Taking Time

8/11/2015 0 Comments   His hand curves in mine while we walk.  We stop to find tadpoles and point to orange fish darting under the lily pads.  His mind is full of wonder and he is eager to push his limits and find adventure around every bend.  I am merely here to enjoy him; to be present as he shares his dreams and concerns with tomorrow.  He laughs and demands that we take an 'us-ie'.  He tells me his likes and dislikes, shares with me the times I was too harsh and hurt his feelings.  It's here, in the in between time, that all the truth can come out.  He can tell his story without fear of my response and I am given the unique opportunity to connect, to mend, to heal. I often find myself caught in the busy-ness of the day, my children the common casualty of a life rushing by.  It's easy to miss them as commitments demand more than we have to give.  A quick hug here and there is valuable, but slowing down and sitting on a park bench to find out all the wonders that fill their world is my favorite thing to do.  I love being trusted with dreams.  I love finding out what occupies the mind of my child, and I want to always make time to give him all of me. The only boy of my three, the one who will conquer worlds and subdue foes.  The one who laughs when I act a fool and for this brief moment fiercely believes I am the most beautiful woman in the world.  He smiles a sly grin as we start a Mariokart race, he knows he'll win, but I'll try valiantly.  In this moment of color flashing and noise crashing, I feel his little body warm next to mine and I am fully here, fully with him - loving what he loves.  When it's time to share me with the rest of the family and his arms hold me close, I freeze the dream and pray I'll remember forever this boy who made me a mother.

Tis The Season.

*Photo by the amazing Erica Bartel

We fight desperately for the unique connection that comes with the Christmas holiday.  Imagery and hope fill us, until reality and tension leave us clenching to an ever shortening rope that unravels somewhere between Christmas and New Year.

Chastened to enjoy the moment while commitments and need bang relentlessly at our already overwhelmed door.  As deeply as I long to be present, I equally want to fill my cocoa with too much schnapps and pass out under the lopsided tree.

Pinterest, Instagram, and Facebook show me the perfect skill of my contemporaries, the unrivaled perfection of their all together home and lives.  Their houses decorated with light and charm, their children coordinated and smiling gleefully for the camera.  I trip over legos, scold my children, and bake half burned cookies, the frosting turns to an interesting state of brown after all of the colors are mixed together while my back is turned.

Christmas.  Joy.  Peace.  Harmony.

Or is it Chaos.  Tension.  Stress.

The well meaning will encourage us to enjoy the moments, their pressing guilt fills us with shame that perhaps we aren't valuing the hand holding and joy filled eyes enough.  If you are like me, you cuddled close to whichever sleepy head found your lap in the wee hours when dawn has not fully broken forth and your tree twinkles it's glistening lights, hot coffee in your hand, and this moment is the heart clenching breath of I love you mommy.  Only for the light to break free from the nights hold and suddenly it's shrieks of we're going to be late, get dressed, leave the ornaments on the tree, stop unwrapping the gifts, stop eating the advent candy.

Because life is not a succession of picture perfect moments.  It is in the chaos, the stress, the wild unnecessary pressure that we find little treasures of joy and peace and perfection.   It's while the kids are screaming about hating cutting down the tree that we laugh and run and smile.  It's the memories built over cups of cocoa and weary hearts finding each other in the midst of this ever changing world.  It's laughing at twinkling lights while we drive around in our old car, the heat fogging the windows.  It is the breathless I love you after chase and anger.  It's forgiveness and gentleness.

Enjoy this holiday, your winter season.  Enjoy the perfect in the middle of the ridiculous.  Smile at a stranger, give whole heartedly.  No matter how desperate we are to cling to this season, we will fall into moments of stress, frustration, and guilt.  Let it go.  Breathe deep and look into dark eyes that are pushing tacks into the hot cookies you just baked to take to the dessert auction.  Then laugh and maybe take a sip of schnapps.

Serving My Marriage

                                                                                                                          *Photo by the amazing Kara Stewart

I do not want to be a part of the disintegration of my marriage.

I want to build what I could easily destroy.  Love what I could hate.  Serve when my expectations would want to be served.  Be present when I want to avoid. 

This man I married, may I always love him, encourage, protect, speak well of, give wholeheartedly, demand less, thank more, and always delight and arouse him.

This is my heart as a wife. 

They say it takes two to break a marriage.  I don't want any part in it.  I don't want a list of reasons or excuses.  When he fails me, may I remember his destiny.  Let my words always see ten steps ahead.  I don't want to be a woman pointing at what is before me, but one who reminds him of where he is going.  I don't want a list of reasons or excuses, why I deserve different.  There is no better than what I have.  I promised my life to this union and each day I want to live fully committed to this man.

So when we lie in bed and I remember we haven't taken the kids to the bathroom, I jump up and take them, without pushing the equally exhausted man out to do it for me.  His joy that it's taken care of, is more than reward enough.  Even when it's a close cuddle, kiss in the hair, and half asleep whispered thank you.  He is important and every way I can, I want to show him.

When our children are bickering, let me be the first to put my book or email away and stand to parent.  Despite how easy it feels in a moment to call from the other room.  Even when it feels like what I am doing is more important.  Let me not live fully dependent on him to fix every broken thing, but enjoy that when he is there he is quick to rush to fill any need.

When he acts in a way I don't agree, may I be found silent.  When I need to speak let it be privately with gentleness, love, and encouragement.  Remembering that 'a soft word turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger'.

May I always believe the best.  When I start to worry or doubt, let my heart trust what I cannot prove.  May I push my fear aside, knowing that he is all he claims to be and let my heart rest, believing he is even better.

I want to see the man he is called to be and let him work out his journey while I stand beside cheering him on.  May I never point out his flaws or weaknesses.  Simply call out his strengths, reminding him of his great destiny. 

When he is tired, may I be a place of rest.

When he is hungry, let the work of my hands nourish him.

When he needs me, may I satisfy him.

I have found that the more I pour into our marriage, the more I am blessed with in return.  He is quick to surround and encourage me.  As we strive for the other’s best we each reap so great a reward.  It is not in the desperation of personal need that achieves gain, but the delight in serving what is not asked or expected.  We each are the others best defense and greatest support.

It takes two, but you won't find my hands pulling this apart.  I want to give my life to be the best choice he has ever made.  He is the best decision of my life.  So, when you see me building and strengthening, it is because I'm shoring us up for all the storms that life brings.  That when they come we are safe in a house built on a solid foundation.

Let grace sustain, faith lead, hope direct, and trust surround this tender journey of two becoming one.

Looking Forward

 *Photo by the amazing Erica Bartel

In my life I am being challenged in so many ways to develop my trust in God and understand the fullness of my identity.  As I process all that comes in various waves, I thought I would share some of my thoughts with you.  I hope you are encouraged and that if you find yourself in a similar place you choose to take the leap and live heartfelt in God's hand.  I have learned it is the only true place of safety, though it tends to present as the most terrifying choice.

As I have lost my identity in Christ I have lost my ability to trust my role in every other area of life.  My failures have stacked against me and I have had no where to turn because if I am not rooted and grounded in love then I am bent under the weight of ever guilt and condemnation.  When I am gripped with Christ and all that he has spoken over me - then I KNOW that I am more than a conqueror, I am precisely where I am supposed to be when I am held in his hand.  As I come to this and open to the the ruthless sense of trust I am broken by my fear of the unknown - what if God fails, what if he chooses to break me.

It is this terrible, trembling beauty of unsurpassed openness to both the wonderful and painful aspects of life, that gives me pause.  To accept and receive this allows for all that terrifies me to have place in my life and when I first glimpse the idea, only the evil of fear grips me.  To say yes to blessing and abundance is to say yes to pain and grief.  They walk hand in hand.  Openness to God is not an insurance plan, but a deep fountain of trust that receives everything his hand provides.  It is here I am fully humbled and here that I must completely surrender - not my will, but yours.  He requires all - of the rich young ruler - sell all you have and give to the poor.  He has set a stumbling block before each of us, what we love most and what we fear most.  It is the acceptance and action that propel us forward, this is why it is different and unique to each.  The way to Christ, accepts all he demands and holds openly all that once built like walls around our fragile, desperate treasures.

These themes have shaken me to my core as my fears have presented in harsh realities.  I have been cut to my knees in my brokenness and wanted to give everything up.  Turn, run, hide from what beats in my heart.  My greatest joys are also my deepest sorrows.  The places I have to push through to realize and experience my dreams are like the thorns hiding Sleeping Beauties castle.  They rip and tear me apart, but there is a prize waiting on the other side.  Choosing to step forward in bravery and trust, hoping that what lies ahead is worth all that is stripped away in the pursuit.

I may be fragile right now, but I am walking through a process of strengthening that cannot be undone.  God's goodness sustains me!

Hope Realized.

Hope.                                                                                *photo by the amazing Kara Stewart

It presses and pushes us to go farther, live deeper, see the dreams become reality.  It keeps us from folding in tough situations and gives us the strength to walk faster, go longer.

For years I have wanted a third baby.  I've seen their face and felt as if I was missing something, someone.  I tried to push it aside, but it stayed and often had me in tears, that this person, I felt so strongly, wouldn't get to be.  They would be an idea, a dream, a hope, but never realized.   I wrote about yearning for a baby and many of you responded.  I was encouraged, but also not hopeful.  I had resigned to the realization that we would always be a family of four.

What a wonderful, delightful, fabulous family it has become.  My children are full of joy, love, and adventure.  They are wild and always ready to go for the next journey.  They've dealt well with their gypsy parents and we have enjoyed every moment with them.

Then, when it was way past the time of longing or hope.  When everything was settled and we had reached the rhythm of living, we found that our family of four would really be a family of five.   My first thought was absolute excitement that this person would get to be!  I knew they were supposed to exist and now they are.

Then fear has followed swiftly, threatening at times to rob me of my joy.  Are we really ready.  Oh my goodness, we're going to have another baby.  It feels crazy and scary and wonderful all at once.

We are so far from the stage of having little people.  Our kids are practically adults.  Okay, they're going to be five and seven, but they need so little from me.  They have become my best friends and now we are not just rocking the boat, we are throwing a bomb right into the middle.

I don't know how it is going to look to be a family of five, but I know that it is going to be awesome.  I know that our children will all be loved, adored, valued, and wanted.

I can't believe I'm carrying my third and definitely my last baby, but I am so excited to them to be here.  To welcome them and to see the dynamic joy
they bring to our lives.

Hope, it whispers in our ear.  It murmurs secrets and then, it keeps it's promise and makes all things good.

When Life Overwhelms

Sometimes, life feels so big.  It hangs over us in scary shadows and we look up, hoping for a glimpse of the sun, between the darkened branches.

Heaviness can settle and the tightness in your chest threatens to rob your breath.  Joy is a hope, forgotten.

I feel my fist rising and long to shake it at the sparkling heavens above.  The storm clouds in my mind so big, so dark, so dangerous.

These things come, as they always do, in waves, that pull our legs beneath us, and our faces seeking air.

We cannot prepare for them, only ride them out, in the hope that the next won't carry us under, take us farther out.

I feel this way right now.

It is in these moments, that I am given a choice for my response.

So, often I'll lie under the weight.  Too discouraged or broken to move.  I'll thunder at the heavens and push forward in my stubborn pride.

I'll make things different.  I will fix this world, this life, with my own two hands and I press forward in willful determination.  Only, to find myself back in this place again.

The whisper of surrender sounds like a curse in my ears and all I want to do is rail and fight and triumph.

Each time it comes sweeter, rest, believe, enjoy.  Praise.  Be thankful.

Celebrate.

Even now, I look out and the grass is green, the trees hang their gentle leaves to kiss the ground.  Children's laughter carries with the wind and the call of the bird echoes.

Like Eeyore carrying his storm cloud everywhere he goes, I'm sucking life and joy into my black mood.

It's choices, isn't it.  When it feels as if everything is going to fall apart and truth, reality, and fear threaten our security, we get to decide how we'll react.

Will we fight our way out, curl in a depressed ball, or will we rejoice that nothing lasts forever.  That in the hurt and instability is a joyful hope, a peaceful surrender.

I breathe, and the sweet air fills my lungs.  I raise my hands and whisper a prayer of praise.  That in this, we are made stronger, His faithfulness is not dismayed by our circumstances.  In every moment there is a call to rejoice.

While I cannot control every thing that comes across my path, the realities I am forced to face, and the struggles that demand, I can choose my reactions and in the midst of the storming seas take hope, that there is rest in the bottom of the boat.

Even in this, my love, believe.
Be filled with joy and hope.
Do not surrender to your failings.
Or the voice that steals your truth
.
Fling wide your arms to the heavens.
Feel the scent of a grace filled rain.
Lift praise upon your lips.
Declare my pleasures.
It is more than your desperate plea.

Spring Has Come Early.

Here, now I stand.  I look and survey this life.  It's ups and downs, mountains and valleys.  All of the trials and joys that break and sustain us.  They come in waves.

The last few months have been beyond difficult, they have pulled me to my knees and broken me apart.  It was the grand finale to years of being displaced, waiting and hoping to settle, to find a home.

And home is coming.

I am excited, beyond terrified, blessed, and hopeful to announce that we are finally moving to Redding.  This week.

God has opened huge doors and rained blessing over us.

We are coming home with joy and celebration.

The long season of emptying and loneliness has ended.

Spring has indeed sprung.

I am amazed at God's goodness, his provision.  To credit this new transition to anything other than God's hand is to miss his opulent love, his unwavering faithfulness.

I have walked through the last few years, staring at God's face.  Eye to eye, ear to ear, desperate, hungry, and constantly unsatisfied.

I have grown in my ability to trust.  To rest, when hope has evaded me.  I have learned to let Jesus come close and breathe when my breath has gone out.

The last few weeks, as I have doubted and grown discouraged, I have been faced with a choice; wallow or choose joy.  As I delight in the goodness of God when nothing in life has changed, there is a mighty strength that sustains.  Grace has met me when I was most undeserving.

I am so excited to settle.  To stretch out our roots.  To give my children the joy of stability, the delight of family and friends.

I am terrified to relearn my place here, to find myself, after wandering in the wilderness.

Yet, in all of this, I have learned to walk, hopeful and trusting.  To rest when life comes, to laugh in chaos, and delight in the ache of waiting.

Looking forward to getting some consistency in our lives and sharing with you some of the lessons I've learned over the last four years of hardship and transition.

I may rest for a while.

Blessings to you in whatever season you find yourself.

New Years Day.

Happy New Year!

What an exciting day.  I love the start of the new year, the freshness that comes from a blank slate.  I plot out my goals and hopes for how I want the year to go.

This start is the most interesting I've yet to experience.  My house has been placed in storage, my husband is 4 hours away, and we have no idea what is going to come next.  We thought we had everything lined up and then all of the doors that seemed wide open, shut in our faces.

It's an adventure and I am looking forward to enjoying every moment.  My children and I are up at my parents house, enjoying the fresh mountain air, and the soul cleansing that comes from being in the country.

We have no idea what this year holds, but we plan to find a landing place, to settle, to cultivate deep roots.  There's a lot of blind faith and trust happening in our hearts.

I am not clouding my new year with resolutions.   I don't want to tip the scales toward failure.  I've set some goals that I look forward to reaching and I hope to take you along the journey.  I'll be blogging regularly about health and wellness, reaching goals, posting recipes, and living a rich and satisfying life.

I'm excited for this year and I hope that you are, too.  I wish you well, the fulfilling of your dreams.

Holding Treasure.

I know a secret someone.  A person who has always been a bit of a hero to me.  I met her at my sister's wedding.  She is beautiful, strong, fun, wise, and so incredibly talented.   She is the other Aunt to my nephew and nieces.   Erica Bartel.

Recently she took my family to Half Moon Bay and did a photo shoot with us.  It was amazing.  We went to the Fitgerald Marine Reserve.  It is a must see to anyone traveling through the area.  Filled with twisted trees that lead to a beach wild with tide pools.  The air was heavy with mystery and wonder.  Knowing Erica is a bit like holding seashells in your hand; a polished jewel, well worth the search.

I thought I'd share a little of that outing with all of you.

Sometimes, the Worst.

When everything goes wrong and it's not even 8 o'clock.

That has been my morning.  It really all started at 1am last night.  The moment I laid down and felt the tickle in the back of my throat, that I knew would result in a full blown cough attack.  I blew out a sigh and stumbled to the medicine cabinet to grab a few quick swigs of nyquil.  It's not typical for me to take cough medicine, but I needed the sleep pretty desperately, and I didn't want to keep the entire clan awake through the night.

I woke with the typical full blown hangover of one who has drugged themselves in the name of peaceful sleep.

I mumbled to Eric that I needed coffee and tried to bite back the angry words at the full of sunshine, too happy children that tumbled over my exhausted body.

After an eternity, the smell wafted in before my saint like husband came bearing a steaming cup of my favorite brew.  Thick and dark, everything I needed to help pull me from the haze that engulfed my complete being.

I pushed up against the bed frame and prepared to begin my morning completely right.  Perfect moment, perfect husband, perfect coffee.  It's the stuff that fuels my life.

You know how horrible things almost happen?  You can see the worst and then it doesn't occur and you breathe out a sigh and think how bad it could have been?  An heirloom teeters on a shelf and you manage to grab it before it crashes to a million pieces and you feel that thrill of gratitude and joy that the worst didn't happen?

Yeah.  That's not how my moment went this morning.

As I reached out for my coffee and Eric carefully handed the hot cup into my hands with a paper towel to help catch any little spills. . . My hands shook and it started to splash, I felt that panic, that you feel, when you know it's all about to come crashing around you, but you also feel as if you can stop it.  

I didn't save the moment.

It splashed down my arm and started to burn, then half the cup went over my stomach and the rest of the contents spilled over my mattress, down the wall, and soaked into the carpet.  There was nothing within a three foot radius that was safe.

sigh.

There are days.

There are moments.

I'm on my second cup of coffee.

I feel a bit discouraged and I want to chalk the day up to a waste.

Sometimes nothing goes right and it feels as if you should chuck everything.

I guess this would be where the saying, "toss the baby out with the bathwater" applies.

So, I'm taking back my day.  It's going to be an incredible, wonderful, full of joy, perfect moments kind of day.

I also wish each of you the same.  Blessings and joy.  The fullness of life.  May this day, be a day the Lord has made.  

Coffee burns, coffee stains, ruined moments, discouraged sighs, and frustrations can linger, but they don't have to.

Accidents happen and we each have a choice for how we're going to handle them.  We can allow them to destroy every bit of good or we can shove them back into their place of momentary glitches.  

My morning sucked.  My day is going to be incredible.

Let's get to this.

daughters

Like a fairy she stands, flowers in her hair, mud on her face, tangled hair and dirty hands.  A flower torn from earth, roots shake and dirt covers my floor.  All for the bloom that barely had time to form.

Cherub face stares.  Eyes wide.  "Please stop a moment, and be with me."  Whispers in the silence of a rage I cannot hide.

Things must be neat, houses must be kept, dresses pressed and dainty, floors that must be swept.

She comes to me and haunts me in my day.  Little fairy wonder, longing for me to stay.  To be with her, in moments, when a list demands, I push from these still longings, to fight the demons that reside.

Kneeling to the girl child, that holds a flower in her hand.  I still for a moment.  Let lists fling from my hands.

I cup her muddy face, stare deep into her eyes.  Then I hug her and her dirt, let roots leave their trace upon my shirt.  Flower in it's water, kept inside it's crystal vase.

We laugh in child wonder and I find my perfect place.

Not in lists and laundry, with fat rolls, and with face, I'll be the mother in her memory who loves with desperate grace.

Good Morning. Muffin Recipe.

A few of the glorious things about waking up at 4:30AM.

Lying in bed until 5:00AM to see if there is any chance that you are going back to sleep.

nope.

Write a blog on why diets suck.

Send parents a list of places they can use a senior discount.  Point out that they are eligible for senior discounts.

Lie in bed wondering if you should exercise.

Get up and go on a 3.5 mile run.

Dry brush.  Remember you have a sunburn and that it was a bad idea to dry brush.

Shower, dress, put on lotion and makeup and deodorant, straighten hair.

Feel outrageously accomplished!

Go in the kitchen and create an awesome gluten free strawberry muffin recipe.

Here you go.  The benefits of my early rising.

2 1/2 cups Bob's Red Mill All Purpose Flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon xanthan gum
1/2 cup coconut sugar
2 tablespoons coconut oil
2 eggs
1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup vanilla coconut milk
1/4 cup ground flaxseeds
4 dates
either 1 1/2 cup fresh strawberries or 1 cup dark chocolate chips

bake at 350 for 30 min.

I mixed the flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, xanthan gum.
Blend the flaxseeds for about 15 seconds.  Throw in the dates and blend for just a second, you want some texture in them.  I have a vitamin which makes this super easy.  If your blender can't handle the dates just chop them up.
I mix the coconut oil with the coconut sugar, then mix in the applesauce.
Add flax, dates, coconut oil, coconut sugar, and applesauce to dry mixture.
Mix eggs, coconut milk, and vanilla, then add to the rest of the ingredients until everything is well combined.
Add your strawberries, chocolate, or whatever mix in you feel like.

Bake and enjoy.

Loving every day.

Falling in love.

Before I met my husband I would daydream of the wonderful things we would do together, what our life would look like.  Sipping mojitos at the beach, staring into one another's eyes over a candle light dinner, someone to tie the Christmas tree to the top of the car, holding hands down the street, making a mad dash in the rain and laughing hysterically when we're soaking wet.

Love doesn't really happen like that, and yet it does.  In bits and pieces throughout a lifetime together.  We have had momentary blips of movie perfect romance.  Yet our life is made up of the day to day.  The frustrations of a broken dishwasher, bills to pay, jobs to work, kids to care for.  Our conversations are not unending.  They are not amazing.  There are moments that we could talk for hours, lost in our own little world of togetherness, and others with nothing more than a small recant of the day before returning to our own devices.

At this point in our marriage, every story has been told one thousand times, our kisses are common, our love is quiet.  

We are coexisting.  We don't have a lot of magical, knock your socks off moments.

Our love is steadfast.

We laugh and we talk.  We make dinner and go on walks.  We play frisbee.  We cuddle on the couch and work near one another.  

I remember when I watched other's marriages in this stage and I wondered if they loved each other.  

When the sparks and fire are gone, what's left?  I have found it is a slow and steady burning.  The coals are hot, but the flames are dormant.  

It may seem as if I am making our marriage sound old and worn out.  Yet it is so far from that.  It simply isn't the exciting, heady arousal of new love.    

We have fallen into a rhythm of love.  We know each other, like a favorite sweater that fits perfectly.  We drink our marriage like a well aged wine, slow, lingering, tasting each sip, and savoring the complexities of merging flavors. 

I tend to be the one in the relationship that needs more reassurance.  I want things to be picture perfect, always.  We fight and I wonder if we've lost the love.  We don't talk beyond good morning and good night and I worry we are falling out of sync.  

I get in my head.  And that is the worst place you can go.  You see, your mind will lie to you and play tricks on your heart and emotions.  We could go days with nothing more than a quick kiss on the way out the door and my husband will be perfectly happy.  He never frets about our marriage.  He is in it hook, line, and sinker.  I'm the one wondering when it's going to end.  A heart stretched tense by watching others walk out the door, keeps me from getting too comfortable in any relationship setting.  

It has taken me too long to realize I am the one putting pressure on this to be perfect.  To be movie scene awesome at every turn.  And when it's not, I'm cueing the departure music in my head.  

Because my head is a dangerous place to go.  It turns tricks and breaks apart what I love most.  

Marriage is a beautiful and mighty union.  It holds and teaches, strengthens and grows.  It is also a choice.  Each day you choose to prefer, to love, to give, to nurture, to sacrifice, to enjoy this life side by side.  It will take chunks out of your dreams, the illusion of a life together.  Until you realize that in its imperfection, its boring day to day, there is astounding beauty.  There is strength like iron, gut wrenching joy, peace, mercy, a grace you didn't realize you deserved or were capable of giving.

Don't let go, if you wake up and look at your spouse, remembering the person you fell in love with and wondering where they went.  Don't feel discouraged when the weight of life crushes and grows you.  Each day you choose to walk hand in hand, to not falter when the other falls, to not give up when they look away, to not judge when they lose hope, to love fully without worry of return.

Love.

It is the beautiful irony of time, holding two together, while everything desperately tries to tear them apart.

                                                                                                 

Amazing Spaghetti Sauce.

Desperate for an awesome, easy, healthy dinner that will thrill everyone in your family?  Kid's included?

I am happy to announce that this is not just wishful thinking.  

First, this is my mom's spaghetti.  Not my mother in law's.   My amazing mother in law is the only one with the true Italian touch, and Uncle Jim, and Auntie Sue, and Lori.  It also wouldn't be called spaghetti.  It would be roni's or gravy or cavatellis.  When I'm looking for comfort food, however, I want something from my Californian childhood




.

It amazes me that my kids will eat this with zucchini noodles.  Since I have yet to order a spiralizer, I simply use my vegetable peeler.  It works great.  

~Recipe

1 red bell pepper

1 small yellow onion

4 cloves garlic

2 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 1/2 lbs ground beef

1 can diced tomatoes 

1 can tomato sauce

1 can tomato paste

8oz water

3teaspoons salt

3teaspoons garlic powder

1teaspoon cracked pepper

1 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

1/2 teaspoon dried basil

handful of fresh Italian parsley

Chop.  Mince the garlic, yellow onion, bell pepper, and parsley.  

In a larger pan, sauté the garlic, bell pepper, and onion in 2T olive oil, on high heat, for about two minutes until veggies are just starting to get tender. 

Mix in the ground beef, stir to incorporate.  Lower heat to medium/high and cook beef until there is no pink, about 5-7 minutes.

Add salt, pepper, oregano, basil, and garlic.

Then add canned tomatoes, sauce, paste, and water.  Let everything boil on medium/low for about five minutes.  Throw in your parsley.  Mix together.

Lower the temp to lo, so that it barely simmers and leave it alone.  :)

After a few hours, you can skim off any fat.

I like to make this in the morning and leave it just barely simmering all day long.  It's an easy meal for Eric to put together when he's home with the kids.

The sauce is great with pasta.

However, we have found that our whole family loves it over zucchini noodles.  With this recipe, I will usually shred about 6 zucchinis.  If you aren't used to raw zucchini noodles with a hot sauce, you should know that they will sweat and your plate or bowl will get a little soupy.  

Choosing to Not Give Up.

Does it ever amaze you at how easy it is to feel less than?  How quickly worthlessness can wrap itself around your neck, until you are gasping for air, and your vision begins to fade to black?

My emotions and well being are so closely tied to food.  I have to carefully protect myself from the foods my body craves.  This weekend I enjoyed a little too freely and it has taken me until today to get back on track.  This can feel so discouraging.  I found myself wanting to massively limit all food.  To cleanse, to reset.  It seems the easy response.  However, having struggled with eating disorders in the past and wanting to protect myself, from any in the future.  I need to remember the importance of being okay with myself.  I thought I would share a few techniques for getting back to a healthy lifestyle if you find yourself wandering off course.

-Drink water.

-Eat fresh.

-Start your day with breakfast.  Some do better with eggs, I like to stick with fresh fruit.

-Don't skip any meals.  If you feel as if you have eaten too much, maybe cut back on snacks, but eat your three main meals.

-Watch your self talk.  You are not a failure simply because you indulged in garlic fries at the concert.  Okay and a milkshake with fries after.  (hmmmmm.)   Next time simply plan better.

-Don't jump on a diet simply because you made some bad choices.  May I just say I was researching diets last night and thinking about it still this morning.  As nice as it would be to do a quick cleanse, the results are never healthy or sustainable.

-Do NOT fast.  It's the quickest way to binge.  You can and need to eat at least three meals a day.  It's healthy.  It's good.  It's loving.  Take care of yourself you are worth it.

A healthy lifestyle takes practice and determination.  Each time you feel like you lost it, remember you are that much closer to achieving your goals.

Sticking with a healthy lifestyle isn't the easiest thing.  It is definitely one of the hardest things for me.  But, giving up isn't an option.  I may not be as good at it as most, but I have a history to overcome.  Each meal, each choice, takes me closer to my goals.

I'm not giving up and I hope you don't either.


Easy Tossed Salad -recipe

2 cups fresh spinach
1 cup chopped carrots
3/4 cup chopped sugar snap peas
2 vine ripened tomatoes chopped
a handful of kalmata olives
handful of green olives
two tablespoons of fresh chopped basil

Dressing
1/2 cup olive oil
3/4 balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper to taste
blend in blender

Drizzle about 1/4 cup of dressing over salad and toss.  Enjoy.

A Good Nights Sleep

"MAMA!  CAN YOU COME CUDDLE ME?"

I stumble blindly through the dark room, down the hall, banging toes and elbows into various obstructions that magically appear in my path come night.

I fall into the twin bed shoved perilously close to the top bunk, somewhere between cracks and blankets, bodies find my warmth and cling.  They cuddle in, put their faces on my face, their heads on my shoulder.  My arm will fall asleep.  My back will ache.  I will be elbowed or kicked.  I will wake at one point to drag myself back to the comfort of my own bed.  Where I will snuggle in to the warmth of my husband.  Until once more my dreams are broken by, "MOM!"

We will repeat variations of this scenario through the night and for all the nights going forward until we don't.  I won't notice it ending.  I may mention that I slept all night without my kids waking me.  Without a little body tumbling in to my bed, to squeeze between my husband and me.  I'll tell someone how great I feel getting a full nights rest.  I'll brag about how big my kids are now that they don't need me as often.  They're getting so big, I feel so relaxed, how grateful I am for sleep.  The monsters will have become less real, the need for my protection will wan.   It will be so subtle.  I won't notice what I'm missing.  I'll realize how good it feels to get a little of my freedom back.

I won't notice until they're grown and I will wonder where all of the time went.  How could it have passed so fast.  It's hard to treasure the pain that comes with the joyful innocence.  The loss, of being 100% depended on, to no longer being needed.

When you give birth, you lose who you were, in one huge, sweeping, cataclysmic birthing of another life.  There is blood and agony, flowers, tears, joy, and then the shocking emptying of all you knew before.  Then so very, very, very slowly you get yourself back.  It comes in waves, in milestones, in teetering steps, in whole nights of sleep.  Each bit of yourself, of your former freedoms, is like an old friend.  The sacrifice, is watching the life you birthed become fully capable.  It is a beautiful heartbreak.

There are times when little arms cling to me, when eyes close in sleep on rosy cheeks, when I whisper a hopeful prayer, to never forget, never let go of these moments.  That the timeless scatterings of memories will hold close and bury themselves in my heart, for always.

Because one day, I won't be called to cuddle.  And I will weep for the times I hold, right now, in my hand.

YOU can STOP a BINGE.

Stop that BINGE!

You will hear from countless sources that you can stop a binge by changing your thoughts, identifying your emotions, busying yourself, but for those of us in the cycle, we know that stopping a binge is much more difficult.  First, I will tell you that you can stop a binge, even if you're in the middle of it, even if you're at the beginning of it. You can stop it.  You can, because you are powerful.  You are not subject to food.  You are a beautiful, vital person with value and worth.  Because of such, you need to know that you are worth enjoying what you eat.  You are worth the weight on your tongue, the taste in your mouth.  Chocolate is not a demon.  It is not an evil monster that will destroy you.  It can be enjoyed, pleasured, felt.  When you eat the bag, there is not any savoring or enjoyment.  The hard chocolate that you chewed through, tasted like plastic, it didn't melt or drip down your throat.  You are worth that feeling.

If you want to know the secret to stopping a binge, it is that you need to understand how you will approach your next binge.  It's understanding how food affects you and creating weapons or tools for how you will demolish the need to eat until you can't feel.

You stop a binge, before it even starts.

Drink water.  Drink and drink and drink and drink and drink your water.  I cannot stress this enough.  If you tend to overeat, if you don't know when you're full, if you tend to binge, you need more water.  It will help you feel full and satisfied, long before you would normally stop eating.

Eat fresh fruits and vegetables.  When you approach any meal or snack, make sure you have something fresh on your plate.  Put some of your favorite things next to some carrot sticks.  Eat some veggies, eat your treat, then eat the rest of the vegetables.  It helps you to get the taste out of your mouth and the fiber fills your stomach.

Go in to each day knowing your worth.  Just because you struggle with food issues doesn't mean you deserve to struggle with food.  You have value.  You are important.  You deserve to enjoy every meal, every bite, every day.  You are worth a life without fear of the next binge.  Don't worry about if you binge.  You aren't worthless, stupid, ugly, fat, or a monster.  Those are lies.  You can live without bingeing, but as much as you have to let go of fear, you have to let go of the negative self talk.  If you binged and you want to tell yourself how you'll do better next time, how you won't let this happen again, how if you were stronger, better, etc you would never have let it go so far.  Just stop.  If you are caught in the cycle of binge eating, realize that you have to do something different.  Instead of telling yourself you won't do it again, acknowledge that it will probably happen again.  Every time you lose it and turn to food, remember you are that much closer to freedom.  Instead of thinking of how fat and ugly you feel - look in the mirror and tell yourself you are beautiful, you are strong, and you are free.  Let that flood through you, while your stomach feels as fat as a tick and you think you are going to explode.  You are valuable.  You are important.  You are getting through this.  You will not get stuck here.  You will make it.  But, in the middle of it, you are okay.  You are not defined by overeating.  It does not rule you.

Get rid of all the junk food in the house.  Everything that gets you started on a binge.  Just empty it out. Even if you have kids or a husband that loves those foods.  They probably shouldn't be eating them anyway.  Load up on the fresh stuff.  Make healthy eating a part of your family and your life.  Everyone wants to be healthier, make it your goal and mission to impart healthy habits to your family.

Exercise!!!  Go on walks.  Go on runs.  Work out at a gym.  Practice yoga in your living room.  Feel your body get stronger.  Breathe deep.  You are releasing healthy endorphins that will help you,  the next time rummaging through the cabinets feels inevitable. 

Journal, write out how you feel.  Make it a habit to start your day listing the things that you are grateful for.  Talk about what's bothering you.  Find a constructive way to process through your thoughts.

I tend to overeat when I am bored and overwhelmed.  When there is so much I need to do, that I can't see a clear way of how to tackle it.  Lists tend to exacerbate that feeling.  I make a goal each day of what I want to accomplish.  Instead of cleaning the whole house from top to bottom.  I shoot for just cleaning out one closet, wiping down the walls in the hall, I go small and then feel the pride and accomplishment of finishing a minor chore.

Some do best when they don't weigh themselves.  If this is how you feel or if you are aware that you have an unhealthy obsession with the number on the scale, it is probably best to get rid of it.  Just smash it to bits.  If weighing yourself sets your emotions for the day, realize you are not valued by a number or your weight.  Who you are, is more valuable and more beautiful than a number could ever tell you.

Vitamin D.  I need massive doses of vitamin D, every day.  I take 5000mg a day and when we lived in a more overcast area, I needed 10,000mg.  Monitor your body and always talk to your doctor before taking any supplements.  I just know that I need more vitamin D than most and it dramatically effects the way I think and feel.

You can stop a binge.  You can and will make it through this season of your life, BUT more than that you can enjoy this time in your life.  You don't have to be afraid of a binge.  You don't have to live in fear.  It's okay if you binge.  It's okay if you struggle.  You are not defined by binge eating.  Take yourself out of the equation.  Learn to love you.  It is the best and most important thing I can tell you.  Love yourself and talk nice.

Living with Food.

We all have a relationship with food.

Regardless of whether you could label yourself with an eating disorder, if food makes you anxious, if you feel guilt when you eat, if food brings you pleasure, if you diet, if it's a way to show you care, you have a relationship with food.  We all eat and live with varying degrees of satisfaction, pleasure, guilt, or shame for what we've put in our bodies.

In overcoming eating issues, I have had to learn to accept food.  You cannot abstain from food as you would alcohol or cigarettes.  Food is not something to be worked off.  It is fuel for your mind, for your muscles, for your soul.  My body, especially my mind, is incredibly sensitive to what I eat.  If I consume gluten or processed foods, it sends instant messages telling me I need more.  It doesn't matter how long I have abstained from those foods, eating just one bite sends my mind into hyper drive and I will make myself sick before I stop eating the oreos.  Because I know this, I am responsible to do my best to eat the foods that fuel my body, without making me desperate for more.  

I choose to eat mostly raw, fresh foods.  I am not a big meat eater, because I don't have any desire for it.  I fuel myself with fruits, vegetables, and nuts.  I cannot diet.  Dieting has always been an excuse for me to binge.  When I come to a meal, I do my best to be grateful that I can enjoy healthy foods and I settle myself in a place to enjoy each bite.  Food is both nourishment and pleasure.  If you are eating with guilt and shame you aren't enjoying anything you put in your mouth.  I can't tell you how often I would sit in front of the computer reading health blogs, while shoveling a pint of ice cream in my face.  I didn't taste the treat, felt sick when I was done, and more than a little guilty.  Now when I choose ice cream, I like to make it myself, with young coconuts and agave nectar.  Then, I sit with my family and eat out of the bowl, interacting with them and enjoying my treat.

I have been starting the last few days with a big cup of coffee, my favorite thing, and fresh fruit until noon.  I try to drink a cup of hot water with lemon before my coffee, but that doesn't always happen.  I have been drinking lots of water throughout the day.  The other day I spent the whole day out with different friends.  I was not in control of my food choices, so I did the best I could.  Even eating mostly fruits and veggies, by the end of the day, the processed foods I had consumed had my mind imagining all of the other things I could eat.  "Well, I already had chips, a little ice cream won't hurt. . . "  

Knowing this to be something I have to work through I brushed my teeth, drank some water, and bugged my husband until he connected with me and helped keep my mind off the monster in my head.  

I don't like to say that I will never eat certain foods, or label my style of eating.  A few of the hardest things when learning to eat well are being okay if you mess up and not allowing that to mean you fell of the wagon, because you aren't in a wagon in the first place.  I'm not a raw foodist, vegan, paleo, etc, etc.  I'm just trying to be healthy.  There are times I need a treat.  There are times that I will indulge.  Eating and connecting are beautiful parts of life.  They should neither fill you with shame, regret, or fear.  They should be enjoyed and embraced.  

I hope to encourage everyone out there, whether they have ever had issues with food, have felt uncomfortable in their bodies, or not known when to stop; what true freedom with food looks like.  It's more yeses than noes, more pleasure than pain.  

We all have to live with food, let's enjoy it.

An imperfect life.

I am a wannabe perfectionist.  I like the idea of doing everything perfectly.  I like order.  I like things to be exactly correct all of the time.

I find that I am often obsessing about how to pull myself more completely together.  How I should be better.  How I should actually stick to those lists I love to make.

In reality, I am shamefully imperfect.  I try.  And try.  And try.  And fail.

Then I feel discouraged and sad.

I really ought to be better.  But, I'm not.

I should admit here that I find the post "Messy house, but we have love, laughter, life" - thoroughly annoying.  I know that's' not exactly how it goes, but you get the drift.   I like a clean house with love, laughter, life.

I have two children.  I am a stay at home mom.  This is very feasible.  Yet, I've found that very often I am pushing my children away so I can clean.  I'm working so tirelessly at something that really doesn't matter that much.

I know it's not perfect, but I've let my house go.  My husband is amazing, he simply smiles and tells me it looks like a lot of life has been lived in our home.  And it has.

We live.  Sometimes it's perfectly clean, but usually there is a line of toys from one room to another.  There is a stack of books that need to be mended and there is always laundry.

I am not perfect.

I'm not even a perfect mom.  Sometimes I get frustrated.  I have found it's easier to react than teach.  I try very hard to teach.  Sometimes I react.

When I go out, I look like a mom.  There are moments I look like a woman, but mostly it's just this mom look that hangs like a shroud.

I probably would have been mortified when I was 14 or even 21 to know that this is what I would grow in to.

I should probably be mortified to admit to you that I like me.

I like my imperfection and my messy house.  I like my kids with watermelon dripping down their chins and running to give me hugs when they're dripping wet and I'm not.

I want to be perfect.  I'm not.

I guess I'm embracing my imperfections.  Enjoying the moments of my life that grab and shake and rattle me, until I can't breathe, then collapse in the aftermath.

This is not a giving up.  Rather it's the freedom to fully enjoy this masterpiece of a life.

I don't like failures.  I would rather be imperfect than worry about failing.

My perfect little ship has sailed.  It was never really mine to begin with, just the illusion others used to whisper in my ear.  But, they are long gone and now it's the dawning of a life lived with handprints on the window.

Cause really.   Who got time for that?!

Making a Change.

I sat out, under the pomegranate tree the other day.   It was early morning and the air still held the chill and mystery of the night.  I held a hot cup of coffee, laced with cream.  My children sat in front of  me, bowls of oatmeal, just the way they liked it.  One with sucanot and milk, the other raisins and milk.  They took small bites.  I leaned my head back enjoying the moment.  The calm before the rush of the day took over.  Then it came, more suddenly than I expected.

"I don't want to eat anymore.  I just want to drink coffee, like you, mom."  Judah stared at his bowl as if it had suddenly landed from the moon.  His spoon dripping clumps of oatmeal back into the bowl.  Disgust lined his face.  

I didn't know what to say.  Obviously my example was wrong and I was setting it deep into the still permeable stone of youth.  

I hate breakfast.  Really, I do.  It rarely fills me up and I find that I'm still starving at twelve.  I just don't want to teach my kids that coffee is the way to start their day.  

I'm not vowing that I will eat breakfast every day.  I am going to try.  Today was the first and I managed to wait on my coffee and eat a whole bloody egg.  Thanking God for his bounty and praying my heart would shift.

You see I am not a good example in regards to food.  I don't mean to be, but I have my own issues handed down from my parents who received the same from theirs.  It's a complicated generation of eaters I come from.  But, I know one thing for certain.  I want to hand something better to my children. I want to teach them to enjoy, to eat to satisfaction, to appreciate what they are given.  I just wish it didn't have to start with me.  That somehow they could come to this on their own and I wouldn't have to undo thirty or so years of eating disfunction to teach them something better.

I am going to try.

I am quickly discovering that I am something of a closet eater.  I almost never sit while I eat.  I pick while I make my children plates, then I assist them through their meals, eating when they're finished.  I should admit that at this point I'm rarely picking on a salad, rather I'm munching a handful of corn chips, while I clean up the kitchen.  Or I'm too full from taste testing dinner to eat at the table with my family.  A glass of wine is probably not what I want my kids to think makes a healthy meal.  I eat, though.  A lot.  They just don't see me eat.  Okay and I do hide in my room with the door locked eating a bowl of ice cream while scouring the internet.  Hmmm.  Time for a shift?  I should say so.

In every way, except hiding with my bowl of ice cream.  If my children knew how many treats that I eat every day, they would refuse to consume a healthy morsel of food ever again.  Some things are better kept in hiding.  (yes, I know nothing is ever really secret)

Food is important.  Meal time is a special place to pause and enjoy while hearing all about the thoughts and dreams that run rampant through my children's minds.  It is a ritual that I want to train them to value and appreciate.  Learning that they are important and how they fill their bodies is an essential key to long and healthy life.  I know too much about health and nutrition to not hand my children the same keys, the same road map to success.  With it, I'll have to sacrifice my own bad habits, in pursuit of teaching them to love and value themselves.