Taking Stock

I’ve been fighting the winter blues for weeks. January is notoriously hard but this year probably takes the cake. Lots of looming questions about the future, short days, cutting out sugar; it can make everything feel terrible so quickly. The fog and damp cold gray days feel like a wet blanket clinging to everything and my tendency to brood has obviously gone into overdrive. After yelling at EVERYONE this morning, even the poor dogs didn’t escape my fury, I realized I need a new perspective. As soon as possible.

So I cleaned my carpet and washed my windows. Two things I really didn’t want to do, but when I finished it felt like I’d scrubbed away a little of my bad attitude.

I went to bible study. I didn’t really want to go. But I went and I was encouraged and listened to and I noticed I felt a little better.

We talked about being grateful. About saying thank you and making that the focus of life…not all the stuff that makes us feel bad or consumes us with worry or draws us away from the truth. And the truth is that God is love and He never changes that way.

So I’m wrestling with that, wondering how to change the way I think and drinking a cup of tea and listening to Mumford and Sons. Little by little my life is coming back into perspective. Just a little.

Today I’m grateful for a clean slate to start over. For random phone calls from my husband and texts from friends. For the peace lily on my kitchen counter and the sweet toddlers sleeping cozy in their beds.

When I take stock in my life, I am overwhelmed by its goodness. And I feel sheepish for being so cranky. Here’s to holding onto a simple truth: gratitude beats out brooding every time.

I figure I have 10 minutes max before my dilapidated laptop crashes on me, but one of my resolutions this year was to write again and four months into the year I haven’t done a thing.

I decided my desk in the kitchen is no longer good inspiration. The debris from daily life is too distracting. So I unplugged and went outside. I even took a picture for proof…or maybe as a reminder to try this again another day.

A mom at preschool drop-off this morning asked the ever-loaded ‘what are you up to these days?’ question. Why does such a simple question feel like a punch to the gut some days?

‘Just momming,’ I answered casually.

But it stopped me in my tracks. What am I doing these days? Mothering. Cleaning. Pushing swings, wiping butts, countertops and toilet seats. Driving my car, reading stories, cooking food, saying no, saying maybe, doling out timeouts, jobs, discipline, hugs and kisses.

Also, I’m working out. And as I was running today, the thought occurred to me that for literally six years to the month my body has been working hard at sustaining other people’s lives. I have literally been pregnant or nursing with only a tiny 3 month window from January 2008 through January 2014.

And when my body was working so hard during that time I was proud of it. All those flaws that bothered me faded to the background just a little bit. That stuff that eats at me when I look in the mirror and echoes in my brain; it was just background noise. I had this intuitive respect and kindness for my body. It gave me three precious babies and I fed them with my own body, watching them grow and thrive. You can’t hate yourself when you have such tangible proof of its usefulness.

And then that season came to an end. As it was supposed to. My baby and nursing years are over. And I’m all wrapped up in relief and grief. What is my purpose now? Of course it’s to continue mothering…

But I am connecting how much I appreciate the feeling of my body at work. And so instead of growing babies, I’m hitting the pavement. Slogging along, huffing and puffing, feeling equal parts deflated and elated as I compel my body towards strength, resilience. The soreness in my legs and the burning in my lungs, pushes all those thoughts into the background. Those flaws melt away just a little and I’m simply me. Breath in. Breath out.

All to say, I’m not really sure what I’m up to these days. It’s a loaded question. Surely the sweet spot of balance is out there somewhere, maybe I’ll find it this year?

This and That

I wake up on Mondays and think ‘this is the week I’m going to get organized…slow down…set time aside to read, cook, finally build that marble run for Jack…’

HA.

Even though none of that is happening, other really good things ARE.

Game after game of Spot it. Bike riding in the driveway (because we’ve had exactly one skif of snow this year). Chocolate chip cookies. Trying out hot yoga. Attempting to pitch crap from the garage, my closet, the ridiculous amount of toys in the basement.

Just regular life stuff.

I have a regular column in our local magazine and before the archives get so old I can’t reference the recipes anymore, I thought I would link to a few of them:

Balsamic Roast Beef

Cinnamon Rolls

Cheese Tortellini Soup (which I think is posted somewhere on the blog already…)

 

I’m also reading a really good book. Actually, I guess technically I’m re-reading it. It’s called Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist. I loaned it to a friend and she ended up ordering me a new copy because she splattered so much stuff in her kitchen cooking recipes out of it. The pages are dog eared and starting to stick together. A small group of my girlfriends started a book club/dinner club based on the book and it has been SO fun. We cook the recipes from the book, drink wine, talk late into the evening and even though we are as different from each other on paper as can be, we are finding so many lovely connections.

 

We had our first lazy weekend in months and I actually woke up this morning refreshed. We went to Lowes and Costco as a family, watched football (go Seahawks!), the boys skied a half day on Sunday and Scarlet and I vacuumed out the car and went to the library. Seriously, it was awesome. We need more of that margin in our life. I know we do and I know I am responsible for creating that space in our family, but it just doesn’t come easily.

If I had any new year’s resolutions this year, it would be to create margin. To learn to say no. To be ok with home and the occasional bout of boredom. To turn off the TV, Instagram, Facebook more often and open a book, the window, my own brain on a regular basis.

So that’s what I’m thinking about these days…more food (duh), more books, more time as a family. Less other (even the good other).

How about you?

 

 

What a Difference a Year Makes

One year ago today I was hugely pregnant, on my due date, adrift in every emotion possible.

Today, my baby girl wore jeans for the first time, took 7 steps in a row and is currently screaming indignantly from her crib over the injustice of having to take a nap.

To say that the tail-end of my pregnancy with Scarlet was torturous would be a compliment. It was a distinct time in my life where I truly felt like I was wrestling; wrestling with expectations, my worries, hopes and fears and certainly in my relationship with my Creator.

As September has come around again THIS year, memories and emotions have flooded back to me. While wrestling isn’t comfortable, its agonizing really when you’re in the thick of it, it’s also sacred. And I’m grateful for that sacredness.

While I feel bittersweet over my last baby turning one I am marveling at what a year it was. A blessed, challenging, holy, amazing, sanctifying year.

 

Kitchen Captivated

I think I’ve professed my love for cooking and eating enough times on this blog that you all know that I like to…well…cook and eat. All that cooking and eating opened a fun little door and I’m now writing a regular column for a local magazine in my hometown. It’s small potatoes for sure, but it’s a fun project for me that I’m really excited about.

My first column was published a couple of weeks ago and I wrote about my newish obsession with grilling pizza. Seriously, it’s the best.

So, if you have a minute, check out my column here and the next time you’re in the mood for pizza, try this recipe:

Pizza Dough

• 1 cup warm water
• 1 ½ tablespoons honey
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 ½ teaspoons salt
• 2 2/3 cup bread flour
• ½ cup whole wheat pastry flour (can be swapped for bread flour)
• 2 teaspoons dry active yeast (or one packet of yeast)

Combine flour and salt in a small bowl. In a separate bowl, dissolve yeast in water. Let stand for a few minutes while the yeast activates. The yeast is ready when it gets frothy and bubbly. Add dry ingredients, oil and honey. Stir the dough until ingredients combine, then knead on lightly floured board until smooth and elastic (about 8-10 minutes). Form the dough into a ball and place in a greased bowl. Cover the bowl and let rise until doubled in size (about an hour).  Divide the dough in half and using a rolling-pin, form the dough into two 12-inch circles.

My most favorite toppings are simply garden tomatoes, fresh basil, a little garlic and mozzarella. Nothing beats that combination and on the grill, the tomatoes soften and roast perfectly.

To cook your pizza, heat your barbecue to 500 degrees. Use a pizza stone or pizza pan to cook your pizza. You can use a cookie sheet, but it doesn’t work as well. You can also cook your pizza directly on the grill. Simply place your rolled-out dough directly on the grill, cook on one side for about 2 to 3 minutes, flip, add your toppings and finish cooking for an additional 5 to 8 minutes. Most pizzas will cook on the grill in about 10 minutes.

When your pizza comes off the grill, top with freshly chopped basil (doesn’t matter what kind of pizza you’re making, the basil will up its wow factor by 100 percent). Every spring, I buy a couple of basil plants at the grocery store and plant them in a pot on my back patio. All summer long, I’ve got lots of basil on hand for pizza, salads, pesto or whatever I’m making.

I’m a little bit in shock that August is just a few days away. It doesn’t seem possible July has come and gone so quickly. I think a few more pizzas on the grill are in order.

Date Night

I really love date night.

I just do. I love to put on lip gloss and kiss the babes goodnight and head out the door.

It’s weird. I get mom-guilt about (a lot of) random stuff, but date night just isn’t one of them. I wish we could do date night every week.

What I really like is bad selfies taken in a restaurant. But we’re on a date! So we had to.

I really like the smirk on Aaron’s face.

I love him. Lots.

Thank goodness for date night.

 

Squeemish

I don’t think I’ve ever watched an entire episode of Fear Factor (remember that show…wait is it still on?). Even Grey’s Anatomy can be a little gross for me. I don’t mind blood, as long as it’s a run of the mill scrape or bruise. Don’t get me started on broken bones, weird rashes and hacking coughs. Oh, and I really hate puke. Like, really hate it.

This does not bode well for motherhood.

I probably should have thought that through a little more before having three kids in rapid fire succession.

Luke woke up a little pale and slow-moving on Sunday. We pushed ahead with getting ready for church until we saw his waffles again. My darling, fearless, completely NOT-squeemish husband took one for the team on that one.

Lu layed around like a limp noodle the rest of the day and then seemed fine. Until today, when the other half of his digestive tract decided to rebel.

In a decidedly violent and surprising way. On the carpet.

Oh parenthood. You humble little devil.

Enter super hot, super helpful, completely wonderful, calm, amazing, (did I mention handsome?) husband who shampoos the carpet. Oh yes he did.

And I know I’m a ridiculous cliché right now. But I don’t care.

He and all his barf-catching, rug-cleaning glory are mine all mine.

Life With Littles

I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time jumping back into this space. I want to write about the kids and mothering and all the wonderful little things going on…but something holds me back, it feels suddenly sort of vulnerable, when it’s never felt that way before. I don’t know.

***

I’m reading a book on nurturing boys and another on breaking the bonds of entitlement. That should give a window into what goes on behind closed doors. I’m craving wisdom and knowledge and as many resources as I can get my hands on these days.

Today the boys played outside, rode bikes in the driveway and we made a trip to the park. We did a few counting worksheets, we watched a little Curious George, we weeded the garden and they made a huge mud puddle while I chose to look the other way.

But they also unloaded the silverware from the dishwasher and got their own shoes and cups of water. They picked up sticks for me in the backyard, fed the dog and I even had Jack help me pick up dog poop. I am refreshed and thankful for their help as the evening winds down instead of exhausted and a little frustrated. They were so proud of themselves and I was legitimately grateful.

I think the books are helping.

Scarlet is in my most favorite baby stage ever. Happy, interactive, yet mostly immobile. She is moments away from officially crawling. She can sit up from a laying down position and has started to try to pull up on things. She is endearingly sweet and even a little silly. She LOVES attention and will screech and squawk at you from across the room until you acknowledge her. She has a beaming gummy smile for just about everyone.

She turns into a screaming tearful mess when she gets overtired. We are learning this the hard way, pushing her happy self to the brink of exhaustion. We pay for it ten fold at 3am, so we are trying to be more aware of her need for sleep. Ironic that I never would have let Jack or even Luke skip a nap or stay up past bedtime. Poor third child.

***

I’m not working much these days. A little freelance project here and there, an article in our local magazine and that’s about it. It’s weird how this was always what I was striving for and yet as I step farther and farther away from ‘working’, I realize just how how much my identity is attached to working. Which is laughable because my ‘career’ isn’t much to write home about to begin with.

Anyway, all this to say, there’s been a lot to think about. Shifting my perspective and opening my mind and heart in so many new ways. How to raise boys…shoot how to just understand boys a little better. How to mother to the very best of my ability. How to let go. How to embrace and celebrate each new season of life.

We had some family photos taken a couple of weeks ago in honor of Aaron’s grandmother’s 75th birthday. They make me laugh and smile for a 100 reasons, but mostly because I love that we finally have a (decent, non-hospital room) picture of the five of us. Our completed family. It makes me happy every time I look at it.

Is This Thing On?

tap tap…cough…ummm…hi??

That perfect storm of lack-of-sleep + busyness + three small children + freelance work (i.e. getting paid to write things) = no blog (oh and no dinner, or laundry or general hygiene, but that’s sort of a given right?).

And then that stupid thing happens where once you go a little while without stopping for a few minutes to document the everyday, the little joys, the hard stuff, a good meal…it all blends together and nothing stands out.

That’s the thing I love about this little space, it makes me take note, it helps me remember.

Anne Lamott wrote a beautiful essay last week where she quoted a line by Barry Lopez: everyone is held together by stories. That is all that is holding us together, stories and compassion.

I loved that statement. I think that’s why blogs and facebook and instagram are so popular (addictive?). Little stories that bring us together, shining a little light into each others life.

So with that little burst of inspiration, I’m back. Rusty for sure. But back.

A story from today not to be forgotten:

Jack and Scarlet sit on the carpet in the tv room. The windows and sliding door are open, sunshine is pouring in. Jack grabs a book (about drag racing of course) he got from the library yesterday, scoots to sit directly in front of Scarlet and begins ‘reading’ to her. He carefully turns each page, pointing out objects and telling her all about the cars. He goes through a stack of books as she watches completely enthralled with her brother.

Time Management (or lack of)

Unstructured days are kind of my nightmare. Leave me with hours and hours of free time and I can guarantee you I will spend it twirling my hair, eating snacks and thinking all about what I’m going to get done (without ever actually accomplishing anything). Give me 20 minutes and you would be SHOCKED at what I can get done.

Am I the only pathetic person like this? (actually I know I’m not…I come by it genetically).

Combining my stellar ability to procrastinate and long days with small children and it can be tough for everyone. Winter and being cooped up left me feeling a little like a hamster on a wheel (some days I still do) and I know the boys were/are bored and agitated.

But here’s the even dirtier truth. I suck at playing. I do. I cannot get lost in an afternoon of super heroes and legos and matchbox cars. My brain just can’t get there.

Add to this a desire to do a few ‘learning projects’ on off-school days led me to create a routine for our days. It’s flexible, but on my chalkboard in my kitchen I have goals I want to accomplish with the boys every day.

excuse the terrible handwriting…I also come by that genetically

Ok. So this routine really helps me give the boys my undivided attention. It also helps us to work on numbers and letters, play games together (Uno, Chutes and Ladders, Candy Land, Memory, the occasional iPad game), do play dough or a craft and get the heck outside.

I am not perfect at this every day. But to have my chicken scratch writing in LARGE print staring at me all day holds me accountable.

I added baking because its something that happens around here a lot, but I’m not very good at letting the boys help me with. (The mess!) I also added chores because we are working on personal responsibility.

I wish I could write about how easy and happy and wonderful it all is. Truthfully, it’s a work in progress. Mostly for me…to be patient, kind, generous with my time, energy and encouragement.

We really do have a lot of fun together, but it’s always so hard to paint an authentic picture of our days. I want to remember what these days of raising little people was REALLY like. It’s this complex jumbled up mixture of happiness and tension, bliss and frustration….getting lost in a moment and counting down the seconds until nap time. It’s so very good and downright hard all in the same breath.

But a routine…oh a routine, it’s exactly what this procrastinating sleep-deprived mama needs (and so do her kids).