes, especially earlier in the season, that the Braves would make it to the World Series but just to be safe we planned a trip to see the opening game of the last regular season series against the division champions, the Philadelphia Phillies. We didn't want to miss our chance and it just so happened that it was also the weekend of Hubby's birthday.
We didn't win that night. Despite a late rally by our good old boys the Phillies prevailed that evening. That did not, however, change this one simple fact:
And so Hubby and I left Turner Field that evening and tipped our hats to the Skipper. We had hoped after the Braves went on to secure the Wild Card that Sunday that maybe we would still see them in the World Series and have one last chance to say goodbye to Bobby. But those dreams were let go last night as the San Francisco Giants took away our chances of advancing to the NLCS. So take a moment with me to become a Braves fan if you aren't one and thank one of the greatest managers in Major League Baseball.
Thanks Bobby. All the best.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
I'll Get To It Sometime
So, I'll go ahead and warn you, this post doesn't have much of a purpose.
I have some ideas for upcoming blog posts.
I will detail our trip to the North Carolina Zoological Park.
I will give you a pictorial view of an average day as a housewife.
I will tell you all about my current project of making myself a new Christmas tree skirt.
I will give you weekly updates on my attempt to serve 18 people Thanksgiving dinner on a budget.
I will tell you all about our trip to Atlanta this weekend for a Braves game against the Phillies. Just so you know, the Phillies took the division lead away from the Braves and now we're trying to hang on to the Wild Card bid into the MLB playoffs. And by "we" I do mean myself and the Braves. I'm part of the team....
I will tell you about the town I grew up in.
I will tell you all about Hornworms and the love / hate relationship I have with them.
But for today I'm just telling you about the things I'm going to do. That way, maybe I'll actually do them. On that note, maybe I should tell you about all of the things I need to do today before we leave, so that I will actually get them done. But then again, I don't want to lose all 5 people who read this blog. If I were to list those things you would all die of boredom. And I'm not a murderer. Unless you count Stink bugs. In which case, I'm guilty as charged and proud of it.
Here's a thought - would you guys tell me if you even want to hear about any of these things? Please, comment, tell me if I should even spend my time writing about any of this stuff. And if I shouldn't please let me know what you would like for me to blog about. World peace, the life of a watermelon, whatever.
Also, once you've done that, check out Single Dad Laughing. He's heartwarming, thought provoking, and hilarious!
I have some ideas for upcoming blog posts.
I will detail our trip to the North Carolina Zoological Park.
I will give you a pictorial view of an average day as a housewife.
I will tell you all about my current project of making myself a new Christmas tree skirt.
I will give you weekly updates on my attempt to serve 18 people Thanksgiving dinner on a budget.
I will tell you all about our trip to Atlanta this weekend for a Braves game against the Phillies. Just so you know, the Phillies took the division lead away from the Braves and now we're trying to hang on to the Wild Card bid into the MLB playoffs. And by "we" I do mean myself and the Braves. I'm part of the team....
I will tell you about the town I grew up in.
I will tell you all about Hornworms and the love / hate relationship I have with them.
But for today I'm just telling you about the things I'm going to do. That way, maybe I'll actually do them. On that note, maybe I should tell you about all of the things I need to do today before we leave, so that I will actually get them done. But then again, I don't want to lose all 5 people who read this blog. If I were to list those things you would all die of boredom. And I'm not a murderer. Unless you count Stink bugs. In which case, I'm guilty as charged and proud of it.
Here's a thought - would you guys tell me if you even want to hear about any of these things? Please, comment, tell me if I should even spend my time writing about any of this stuff. And if I shouldn't please let me know what you would like for me to blog about. World peace, the life of a watermelon, whatever.
Also, once you've done that, check out Single Dad Laughing. He's heartwarming, thought provoking, and hilarious!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
I'm a Cheater
So, in reading one of the blogs I follow by Little Mrs. Married I found this other fun blog myleighashley and found a fun (could also be read lazy) way to provide a mid-week blog post. So here you are, a wee bit of me.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Reverence & Rememberance
I, like all Americans older than 12, remember where I was 9 years ago today. I think I will always remember. I hope I never forget. I was a college freshman in Charleston, South Carolina. I had only been away from my family for a week and a half and the newness of college, new friends, a new town, new experiences, a new boyfriend, had yet to wear off and really make me homesick. However, on this day 9 years ago, that was brought to an abrupt halt. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to be at home with my mom hugging me and telling me it was going to be OK. I woke up a little before 9:00 that morning. Unlike most new college students, my classes didn't start until 1:30 in the afternoon. For an 18 year old who had never been on her own it was great. It was even greater that my first class of college was Mixology - the science of being a bartender. I wasn't even old enough to drink the beverages I was learning to concoct but how cool would that make me among my high school friends when we all saw each other again at Thanksgiving? Anyway, I got up that morning and 2 of my room mates had already left for class. My third room mate Megan, who I shared a bedroom with, had not quite roused herself from sleep yet so I shuffled in my pajamas to our living room and turned on the television. I was immediately stunned and confused by what I saw in front of me. The words the reporters were saying didn't register to me, all I remember seeing were people in New York running and it looked like they were covered in snow. It seemed like an eternity before I realized what had happened, a plane had been flown into the World Trade Center. I watched in awe, waiting for answers on what had happened. Was this an accident? Was this an intentional attack. "Surely not, this is America after all." I remember thinking that. Clear as day. Then I watched in horror as the second plane hit the second tower. I heard Megan move in the next room and went to get her. I told her what was happening to the best of my ability and had her come into the living room and watch the news reports with me if for nothing else but to confirm that I was actually seeing and hearing what I thought I was seeing and hearing. For the next couple of hours I sat in front of the television somewhat in disbelief of what I was seeing. I saw the report of a plane hitting the Pentagon. I heard about Flight 93 in Pennsylvania. I still kept thinking "This can't be happening. This is America. This can't be happening." Eventually I embraced the fact that it was happening and my life was still happening and I had to go to class. I dressed and walked to the bus stop where for the first time no one was talking to one another. The bus ride from West Ashley to our downtown campus was silent. When class started our teacher, Mrs. Hawkins, first asked us if there was anyone in the class who had family members in New York or Washington that they couldn't get in touch with. She then told us that if we felt like we needed to go home we were welcomed to but she had a bit of advice before we made that decision. She said that while these events were tragic and mind blowing, she thought that the best thing to do was to keep going on with our lives. To help each other by keeping ourselves busy. To not let these people, these wretched and frightening people who were responsible for these events, to have the power over our lives that they were trying to take. We could do this best by going on with our lives and while not disregarding what happened or acting like it didn't happen but instead using it as a reason to go on, show our strength as Americans, show that they could not cripple us or disable us. She was a wise woman. So I stayed. Class ended early that evening and I think I got home by 6:30. My new boyfriend and I went downtown just to get out and walk, be where other people were, people who were sharing our fear and disbelief. Something about staying at home that night seemed so stifling. That night a place that was usually alive and full of tourists on vacation was empty. I remember most walking down King Street and for all the world it looked like it was 2:00 in the morning instead of 8:00 pm. Shops were closed. The sidewalks were nearly empty. Signs were posted in doors alerting customers who weren't even there that the owners and staff were taking the time to be with their families and pray. It was a strange world that evening. One with so much uncertainty as to what was going to happen next. Would there be more attacks? Where was there 9 left to try and attack? Would we go to war? Who on Earth were we going to fight if we did go to war? What happened? Today I pulled out the journal I started the day I moved to South Carolina and had to flip only a couple of pages to find what I wrote that day.
"I'm scared to death. There's been a terrorist attack on the World Trade Center & the Pentagon. Both of the World Trade Center buildings have collapsed. There's no telling how many people are dead and I haven't left the apartment to see how everyone around here is reacting. But, I'm so scared. I'm afraid that there's going to be a war. I'm even more afraid that it's going to be on our soil. Around us. I really wish I didn't have to go to class. I'm just so scared of what's going to happen."
9 years later, at the age of 27, I don't think I would react any differently than my 18 year old self did. I still pray for our country. I always will. I will not ever forget.
"Time Does Not Change Us.
It just unfolds us." - Max Frisch
Below I offer you almost 3 years of my life. When I moved into my house in 2005 I designated one room in my house as a "craft room". I painted one of the walls with chalkboard paint with the idea of jotting down ideas and sketching out patterns. Instead it became a place where my friends left their mark with chalk.
Every couple of years I erase it and start over but before I do I take pictures of each message and picture so that I don't lose the love and laughter that was left in my home just for me. Here I will share with you 2 years worth of visitors. Some of them will never step foot in my house again but, in retrospect, each one left a bigger mark on my life than they did on my wall.
Below I offer you almost 3 years of my life. When I moved into my house in 2005 I designated one room in my house as a "craft room". I painted one of the walls with chalkboard paint with the idea of jotting down ideas and sketching out patterns. Instead it became a place where my friends left their mark with chalk.
Every couple of years I erase it and start over but before I do I take pictures of each message and picture so that I don't lose the love and laughter that was left in my home just for me. Here I will share with you 2 years worth of visitors. Some of them will never step foot in my house again but, in retrospect, each one left a bigger mark on my life than they did on my wall.
These messages are from my awesome sisters in law. They came to visit me before we were married, before I even had an engagement ring. This is a testament to how wonderful his family is though. They embraced and accepted me as part of their family from the first time we met.
This is from one of my sister's ex-boyfriends. He came to my house one Christmas for dinner with the family and got wrangled into installing my wireless router. I guess it took a while.
I had a party once. I can't even remember for what. But this is from a room mate of my other sister at the time. Moe is awesome.
I think this is from the same party. A friend brought his friend Dirk and at some point in the night we ordered a pizza. The first number we dialed was incorrect and the person called back. This is how Dirk answered the phone.
My awesome sister.
I'm not sure which child drew this awesome Christmas picture but it's a treasure.
Before my Hubby was even my boyfriend and before I ever met his friend Mike I started keeping score of things we knew. I got this point for knowing that "nabs" is a southern term that refers to snack sandwich crackers. More specifically, cheddar crackers with peanut butter filling. This is still the score.
I think this is from my other sister, Tabitha. If it's not and you lay claim to loving me, let me know so I can give you credit.
This is from one of my cousins. Either Ian or Ryan. I'm not sure which one. I'm not sure if it's grammatically correct or if it's even all in the same language. But what do I know?
Either Heather or Tabitha. It's a heart full of siblings. It makes my heart smile.
A bad series of dates. However, that bad series of dates is partially what led me to realize that I was head over heels in love with the man that is now my husband. So I appreciate that bad series of dates.
Tabitha went to Canada for an internship shortly after she wrote this on my wall. She was gone a couple of months and then came home but there was never any chance of forgetting where she was while she was gone.
My adorable friend Kayla. She's the daughter of a friend and co-worker of my parents. My mom says that she's just like me when I was younger. I hope Kayla takes that as a compliment. I do.
My godson's mother marked his height at the time of their visit. He's 4 now. Amazing.
I think I drew this. This is the extent of my artistic ability.
This is my most cherished message. My Aunt Sherri left this one at my Mom's 51st birthday party. She passed away the next April after fighting breast cancer like a champ. I won't erase this one. I can't. I'm thinking of cutting out the piece of wall that it's on and framing it to take with me when I move.
So that's me. Or, 3 years of me. In those 3 years I went from being alone in my home and without a relationship to being married and a housewife. It's been a heck of a ride.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
I Can Can, Can You?
I've had that title floating around in my head for a month. I apologize again for the break. I can only blame my usual 2 excuses - life and laziness. However, today, the dishes are done, the laundry can wait until Saturday, and I am procrastinating the menial chores of dying my hair and peeling pears. What a transition into the purpose of my blog! Pears! I am peeling these pears to make pear butter which I hope to can a LARGE batch of early next week. For those of you who will receive this pear butter for Christmas, be excited, be very excited. Also, be prepared, because the photos in this post do not include pears. They include tomatoes I canned earlier this summer. I realize that in today's culture very few people my age can and preserve their own food. In fact, my husband and my sister-in-law, Briana, are the only "twenty somethings" I know who continue this age old practice. It is my hope that with the current push of "going green" more people will pick up the torch and continue. It's a way of making sure there isn't a waste when you grow your own food. It's a way to support local farmers when they sell their fresh produce. It's a way to reduce household trash and in turn save money as the jars used to contain the food are reusable and they lessen the need to buy canned foods at the grocery store. For me the most important reason for canning is having access to food that tastes, in my own opinion, ten thousand times better than that which you can buy at the store. Below, I will chronicle the process I use to can tomatoes. I use the water-bath method of canning for tomatoes because they are high in acid and quite honestly the pressure function of a canner scares me a little. One day I will embrace it when I am forced to can products which necessitate that method but, for now, I stick with what I feel safe with. Please note, I would prefer it greatly if you wish to learn to can for you to purchase the Ball Complete Guide to Home Preserving for specific instructions rather than using this post. It's a matter of food safety and I don't want to be responsible for your botchulism in case I leave something important out.
I began this journey with tomatoes.
I began this journey with tomatoes.
LOTS of tomatoes! My Grandaddy provided all of the red ones. We grew these little yellow beauties!
They're called Yellow Jelly Beans, a sweet variety of grape tomato that I am still gathering in mass quantities, sometimes up to 50 a day. You may notice the "x" marks at the bottom of each tomato above and below.
I do this because I have to prepare the tomatoes. I take out the cores, any "bad" spots and bruises, and then I mark the bottoms with an "x". This helps me when I take the skins off. From this point I quickly blanch the tomatoes and then submerse them into an ice bath. The "x" lets the steam and hot water get under the skin so that I can slip it right off after the blanching process. The comes the jars.
It doesn't HAVE to be a Ball jar. It could be a Kerr. It could be a Mason. There may be another brand but I don't know about it. However, what is more iconic than a glass jar. They are used for more than home canning. Some people drink out of them. Some restaurants use them as their primary drink vessel. Then again, so do moonshiners. Not that I've ever drank moonshine or know where I might be able to find it or know people who may have made it. Not me. Not ever.
So after preparing the jars, making sure they are clean and sanitary, I stuff all of the tomatoes I can into each jar with some salt and citric acid while leaving proper head room. If you need a technical description of head room please refer to the book I recommended earlier. The end up looking kind of like this.
All of those red tomatoes filled up 5 quart sized jars. All of those yellow tomatoes filled that one little half pint jar. Amazing, huh? They'll be spectacular when the weather gets cold and I have no options for home grown delicious flavor packed tomatoes. Then I follow the instructions in the book to process them. For water bath canning it takes approximately 90 minutes in boiling water. Believe me, it warms the house up. It's a shame you can't can in the winter. I suggest having some lemonade nearby during this process. It helps cool you down. The upside is, if you need a facial, just peek in on the jars. The steam does wonders. Anyway, this is what they look like when they come out.
Then you wait. Within 10 minutes you will start to hear the most glorious noise. Pop, Ping, Pop. Those are the seals. As the jars cool on the outside, the tomatoes inside are still raging hot. The gap in temperature causes suction and all of the air is forced out and those little seals just suck in and make a wonderful noise. The one you hope for and dream about. Maybe it's not that revolutionary to you but it is to me. Just try it once, you'll share in my joy.
Gross Out Alert and Side Note: To those of you that watch True Blood - look at the red tomato jars. Do they not slightly remind you of the jar of "Talbot remains" that the King of Mississippi carries around? Maybe it's just me.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Meat Muffins
Thinking back on my choice of title, maybe that doesn't sound so good. Then again, it's an attention grabber!! Anyway, today we will focus on the ONLY way I will eat meatloaf. Historically speaking I am an absolute meatloaf hater. However, a couple of years ago my daddy was given this recipe and I totally LOVE it. I felt that I should share it for all of you other meatloaf haters out there. Also, I can see where this would be a great way for parents to hide all kinds of veggies in their kid's food. So for your palate pleasing pleasure I present Bacon Cheeseburger Meatloaf Muffins!
Begin by chopping the following:
1/2 Cup Bell Pepper (I had to use banana peppers, it's what I had)
1/2 Cup Onion
1/2 Cup Button Mushrooms
1/2 Cup Bacon
2 Cloves Garlic
Fry the bacon until soft to render the bacon grease and then add the veggies. You won't have to worry about draining anything because the veggies (mushrooms in particular) will soak it all up. Just tell yourself it's added flavor and deny to yourself that it is added fat. :) Then let that mixture cool completely. Oh, and preheat your oven to 375 degrees. I always forget that part.
Grate a 1 1/2 cups of cheddar cheese. On a side note, this little bowl that my cheese is in is actually the base to my box grater! I bought it at Ikea. It has 2 interchangeable grater plates for feather and fine grating and a lid for storage of leftovers! I only paid $6 for it and I think it's adorable and fabulous. I just wanted to share!
I just realized I should have edited this picture and fixed the white balance or something. Oh well, forgive me. The meatloaf base is:
2 Pounds Ground Beef
1 Tbsp. Brown Sugar
2 Tbsp. Yellow Mustard
2 Tbsp. Ketchup
1/2 Cup Oatmeal
1 Egg
I didn't picture the egg because, well, I didn't have one. It was an odd day in the Wilson house. Just pretend that it's there. Add the cheese, vegetables, and bacon and squish, squish, squish! I find the best way to properly combine meatloaf is with your hands!
Portion the meatloaf mixture into the cups of a muffin tin. I imagine this could be used to make a traditional style meatloaf, but where's the fun in that? Small food tastes better. Small food is already portioned. Small food is cute!
Bake the "small food" for 30 minutes. In the mean time, prepare the sauce!
Whisk together:
1/4 Cup brown sugar
1/4 Cup Yellow Mustard
1/4 Cup Ketchup
Get it as smooth as you can. I can't keep brown sugar completely fluffy because I live in the south and because the south is humid. I even keep it in the freezer. I'm not sure what that does but my mother in law does it and it works better than my canister.
After the muffins have baked for 30 minutes, spoon 1 teaspoon of the topping over each muffin. Place the muffins back in the oven for 10 minutes. Remove from the oven and serve! One of the things that makes me feel better about eating these muffins is that I can see all of the fat left behind in each muffin cup when I serve them. I mean, I know these aren't health food by any stretch of the term but somehow I'm a little comforted when I see what I could be eating but I'm not. But, I digress.
Here's the finished product:
I serve them with green beans and smashed potatoes every time. I mean, what's more American than that? Let me know how much you love it!
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