tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61256245482780706972024-03-14T00:11:18.126-05:00PeDiddlePieRandom garble from a working mom with strong opinions and a need for therapy through writing. Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.comBlogger207125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-55278091518821882112016-11-11T15:26:00.001-06:002016-11-11T15:26:15.835-06:00My Abuser, My President <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My voice is white, female, middle class American. My voice is educated, privileged, heterosexual, cisgender, Southern, Christian, and young. That is the only voice I have, so as much as I want to use it to represent black, Latino, LGBTQ, and Muslim Americans, it can't. I can stand in solidarity and use my privilege to help make a safe space for those conversations. That's all. It feels like screaming into a void anyway, except for an occasional echo of rebuke, shame, and condescension. If that's the response my voice gets, can you imagine what others are experiencing? <br />
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Logic often fails during periods of grief, so I hesitate to make the connection I'm about to share. I pause and think about whether it really links up. We can all be a little dramatic when we're upset. I feel threatened, isolated, ashamed, devastated, angry, guilty, and indignant. These emotions don't produce objective calm thoughts. Donald Trump is going to be our president. I've been told by multiple people that it is disrespectful and hateful to label those who voted for him as racists, misogynists, and/or bigots. I changed my tune to one of condescending mercy to the point of only some of his voters being vile but the rest being motivated possibly by fear, anger, religion, frustration, ignorance, brokenness, and hurt. We too, can love the sinner, hate the sin, right? There wasn't any room in my brain for a good, loving, compassionate, fair, sane, whole, confident, strong, intelligent human being voting to elect this man. That is a fault of mine and I'm on my way to making space in my heart for this truth. I'm always saying that the world isn't black and white and people who act like they know all the answers are wrong and delusional. I haven't gone that far in my indignation, but I've definitely claimed to know this is the WRONG answer. This article is really helping as I read it, refuse to believe it, read it again, and repeat. <a href="https://www.currentaffairs.org/2016/11/what-this-means-how-this-happened-what-to-do-now">https://www.currentaffairs.org/2016/11/what-this-means-how-this-happened-what-to-do-now</a><br />
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In the meantime, I'm still reeling. Did you, pioneers of the civil rights movement, stare in disbelief as your own loved ones threw rocks at children on their way to school? Do you, families of remorseless sexual perpetrators, think that your loved one is well? Do you, brother and sister Arkansans, get sick to your stomach when you drive through Harrison and see KKK funded billboards and then worry if you offended a hooded one with your disgust? Have you, fellow liberals, watched friends and family who are poor, uninsured, uneducated, and economically hopeless rail for the past eight years against Obamacare and economic and social policies that seek to aid them first and above any immigrant then tried to give rationale, statistics, and historical data, only to come to the root of their problem which is that Obama is a black man? It's confounding.<br />
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The longer I sit with this unease, the more despondent I'm becoming. I deactivated my Facebook account to protect myself and others from my temper. My words should be contemplated and careful. This is where I've painfully settled from my own lived experience. America, you elected my abuser. I am one in four. I stand with one quarter of women in our country who were sexually abused as a child. I was four years old, I was five years old, I was eight years old, nine, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, and then I became a liability. My step-father sexually abused me for the majority of my childhood. He was acquitted because the court didn't believe my testimony; the mixed up, fearful, traumatized, and innocent recollection of a six year old girl. My mother sat next to him. I eventually lied to a judge and told him I made it all up so that I could go home. He believed that. When I did get back home, the abuse continued. I tried to tell my mother, but she didn't believe me. I learned to use it to my advantage. If he was in a bad mood, I'd let him do whatever he wanted while I pretended to sleep so that he wouldn't be mean to my little brother and sister. I signed an affidavit when I was 17 swearing that he didn't do these things so he could get a job with state government. When I was 24 I told the truth again so he wouldn't get custody of Freddie. When my attorney asked me if I wanted to press charges for the years of abuse after his acquittal, I said no. My dad would have dated me too if he hadn't been my father, but since that wasn't acceptable, he took advantage of me instead.<br />
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It's taken a complete reformation of my heart, mind, and soul to become a feminist. To become a Southern, white, female, Christian feminist. I want better for all of us. Trump is a man who blames victims, marginalizes and objectifies women, and accepts and perpetrates the abuse of womens' bodies. Electing him as president is a nationwide endorsement of this mindset and behavior. He represents a lot more reprehensible behavior to people with other voices. This is what he deeply and personally represents to me. My dad makes a lot of money, he is successful, he is smart, he is mean and petty, he's easily jealous, he's brazenly honest but funny. He is a deeply broken, perverted, sick, sneaky, intelligent, narcissistic man. His word was believed over mine. I'm drawing parallel lines here, do you see them? <br />
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There's no point in putting all of Donald Trump's quotes here because they obviously don't make a difference. I'm trying to process the "Trump Vote = Molotov Cocktail at the Establishment" theory. I haven't yet gotten over how someone could sacrifice the safety and security of so many others though. Trump has said that you have to treat women like shit, he refers to women as pigs, he has sexually assaulted women, he degrades women based on their appearance and their bodies, he bullies and intimidates women, he cheats on women, he feels allowed to grab them by the pussy without their consent because he is a star. Plenty of men say and do these types of things, the awful ones. Donald Trump may not be a child abuser. He would probably want you to use your 2nd Amendment rights to shoot anyone who harmed you or your child. The point is that girls will be looking into a world where they have to grow up to be a "10" if they want their president's respect. Little boys will hear his words and as much as you teach them that consent is mandatory before sexual contact, their president doesn't need it so why should they? Abused and assaulted women will watch their president blame them and belittle them as if their clothes, their profession, or their sexuality are a non-verbal indication of consent, "Oh, I bet she's never been grabbed before." This is at the heart of <u>my</u> story and hurt. I won't tell anyone else's story because I've lived my own. My grief is valid and I refuse to continue feeling guilty and ashamed for how I feel. Your grief is valid and you aren't alone. Right now, half of my country looks like my mother the day I got up the nerve to tell her the truth and she grabbed me by the arm and threw me in the floor in front of my dad and said, "Guess what your daughter just said?" Half my country wants pancakes and to go to the movies and the mall, so I'll lay here scared and naked and close my eyes and pretend to sleep while he touches me. <br />
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Here's the deal though. I forgave him. My faith gave me the strength to do that. I won't hold that burning coal in my hand. I love him for all the good things about him, because the rest of the time he was just my dad. He wasn't only a monster and nothing else. Neither are you, America. Trump, you aren't just this and I will forgive you. My dad is also the man who gave me my education, my work ethic, and my ambition. I'm working through this. Despite my forgiveness, I set boundaries so he couldn't hurt me anymore. Eventually, when my kids came into the picture, I had to build a wall (can we get a little levity here). Some people may find themselves on the southern side of my wall, but most will find themselves in here with me despite our equally unapologetic stances. We are all going to need each other because even though you sat next to my abuser, you are a victim too. Just as my mother was. I love her so much and now that I'm grown, I don't blame her and I can see so clearly why she made her choices. She made a sacrifice for what she believed to be the greater good. She refused to see or process the bad in him. When she couldn't deny it, she weighed the cost of the alternative. She took his verbal, emotional, and physical abuse too so that her kids could grow up in a nice house, have groceries and decent clothes, go to good schools, and have a nuclear family. It worked for awhile, but eventually it all crumbled. We'll all have to be here for each other when it crumbles or we'll congratulate you fire-setters when it turns out the sacrifice was worth it and we are all prospering. I'll be manning the special tent for the wounded, the hurt, the left-behind, the abused, the marginalized, the dead, the grieving, and maybe our country will experience true grace and they will forgive us. <br />
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Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-87098143763940953732016-11-10T16:07:00.001-06:002016-11-10T16:39:58.312-06:00Love the Sinner, Hate the Sin - Trump Supporting <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Q: I'm a strong <strike>Christian</strike> Human and I have some friends that I thought were pretty cool, but then I found out they are <strike>gay </strike>Trump Supporters. How can I be a good friend and witness to them without condoning their lifestyle or being a total jerk? <br />
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A: That's a great question. First of all, let's remember that casual friendships are fine, but there will always be a boundary between you because <strike>Christians</strike> Humans aren't to be yoked with unbelievers. (Random Bible Verse Condescending Chapter 2:22) Keep your deepest friendships with people who support your faith and uphold your values.<br />
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The next important thing to remember is that you can be honest about your beliefs. It isn't offensive to tell someone in a kind way that you love them as a person but you don't condone their lifestyle choices. The Bible is very clear about <strike>homosexuality </strike>bigotry and its status as a sin. You can love your <strike>gay </strike>Trump Supporter friends as valuable children of God but hate the sin itself. <br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Some people will try and convince you that being <strike>gay</strike> a Trump Supporter isn't a choice, that they are uncontrollably compelled to feel this way. They'll argue that it can't be a sin if they were made that way. You and I both know that God is loving and He would never intentionally create someone to be an abomination. We all have a choice. Many pastors and theologians believe that if your <strike>gay </strike>Trump Supporter friends simply abstain from acting on their sinful desires that they aren't actually engaging in the sin of <strike>homosexuality</strike> Trump Supporting. You could talk to your friends about how they got into the <strike>homosexual</strike> Trump Supporter lifestyle and see if you could help figure out what led them astray. Maybe if they abstained for awhile and tried a relationship with <strike>the opposite sex </strike>people who don't watch Fox News, they would discover that they really are normal and go on to lead a happy life.<br />
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Finally, remember that it isn't our job as <strike>Christians</strike> Humans to judge or condemn. Set the best example you can, love the person, share the gospel, be a light in the darkness. God will separate the wheat from the chaff. Their sin of <strike>homosexuality</strike> Trump Supporting is no greater than your sin of anger or a sharp tongue. The best thing your <strike>gay </strike>Trump Supporter friends could do is repent of their sin and walk a righteous path. That option won't look very appealing to your friends if you rebuke them harshly. Be strong and remember that you aren't alone. It's ok to stand up for your faith and speak out against the sin of <strike>homosexuality</strike> Trump Supporting. Remember, you may be in this <strike>world</strike> f#%$ing country, but not of it. <br />
<br />Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-329642601629593772016-07-21T17:14:00.002-05:002016-07-21T17:14:58.963-05:00Gratitude and GuiltEveryone knows that gratitude is good. Especially when you are an incredibly privileged person, and I'm not talking like filthy rich or social royalty. I mean when you are white, when you live in the US, when you have food in your fridge, a roof over your head, nobody shoots at you on a daily basis, bombs aren't going off in your neighborhood, your daughters can go to school, your sons aren't forced into becoming child soldiers. You know, basics. <br />
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I've been looking up articles about this very thing. The real sciencey ones are about how narcissism and entitlement prevent people from feeling or expressing gratitude. The millennials talk about the feeling of indebtedness that comes with accepting favors, gifts, and "blessings" from others. None of that really applies to me. Those aren't my gratitude struggles. When I was younger, I struggled with contentment and that still raises its ugly head from time to time. Gratitude should be the healer of discontentment though, right?<br />
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The mom blogs focus on how when we stop to feel grateful that our kids are healthy, we start feeling guilty for yelling at them. That one is a little closer to home. Yes, I purposely combat discontentment with self-inflicted guilt. So what your skylight leaks and there's a hole in the garage ceiling where your bestie fell through the attic? You have a house that's warm and safe, you ungrateful twit! See, that's hardly productive. This naturally progresses into marring my attempts at real gratitude. Contentment and gratitude aren't the same thing. Think of contentment as a decision and gratitude as an emotion. I combat thoughts of not being good enough, not doing enough, not working hard enough or efficiently enough to accomplish everything that I want. That is my discontentment and it isn't material or monetary. It's relentless ambition being opposed by physiological hurdles beyond my actual control. That's something I gotta see my therapist about, and I do! <br />
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What am I even getting at here. Okay, so the purpose of finding real gratitude is not to talk yourself out of being ambitious, but to honor and appreciate and even acknowledge the things that are right and good in your life and your world. Unfortunately, I conflate the two on a regular basis. I find myself using guilt to convince myself to be content with what I have. Then I turn around and try to be grateful for what I have and then start to feel guilty that I have those things at all. Why doesn't my child have cancer? Why can I afford this organic milk when so many others can't afford a pound of rice? Good grief, my mind is mad house prison! <br />
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I have to change my mind about what gratitude is and what value that state of mind holds for me and my family. Gratitude born of guilt will never build true empathy for suffering. Gratitude forced by comparison will never breed compassion. It paralyzes the kind and hardens the hearts of the privileged. True thankfulness is fleeting, momentary, unannounced, and beautiful. All the crap about your gratitude journal and meditating on your blessings is complete bullshit (unless of course it works for you and then I'm super happy for you and keep doing it). You aren't "blessed" because you're thankful for your blessings and you won't get less blessed because you become entitled. The world isn't fair and equal, it doesn't work that way. Also, if you go around telling people how blessed you are, they will hate your face. What you and I are is lucky and that's about it. <br />
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The practice of gratitude is being present. How many times a day can you say that you are present, physically, emotionally, and mentally? When are you not running through the list of everything else you have to do or clicking through your mental notes of what you're supposed to be thankful for when you are really mad or anxious or discontent? That's why those moments are fleeting. I've found gratitude to be a spiritual experience for me and I hope so much that some of you feel it too. Some are quiet moments and some are crazy ones, where something just hits me straight on in the chest with an overwhelming soul crushing realization. It sits on me and yells, "This is my life, these are my people, I'm here by some cosmic force, and look at them, they are beautiful!" Sometimes I get chills, sometimes I get all choked up and teary eyed, and sometimes I freeze in hopes of letting the moment linger. When I find those moments fewer and further between, I know that something is closed. I'm letting my stress, my guilt, my discontentment, my lack of presence or something get lodged into all the nooks and crannies so there's no room for gob smack moments of debilitating gratitude. One happened the other day at the neighborhood pool. The way the sun was going down and the color of my baby girl's strawberry blond hair and Freddie's swimsuit on backwards and my husband's stupid waterproof earphones so he can ignore whining children on land or by sea, the families there of all different races and ethnicities. My heart almost kabloomed, which is dangerous while swimming. I can't live like that all the time. My vascular system wouldn't be able to handle the stress. You can't guilt that, because it's real and messy and temporary. You can't bottle it up and put it in a journal because you don't even know exactly what triggered it or what the heck you were even grateful for in that moment. <br />
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Please look for those moments. I can do nothing to affect my gratitude besides being fully present as often as possible. Work on your discontentment, work on your guilt by giving back and engaging in your community, donate to organizations that do great things, volunteer, vote well, read and increase your knowledge. Those things require work. Gratitude requires letting go. <br />
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Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-41856005508645807222015-06-08T09:37:00.000-05:002015-06-08T09:37:06.857-05:00AgainI swear that my life is happy one, filled with funny stories, inside jokes, sunshine, and gratitude. I'm just so emo that I only feel like writing when I'm overwhelmed. Sadness makes me overwhelmed. <br />
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So, we had another miscarriage. Like a traumatic insane situation that has left Jason and me in shock and dismay. See, we had no luck with six months of trying after our last miscarriage. My cycles never went back to normal. My doctor recommended an HSG test, which is done by a radiologist by flushing dye through the uterus and fallopian tubes to check for scar tissue and blocked tubes. It was not a fun test. Then I was informed that I had significant scar tissue left from my two D&Cs and that my left fallopian tube was completely blocked.<br />
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I sat around sad about that for a week waiting to see my doctor and talk about it. My radiologist sucked btw. It seems they never talk to patients and let ultrasound techs click their tongues and make random comments then force patients to sit around in worry and dread while they wait to see their doctor. My radiologist performed this test and didn't bother to read my chart beforehand, because he said, "Eew, it looks like there's just a bunch of scar tissue up at the top of your uterus, I don't know what that's from." Then he wrung his hands and I told him I'd had two D&Cs. "Oh, yep, that's probably what it's from!" Then he flitted from the room like an evil little gnome. <br />
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My doctor recommended a hysteroscopy with a fertility specialist to attempt removing the scar tissue, which may unblock the tube. That was a Monday. Tuesday afternoon, one week after the diagnostic test, I started bleeding. I was talking to a co-worker and suddenly felt like I'd peed myself. I ran to the bathroom to discover quite a bit of blood and decided to go on home because this was odd. I left a message for my doctor and assumed that it was some complication of the test. I sat at home waiting for a call back and took a nap. When I woke up, I stood and gushed again, filling a pad, and I just decided to go to the ER. It was just a matter of fact type of decision. My doctor never called me, but I did get ahold of her nurse once I was in the ER and she affirmed my decision to go. Jason met me there and I had a pelvic exam, blood test, urine test, etc. Everyone kept asking me if I was pregnant, and I kept telling them no and trying to explain that this must have been caused by the HSG test. Not many people, including the ER doc even knew that that was. <br />
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Nope, the doctor pulled back the curtain and said, "Now, I know you said you aren't pregnant, but your urine test is showing positive for pregnancy." I clapped my hand over my mouth and the tears just forced themselves out between muffled sobs. What on earth? How? She gave us some time and I pulled out my phone searching my fertility app for all the dots and triangles that track every stupid spot, period, cramp, intercourse, negative pregnancy test, and cycle days. There was only one possibility. I was pregnant on the day of the dye test and I didn't know it. They purposely schedule it right after your period ends. I had a normal period and on day 8 of my cycle, I checked "No" on the little questionnaire that asked, "Are you or is there a possibility that you may be pregnant?"<br />
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Guilt and horror racked me. Jason is a saint and held in his anger as best he could so that he could hold me and assure me that this wasn't my fault. What kind of sick and twisted irony is it that I would go in for a test to find out why I can't get pregnant and end up endangering and possibly causing a miscarriage of a pregnancy I wasn't even aware of? The absolute worst part, which I know sounds strange, was that an ultrasound showed a gestational sack and a yolk sack. The bleeding stopped and I was sent home with the words "Threatened Miscarriage" printed in bold on fresh white hospital paper. The ER doctor even smiled and gave me a thumbs up as if everything was going to be A-OK. Even their billing person came to collect my deductible and encouraged me to be hopeful. I don't do hopeful. I can be hopeful for other people, but my realism is strong when it comes to gushing blood, radioactive dye, and barely four week embryos. It still seeped in though, like a little infection spreading and multiplying to the point of a spark and little nagging thoughts of "when would I be due?" Damn that spirit, but thank goodness it isn't completely dead.<br />
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We did more blood tests, another ultrasound with no heartbeat, no contact with my doctor, confusion, research, reading, crying, praying, raging, eating, and just trying to understand.<br />
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Exactly one week later (Tuesdays were becoming real winners at our house), I started bleeding again, at work. It was so heavy that I bled through my pants and had to get a co-worker to help me to the bathroom. Someone had to find me scrub pants, but I couldn't get off of the toilet. My sweet Rachel drove to get me since Jason was in parent teacher conferences. The clots were getting crazy. I felt afraid. My doctor got on the phone with me after I told one of the nurses that I was passing cheeseburger size clots. Note to self: code word is cheeseburger sized. She advised me to come to the ER if I couldn't get off the toilet and home. There was no way. I waddled out of the bathroom with a full sized towel rolled up between my legs and scrub pants on and could barely get myself into the van. I wasn't in pain, just out of control and afraid. Rachel drove me to the ER and I left the bathroom at work in quite a bit of disarray. I need to write a thank you note to the sweet nurse who ended up having to take care of it. It was a male nurse. Poor guy. <br />
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It got really scary. I lost track of time. Maybe it was two hours after I got there, but I lost myself. Jason was on his way to meet us and I was on the phone with him. I remember feeling sick and asking Rachel for something to puke in. She left the room either to get someone or something to puke in, not sure which. I drifted off and was in a complete daydream daze staring at the wall. I was numb and nauseous and dizzy. Then I saw her in front of me, snapping, but she just looked like a pretty blur. Eventually, it occurred to me that I needed to respond. When I did respond, I just begged her to find someone to help me. I was terrified. Three people rushed in and put two IVs in at once and flushed fluids through me to raise my blood pressure. I think it was 45/50? Scary. The room was spinning and I was helpless. I came back around with the fluids but then the air was just thick with panic. My doctor was on her way, Jason got there and I guess Rachel filled him in. Unfortunately, it happened one more time with him in the room. He was so scared. I needed <em>another</em> emergency D&C. They wheeled me off with Jason at my side and I was so delirious and still feeling nauseous and like I could lose consciousness at any moment. At least I could recognize that the anesthesiologist was really cute and I remember trying to glance at his left ring finger, for Rachel people, for Rachel! Turns out that I lost four units of blood and my doctor was able to confirm "cheeseburger" sized clots. I spent the night in some random room of the hospital on like an orthopedic surgery wing. Seriously, when are hospitals going to have a women's unit specific to uteruses without babies in them? If I have a friggin hysterectomy someday and end up in oncology, I am going to be upset. <br />
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It's months past now. I already posted on facebook, but the long and short of it is that I can't have anymore children biologically. There's too much scar tissue and even a specialist says there's little to no chance of correcting it, even with multiple surgeries. Forgive me if I don't line up for more uterine surgery. We can't even really make a decision at this point because the hurt and shock are too fresh. Our options are few anyway. I'm 99% not going to try and get pregnant ever again. Both of my fallopian tubes are blocked, but by the slim chance that I could conceive, we have to be so careful. If I were to get pregnant with this scar tissue still in place, it could be another life threatening miscarriage hemorrhaging situation. I am not willing to put my body, my husband, my friends or family through that kind of trauma again. Decisions look like whether we are going to get Jason snipped, whether we will adopt, whether I will try this natural hippie fertility method of reducing scar tissue and then have another dye test in six months to see if it worked, you know, basics. So, we are just sitting. Making no decisions because we aren't trustworthy just yet of making good ones that aren't driven by grief, anger, fear or desperation. <br />
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This was a really uplifting post. It needed to happen though. I'm not even going to put together a rally paragraph for you. I've been typing and saving and waiting for months now, and it was time to post. It's all to get you ready for my next post. It's about how to start a conversation with someone when they need a wellness intervention. Get ready! Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-34227393622302709132014-02-13T17:18:00.000-06:002014-04-12T20:56:50.787-05:00MiscarriageIt's time. I wasn't really sure if I was going to make this a public announcement or just keep it between close friends and family. Today I decided to write about it, because I really need my free therapy blogging tool right now. Today has turned into months of just a little at a time and writing when I get a minute or just feel extra down.<br>
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We found out we were pregnant at the beginning of November, the Tuesday before our 10th anniversary. The next week was sort of surreal. You know, it just takes awhile to really believe you are pregnant. Then I started spotting, not much, just a little. No cramping. My midwife advised to just take it easy, no running, maybe just a walk, don't push myself. I kept spotting for almost two weeks. I called the OB so I could go ahead and do my first visit and do blood work and all that stuff and mentioned the spotting. They said to come in at nine weeks to do an ultrasound just to make sure everything was ok, but no panic. This was all a little difficult to deal with, being a bit of a control freak. Then, the night before Thanksgiving I laid in bed and prayed for God to please take my worry away. I prayed for faith and peace and told God that I knew He was in control and prayed to please help me stop worrying because I wanted to enjoy this pregnancy and my blessings. The next morning I stopped spotting! No more spots. I have not quite found a comfortable way to interpret how that prayer was answered but I have found gratitude for a Thanksgiving with my family that was full of hope and excitement about next year rather than full of worry and fear. <br>
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In the next week or so I found out that a couple I adore was expecting, only two weeks behind me! I had to tell them that we were pregnant too. So exciting! I went in for that nine week ultrasound witha heavy heart though and I remember praying in the bathroom as I changed into the gown. Then it happened. December 13th we found no heartbeat and I only measured at about six weeks. I cried on the table and even in my sadness felt so badly for the ultrasound tech who was powerless to help or even explain anything. We were sent straight to my doctor's office. Here's an excerpt of that experience that I wrote on my phone through tears trying not to look up too often and scare the other patients.<div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div><i>As I sit here listening to the 19 year old high school couple raving about their baby due in June, I wonder why my baby didn't grow. Why did my baby that I wanted and prayed for and tried for stop developing at 6 weeks? The proud 39 year old grandma won't stop talking about their ultrasound. The children are giggling and cuddling and my husband recognizes one since he's a high school teacher after all.</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div><i>Why does my doctor make me sit here listening to them while I wait to schedule my D&C? I'm selfish, I know. This just seems like purgatory. </i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div><i>Thank you, Jesus, I'm in a private room that is much more fitting for the mood. It's sterile and cold with scratchy paper, fluorescent lights, and the smell of hand sanitizer. There are still hints of the joy I should have, but they are fewer and harder to find.</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div><i>Maybe the plea to the nurses helped. "I have thirty minutes to get to my master's thesis defense." </i></div><div><i>[loud gasp] "Oh, let me check!" </i></div><div><i>I was back within minutes. </i></div></div><div><i><br></i></div><div>Let me just say that even in the midst of that bitterness and frustration, I still felt glad for those kids that they have support from at least one mom and that their baby was being celebrated. How many teen pregnancies are mourned instead? </div><div><br></div><div>We had to wait two weeks after that to confirm the miscarriage. I did defend my master's project and that day was so strange. I kept getting congrats Facebook messages after Jason posted about my project, all while on the phone with the few folks who knew we were pregnant, crying. We had to make it through Christmas with family and our kiddos during the two week waiting period. No more spotting, no pain, tiny bits of hope that maybe some crazy crazy miraculous thing could happen and there would be a heartbeat. Two weeks of no running, just in case. Eating, crying, praying, denying, accepting, repeat. </div><div><br></div><div>Then it was the day before my birthday when we confirmed. Most of my tears had been spent by then, so I mostly just felt empty. So strange to compare the feelings walking into the same clinic, getting into the gown, hopping onto the table, and searching the fuzzy screen. I went out to celebrate my birthday with friends and family the next night. Only a few knew, and I had three delicious dark beers. </div><div><br></div><div>It was another week before I had the actual D&C. I lived in terror of miscarrying on my own while also wishing I would so I could avoid the surgery and further damage to my uterus (I had a rough D&C after Charlie was born due to a detached piece of placenta). The surgery went "well" according to my doctor. My recovery was pretty quick. My staff and my boss at work were precious and understanding. Almost no female friend of mine has not experienced this loss. It is pretty ridiculous really. </div><div><br></div><div>I don't know why I didn't talk about it. We asked for prayers privately through the prayer list at church. We cried together. Maybe a part of me didn't want to hear through the dozens of others who have miscarried. I think that a selfish, terrible, shallow part of me wanted to just own this loss and make it mine, nobody else's, unlike any other, mine, worse, more terrible, so sad, and just mine. Another piece of me felt like I didn't want the attention because I know women who have held a stillborn baby in their arms and buried them. I know families who have lost children that were whole, alive, with personalities and little beating hearts. My baby's heart may never have beaten, not even once. Another part of me (so many parts!) felt selfish considering the three beautiful babies I have while I know women begging God for one. </div><div><br></div><div>The best thing that came out of anyone's mouth besides of course, "I love you," "that fucking sucks friend, I'm so so sorry," and "what do you need?" ....I have no idea how to punctuate this sentence from here... was a friend at work saying, "I know this sounds terribly stupid, and I don't mean it like this, it's just that...you just have such a passion for mamas and birth and pregnancy and I just can't imagine how much more fully you will be able to identify with women in all stages of that journey now." </div><div><br></div><div>That was a truth I could use and take hope in and see value in. It made me cry still, but a merciful cry of acknowledging my refinement through difficult experiences. </div><div><br></div><div>I am writing all this and thinking of a way to close. I'm thinking of some justification of why to post it now. In some ways I want to justify the 10lbs I put back on, I want to justify my surly holiday demeanor, my overwhelmed and bitter attitude towards all my mommy duties, my crazy. In some ways I don't want to hit publish. Most folks know we want another kid, but few knew we were really serious and almost did. That opens up the vulnerability. Yes, we know we are nuts, yes we have a small house, we don't make a ton of money, we are in debt, our van has duct tape on it, we need help from family and friends ALL the time, our car has no hubcaps or air conditioner, our children are crazy and needy and wild, and I'm usually a hot bedraggled mess. My argument to that is this, our family is just not complete. God pulls on my heart constantly that somehow some way, our family will grow. Five is not our number, that's probably why we are so off kilter all the time! </div><div><br></div><div>The biggest reason I want to tell the folks who care to read it is that someday we will be expecting a child again, and that's not the first time I want to mention my miscarriage to the grand public. Our loss is important, our loss was bearable somehow, and it was an Allen child that deserves to be loved and honored and mentioned and have his/her own little day in the sun of community acknowledgement. We really figured it would be another girl and secretly, very hush hush quietly we thought about the name Delia June. Delia after Jason's aunt, and June so she would be the most Southern creature alive! A friend from work had a baby girl a few months ago and named her Delia. My heart leapt and sunk all together. Maybe we will save that secret quiet name for another baby Allen girl someday, but if we don't get the chance, it's how I will remember this little one in my imagination. The interesting thing about miscarriage is that it's the loss of all you imagined and hoped for your child. I joked that for a mama, I had already imagined through college, a wedding, grandchildren even! My imagined loss is not different than anyone else's. All loss is unique, complicated, and singular to the one in grief. When we lose someone, we mourn the future we lost with them. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-30563362374355267252014-01-25T20:11:00.001-06:002014-01-25T20:33:52.465-06:00My Tips for Feeding the FamilyI have no clue how most families eat. Seriously, with the cost of food, the stretch factor on our time, picky kids, picky spouses, and just plain mental capacity reached before 2pm each day, I can't imagine that everyone feels like they are succeeding. I don't succeed every day, but I have a system that works for us most of the time. I spend more than ever before on groceries, but it still isn't as much as many families who have shared their grocery budgets with me. We have been buying local too! So, here are my "rules" and tips for feeding myself and these people that live with me. I'll share some sample menus with you another day.<div><br></div><div>Rules and Tips</div><div><br></div><div>1) <b>Always Menu Plan</b></div><div><br></div><div>You can search sale ads first, check out your options for ordering from the Arkansas Local Food Network, flip through your Pinterest boards, whatever you want. Just make a menu for the week, because for someone as fragmented as me, just buying staples and then throwing something together on a whim requires WAY too much mental energy. That can happen at the end of the week when you are scraping through the last of the budget!</div><div><br></div><div>http://littlerock.locallygrown.net</div><div><br></div><div><b>Menu Planning Tips</b></div><div>• Eat less meat! It's expensive, not great for your health or the environment, and did I mention that it's expensive? Save meat for 1-2x a week and use your money saved to buy organic high quality meats and maybe even from a local farmer!</div><div><br></div><div>• Go simple but stay excited. Choose a few stand by meals that are satisfying but simple to prepare with just a few ingredients. Then choose one or two adventurous meals that you could save for the weekend when you have more time. If you get too boring though, it will be more tempting to go out. </div><div><br></div><div>• Be realistic. If your family currently eats out three times a week, don't plan for every meal in. You will have groceries that go bad then feel like you failed. </div><div><br></div><div>• Choose meals that make plenty or can be turned into other meals. Leftovers make great grown up lunches. Chili can become chili cheese burritos or chili dogs or chili Mac (for the kids please!) </div><div><br></div><div>• Have fun! Get excited about eating good, healthy food, watch a documentary or a foodie show first, just to keep yourself motivated. Eat to live!</div><div><br></div><div>2)<b> Always Make a List</b></div><div> • <i>Decide on at least a loose budget if you have that luxury. I think I'll do another post on meal planning on a tight budget. I used to cut all the corners on groceries because it felt like the only financial area I could control. That was a mistake for my family and I hope that mentality in the US will change. Food should be affordable, but not at the cost of nutrition and health. Food should not just be a commodity. </i></div><div><br></div><div><b>List Tips</b></div><div>• Choose a day and time to make your list and menu plan each week. Build it into your schedule so it doesn't seem like such a chore. </div><div><br></div><div>• Write your list aisle by aisle to help save time at the store. I divide mine into produce, bread, natural foods, meat, pantry, frozen, dairy, and household extras.</div><div><br></div><div>• Keep your list posted along with your meal plan on the fridge or somewhere that you will see it. You can add to it or scratch stuff off if you need to. </div><div><br></div><div>• ALWAYS take your meal list and grocery list to the store. That way if something is on sale, you can easily see which meal would be easiest to exchange. Also, the meal list will spark your memory if there is something missing from your grocery list. </div><div><br></div><div>• Oh yeah, and follow it! There is bound to be something you add or decide you don't need, but you made it before the chaos of the store and with a plan in mind. It is doing the thinking for you!</div><div><br></div><div>3) <b>Peanut Butter and Jelly</b>: There is something in every family that will satisfy everyone in case you are tired, your adventurous meal took a dark turn (oh let me tell you some stories about recipes gone rogue), or your meals didn't stretch as far as you thought...OR that your toddler will eat when they refuse to even try the vegetable minestrone with kale! That something, at my house, is peanut butter and jelly and we will always have those supplies in our house. Find yours and prepare accordingly!</div><div><br></div><div>4) <b>Set a Food Goal for Your Family: </b>What do you want to accomplish with what you are eating? Do you want to manage weight, lose weight, gain weight, provide balanced nutrients and vitamin content, eat vegan or vegetarian, clean eating, whole foods only? What's your shtick? I'm not talking about fad diets, but rather the lifestyle choice you are making with your food. This goal will guide your meal plans and grocery shopping. Without a goal, the choices are beyond endless and convenience wins. I have lots of goals and try to manage them together, which is challenging so just start with one!</div><div><br></div><div>4) <b>Have Mercy </b>(cue Uncle Jessie)</div><div>When you go to Little Ceasars instead of making spinach salad and quinoa croquettes (or in my case, in ADDITION to making that because they turned into rubbery death discs), just enjoy it and don't be too hard on yourself. Find some good crock pot meals for soccer night, OR go through the Sonic Drive Thru and make the kids eat in the van and wipe off your popcorn chicken crumbs when you get to the field. I've heard the advice to look at your eating habits for a three day span and make adjustments from there. Do the best you can when you can and give yourself credit when you just can't. </div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-v3gnrOlsqA4/UuR0DWgae2I/AAAAAAAABPo/wQeGtX-w5u4/s640/blogger-image-992965405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-v3gnrOlsqA4/UuR0DWgae2I/AAAAAAAABPo/wQeGtX-w5u4/s640/blogger-image-992965405.jpg"></a></div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-6785811018085784582013-12-03T12:02:00.002-06:002013-12-03T12:02:39.397-06:00Perspective from a Working Mom
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have seen a lot of posts on FB and blogs lately regarding
the plight of the stay at home mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most
are kind hearted and calling for help, understanding, and value for the mom
staying at home taking care of her children every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One blog post even nudged at the idea that
homemaker women have a harder time because our society devalues family,
children, and the ministry of motherhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This issue had not occurred to me, the thought that stay at home moms
may be carrying around a chip on their shoulder because they are told that the
job they do every day is not valuable, not important, and anyone could do
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s because I envy stay at home
moms. Yep, used the wordy derd “ENVY.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m one of those women forced to work outside the home due
to the financial needs of my family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
good at my job, successful in my career, and I love having adult relationships
with my work friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not bitter or
mad, sometimes very sad, but able to appreciate and be as content as possible
with my situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not, however,
fall into the category of women who need and want to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Women who know they are not the personality
type to stay at home and find themselves to be better mothers and wives when
they work outside the home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not get
energy and satisfaction from my work life that helps fulfill me in ways that my
home and children cannot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a
perfectly understandable and right way to be a good mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just doesn’t fit my situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lately, these many posts I’ve seen related to stay at home
moms and their difficult situations have offended me a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have never seen a post from a working
mother related to how hard it is on her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ve never read a blog article representing my specific situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never read a post from a stay at home
mom with empathy and compassion for her fellow mothers working outside the
home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have seen articles on how we
should all support one another and how each role is equally valuable and there
is no one right way to be a good, Christian mother and wife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those are encouraging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are few and far between though.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, I needed to blog a minute about this issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said earlier that I envy stay at home moms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me clarify that I do not have an
idealized version of what it is like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was able to work from home for a year when I had two small children at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I worked 30 hours a week from my computer
with a very tight deadline each day and cared for my home and children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a sacrifice so that I could be more
than just a nights and weekends mom, but it was not a perfect solution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not consider myself a stay at home mom
because while I had all of the expectations of one, I did not have all the
capabilities considering my work schedule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had to trade being either a good employee or a good mom on a daily
basis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got all the poop and puke,
sibling fights, social isolation, meal time messes, grocery store trips,
laundry and dishes, diapers and snot that any other mommy gets while also
fighting a deadline and squeezing every possible working hour I could into nap
time and after bed and the dreaded Saturdays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When given the opportunity for a promotion and considerable raise, I
prayed and sought Godly advice and decided I would be a better mom on nights
and weekends than I was M-F while working.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I decided to give my babies back to daycare and head back to work full
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was terrible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
pregnant with my third baby and facing the horror of leaving another tiny
helpless infant in the hands of a stranger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Honestly, the offended part of me wants to scream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could any woman who has never experienced
this kind of pain ever find it in herself to ask others to feel sorry for her?
(Please keep in mind this is a gut reaction and not where this rant ends!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’ve never sat at your desk with the
door closed praying nobody walks in while you are wearing your hands free
pumping bra hooked up to the moo cow double electric pump while trying to
answer emails and not pick up your phone since the noise is incredible only to
get 2 ounces of liquid gold all the while just wishing you could pick up your
baby and let her nurse but she’s getting bottle fed half formula and half
precious breast milk by a kind hearted stranger or probably a pillow they
propped up in her crib because she’s one of 10 babies in the classroom……um, I
got off track.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If that has never
happened to you because you are blessed with the opportunity to raise your
children full time, then I want to scream and tell you to be grateful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know there are stories on the other side of
this and envy runs both ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I blow
dried my hair today and put on a nice wool blazer from Loft and wore some
jewelry and I will not get pooped or snotted on for 8 hours!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Woohoo!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am a rare bird though, who would rather wipe snot then toil my day
away at a job that has no eternal purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My two year old still cries when I leave her each morning at
daycare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to walk down the long
hallway listening to her scream that she wants her mama.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My older two have started school so I’ve
already missed the remaining time that they were mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes they beg to stay home with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes we do!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still pray to God that I would have the
opportunity to stay at home with them, but He doesn’t see fit to answer that
prayer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though we have two incomes,
I still can’t afford to hire anybody to help around the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Talk about needing help, when exactly would
you expect that a full time working mom has time to do dishes or laundry or go
grocery shopping or cook or vacuum?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Seriously, I don’t understand the seeming lack of alternative
perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We are all trying our best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I also understand that stay at home moms aren’t crying out for a job
outside the home, they are crying out for support and appreciation of what they
are going through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amen to that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are appreciated by this lady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also know that it’s not about me, it’s
about the individual and their needs and their place at the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I’m over the offended part and I’ve moved
into more of the action phase.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My action
is to offer perspective, not comparison, but perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, I live in a social realm where at
least half the folks I am very close with would actually devalue my role as a
working mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Talk about feeling
unappreciated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not filling my
eternal destiny and obeying God’s commandments because I don’t stay home and
take care of my husband and children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
house is filthy most days and I cuss sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The other taboo thing that happens in my house is that I have a
partner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s my husband and he is the
head of our household and I love and honor and respect him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He does dishes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He does laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He bathes babies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He changes diapers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He cleans poop and puke and snot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He keeps kids while I shop and go to the
store and go for a jog and garden and attend church meetings and go out with
friends AND all summer long while I am still at work and he’s on summer
break.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a parent, not a figure
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He does not get to come home and
put his feet up, nor does he deserve to simply because he’s a man and he worked
all day for his family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So did I, so did
you, stay at home mamas!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m sure most modern women don’t live in such a patriarchal
fairy tale, but sweet gracious do I see some delusional ideas out there about
the role of a man in the home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
working mom on earth has ever been given that role just because she brings home
the bacon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not saying to go burn the
recliner, ladies, but I am encouraging a partnership that requires 100%
participation from both parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your
man may be a terrible cook, but he can learn and he can certainly find other
ways to help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It upsets me when men are
allowed to feel like they did their wife a favor when they changed a diaper or
loaded the dishwasher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Same thing when
women think they did a great service to their husband by taking out the
trash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s always something else to
be done and unless you are a puritan pilgrim, there are not gender assignments
on household chores.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t have the
physical strength or infallible gag reflex to unscrew the u-pipe from the sink
to remove butter knives and toothpaste lids from the drain and my husband is
physically incapable of putting our daughters’ hair in ponytails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s ok, we’ll trade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took three children to break ourselves of
these terrible habits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve been in our
house for almost six years and I haven’t mowed the lawn one time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not going to expect a parade if I ever do
though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Basically, I’m saying that being
a stay at home mom or ANY MOM would probably be easier on women if the family
structure was based on a true partnership and help-mate mentality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It kinda makes me want to gag that it’s 2013
and I would still have to beg women to stand up for themselves even in their
own homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not be a good mother
and would never have had more than one child if I were in this domestic
business on my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wait, let me
rephrase to be more shocking and terrible, I would rather be a single parent
than stuck being a mother and caretaker for all of my kids plus my
husband.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am grateful beyond words for
my husband, but not because he “babysits” or helps me with my chores.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am grateful because he is my partner,
friend, spiritual confidant and guide, and co-parent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">It's still hard though. Even though I do have a partner, it is still so hard. We compete over who is more exhausted. He got a second job doing online tutoring to help make ends meet. We miss our kids. Time is flying. I am trying to focus on gratitude though and I don't want anyone to ever feel sorry for me. I have more than half the world will ever see. My children are already blessed beyond measure because they were born in this country. If I fail at everything else, I gave them that. I will not squander my blessings with comparison, worry, self-criticism, or envy. I will empower women, equip my children with gratitude and tenacity, and thank God for a spirit of fire despite a pressing societal demand to douse it with feminitity defined by meekness. That proverbs 31 woman is a bad ass and so am I. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ok, whew, that got intense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So, I just needed to get some of this out because I don’t like being
frustrated just because there’s a lack of perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t like feeling as if my story is
unheard when I’m perfectly capable of telling it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do like writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do like my freedom to have opinions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do like being a mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope that I’m not just labeled a crazy
misguided liberal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not…well, I’m
crazy and pretty liberal, but not misguided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m a feminist who would love to be a stay at home mommy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m a feminist who thinks we should be
teaching our kids to knit, sew, and garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m a Christian who thinks women are abused and marginalized in the
evangelical Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a crazy liberal best friend who comes
and loves on my kids every week and tells me I’m a good mom and although she
never wants children of her own (for now anyway), she encourages me in
motherhood, Godliness, and helps in real physical ways that are
invaluable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My daughter will be
President someday and my son says his favorite color is pink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m a nights and weekends and two weeks of
vacation a year mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get to spend 3.5
hours per week day in the presence of my children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>PERSPECTIVE!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get to spend
those 3.5 hours in a nice home and put dinner on the table and drive a mini-van
with duct tape on the bumper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
blessed and so are you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The chips on our
shoulders are ours alone to remove.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-60690572104654159252013-09-12T09:31:00.001-05:002013-09-12T09:31:13.266-05:00NO PREGGOI had to share the hilarity of my children. Last night was our Women's Bible Study and Kid's Club at church. I go in the gym to pick up the kids and one of the little boys runs up to me and says, "Hey, she [pointing at Addie] said you were gonna have a baby."<br />
<br />
I laugh and said, "No, I'm not having a baby."<br />
Then our children and family minister steps up and asks, "Do you have anything you would like to share?"<br />
Turns out that Miss Liz asked the kids to share a blessing each before dinner. When they got to Addie, she said, "My mommy is going to have another baby soon."<br />
<br />
Well, everyone's face turned and they all just assumed she'd let the cat out of the bag. I had lots of inquiring minds but I assured them all that I am not pregnant. This elicited lots of laughter, some relief, and a few inappropriate comments along the lines of, "Oh good, I was thinking, 'Are y'all crazy?!" I was quick to clarify that we do want a fourth baby someday but that we are not currently pregnant.<br />
<br />
On the way home I asked Addie why she told everyone that I was having a baby. She replied, "Because I want you to."<br />
<br />
Here's how the rest of the conversation went: <br />
<br />
Me: Well, baby girl, I know we would like to have another baby in our family, but Mommy is not pregnant right now. I'm not growing a baby in my tummy so we don't need to tell people that because it might make them sad. <br />
<br />
Addie: But I want you to!<br />
<br />
Me: I know, but I'm not having another baby right now.<br />
<br />
Addie: Why not? I told them you were having one soon, not right now.<br />
<br />
Me: I'm just not, it takes a long time for babies to grow, so I'm not having a baby soon either.<br />
<br />
Addie: [Bursts into sad sad tears and sobbing] I waaant you to right now!!!!!<br />
<br />
Freddie: Mama, why don't you just go home and get married right now so you can have a baby. I want you to have a baby tomorrow. I want a Pokemon baby.<br />
<br />
Me: It doesn't work that way Freddie. Only God can decide when I am able to have another baby.<br />
<br />
Freddie: Why don't you ask Him for one?<br />
<br />
Me: I have and I will keep praying for that.<br />
<br />
Addie: Just roll your window down and ask Him right now!<br />
<br />
Me: [laughing a lot] I can pray without rolling my window down, ya goof.<br />
<br />
Addie: I want a girl baby.<br />
<br />
Me: God gets to decide if we have a girl or a boy, not us. We will be grateful no matter what we have.<br />
<br />
Freddie: Or we'll be grateful if we have two babies.<br />
<br />
Me: [doubtfully] Um, yes, we'll be double grateful.<br />
<br />
Freddie: Oh, Mama, you can get double pregnant. Tomorrow you need to kiss two boys.<br />
<br />
Me: [laughing more, near peeing my pants] It doesn't work that way Freddie, stop worrying about it. Mama will tell you both if we are going to have another baby.<br />
<br />
Freddie: You can kiss Daddy and Rimshot, he's a boy.<br />
<br />
Me: [thinking he may need a better anatomy lesson than I was willing to give a 7 year old] No, humans can't have dog babies. It doesn't work like that. I'll explain more when you are older.<br />
<br />
Addie: We never had a boy baby.<br />
<br />
Me: What did you all have for dinner at Kid's Club??????<br />
Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-55716738034430884152013-09-01T14:45:00.000-05:002013-09-01T16:07:15.054-05:00I'm gonna write that downToday at lunch, Addie asked Jason what he <strong>made</strong> in Sunday school. He replied, "Conversation." Addie said, "Oh, that's good, conversation. You made some friends." <br>
I told her that he also ate some cake. She wanted to know what kind.<br>
Jason replied, "Chocolate ice cream cake with chocolate chips."<br>
Addie said, "Ooooh, that sounds delicious. I'm gonna write that down."<br>
<br>
She is hilarious. So, I'm gonna write some stuff down too. First off, today is September 1 and I ate a CHEESE quesadilla for lunch. I had a whole wheat tortilla with white queso quesadilla cheese sprinkled with a little cumin and some homemade fresh salsa made from my garden tomatoes to dip it in. Now I feel queasy. I'm also nursing a sore throat and overall yuck feelings today, but I will try and blame the dairy for as much as possible.<br>
<br>
August happened. Vegan eating for a month happened. Lots of new foods, recipes, ideas, etc. happened. Four pounds lost and reaching my 60lb mark happened. Now it's time for something new or something old. A friend asked me for an informative post on why vegan. I mentioned watching Forks over Knives and a slew of other documentaries, but if we just need an abbreviated version I'll deliver. So, the stuff that causes exponential cancer growth us omnivores is animal protein. Animal protein isn't only found in meat, it's found in milk, cheese, and yogurt too. I wish we could take butter out of the equation. It's not protein, just fat, surely that's ok! Also, I can't turn away from the incredible environmental toll of the livestock industry. It is destroying our earth. The human population continues to place crazy demands on high yield from the meat industry, causing soil erosion, water polution, severe animal cruelty, greenhouse gas emissions, genetic manipulation, and the eradication of viable farm land. So, organic is good, right? Free range chickens and eggs, grass fed organic beef, and all that jazz. Well, maybe. Maybe is as good as I can get because, first, I can't actually afford to feed a family of five all free range organic grass fed animals and their by products. Second, it's not all it's cracked up to be either. Free range chickens only require a few feet of space to meet the standard while they still get placed on an assembly line and male chicks are shredded up while they're still alive to make our dog food and hot dog fillers vs. a traditional chicken "manufacturer" who hoards hundreds of chickens into a few square feet and they grow into their cages and are pumped full of so many hormones to make their breasts grow that they can't even walk. Hormone and antibiotic free organic dairy cows are euthanized if they have a basic udder infection because farmers can't use antibiotics to heal them or they won't get a stamp on their milk cartons. Things like this upset me. <br>
<br>
I'm not asking or expecting it to upset everyone. We all get through daily life with selective ignorance and denial on one thing or another. I have no idea what small indonesian child probably suffered to make my cheap target sandals. There is no way I could go through all the possible scenarios of how a cow is treated before it becomes a rawhide chew for my dog. I've only started looking at how all the chemicals in my house are probably killing us. Food has just been something that I take such an active roll in on a daily basis, that it seemed a good place to start being socially, economically, and environmentally conscious. We all have our issues we are passionate about. I'm not certain this will become "MY THING" since my thing is already all wrapped up in natural birth! It's all strung together for me though. Making small steps toward a more conscious way of living is how we'll survive another thousand years on this earth without it becoming a real live zombiepocalypse nuclear holocaust hunger games situation. <br>
<br>
K, there's my soap box. I ate cheese today. Just plain old cheese with no fancy labels and it tasted good. I won't be eating it at every meal and I don't know when I'll feel like eating a piece of meat again. I'm only going to do the best I can to reduce my consumption and educate my family so that they can do the same. Maybe a year from now I will have more resolve and higher standards and expectations for myself. I honestly hope so, but I've made dozens of small changes and an entire eating, lifestyle, shopping, environmental consideration, fitness, and outlook change because of these. That's good enough for me for right now. Individual choice is key and I'm proud of any small step I make or you all make in the right direction. Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-30922462003311380452013-08-28T09:57:00.000-05:002013-08-28T18:33:06.781-05:00Vegan Adventures on the Go<div><br></div><div><br></div>It's almost done! My month of vegan eating has not been quite as hard as I thought, but my desire for cheese has reached an all time mammoth sized craving. Some things are frustrating, like that only the cheap white flour brand of english muffins are dairy free AND they contain high fructose corn syrup. The whole wheat ones have egg and milk in them, boo! Also, I don't want to have to shop at whole foods to purchase vegan bread crumbs. Seriously, no brand at Kroger was dairy free. I ended up buying kroger brand shake'n'bake instead because although it had every other chemical known to man in it, no dairy! Issues like that seem to defeat the purpose of eating healthy in the first place, so to sustain this type of diet, I would have to stock a vegan pantry with lots of forethought and planning.<br>
<br>
Here's the other thing that made it easier. I've only eaten away from home a handful of times this month. Once to Pei Wei, where they were incredibly accomodating and almost excited to help me find a vegan option. Once to Panera for lunch on the very first day (which I shared with you on FB!) and failed. Once to Mexico Chiquito and once to Chuy's, and oh gosh once to Razorback Pizza. Here's what I had.<br>
<br>
<u>Panera</u> - Corn Chowder (FAIL!) and Greek Salad- order black bean soup in stead and get a vegan bread option because the little mini baguettes are not<br>
<br>
<u>Pei Wei</u> - Pad Thai w/no Egg (Success! and YUM!) There are just a million calories in it.<br>
<u></u><br>
<u>Mexico Chiquito</u> - (Half Fail) Veggie tacos which consisted of black beans only because I ordered them with no cheese dip. The half fail is because their lettuce/tomato/cheese mixture for topping is all mixed in and I couldn't get the powdery goo off of my taco. I also got guacamole and chips which were tasty.<br>
<br>
<u>Chuy's</u> - Veggie fajitas (SUPER DELICIOUS!), OMG their tortillas are so good and the veggie fajitas with some quacamole and salsa honestly left me feeling no sadness for the lost sour cream. The only thing I didn't like was paying (sortof, we had a gift card) $12 for veggies on a skillet. They should adjust the price if you are only ordering veggies I think.<br>
<br>
<u>Razorback Pizza</u> - Spanish Pie w/no cheese or meat or sour cream (EPIC FAIL OF SADNESS) Seriously, I have had taco pizza at Larry's before and it was delish and needed no cheese or meat at all. This stuff at Razorback pizza was awful. The beans are mixed with chili powder and tomato paste to create a bitter, vinegar flavored awful paste stuck to stale crust topped with big hunks of salad bar lettuce and tomato wedges and olives that seemed way past their fresh by date. They gave me half off the pizza because I couldn't even get the kids to eat the cheesy/meaty goodness side of the thing. It was awful and in the bathroom, there was this photo.<br>
<br>
<br>
<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-SxTrLFpP3aA/Uh6Ir1EENYI/AAAAAAAAAqU/xGEuBHrD7BI/s640/blogger-image--993539022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-SxTrLFpP3aA/Uh6Ir1EENYI/AAAAAAAAAqU/xGEuBHrD7BI/s640/blogger-image--993539022.jpg"></a>Talk about adding insult to injury!! Needless to say, that was a tough day to stay vegan. Later that night my church hosted their annual homemade ice cream and dessert bingo night. I ate my black bean burrito wrap from home with great sadness as everyone chowed down on ice cream and brownies. If I'd had the time I would have made myself a vegan treat, BUT I was too busy shopping for new pants and treated myself to a pair of red high heels. So although it didn't feel quite as good as those treats probably tasted, I vaguely understand the phrase! <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-2Crg-e_cNp0/Uh6IqD3RmzI/AAAAAAAAAqM/w3dLVH1fh98/s640/blogger-image--1127632423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-2Crg-e_cNp0/Uh6IqD3RmzI/AAAAAAAAAqM/w3dLVH1fh98/s640/blogger-image--1127632423.jpg"></a></div></div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-13210796794683207852013-08-10T08:31:00.001-05:002013-08-10T08:48:30.927-05:00Cheap Vegan Meals and RecipesWe are on a crazy tight budget this summer after vacation, so it's actually great to be cooking vegan/vegetarian foods. Meat is expensive, especially the healthy kinds. Here's my dinner list for the week along with recipe links and my original recipes are posted below. Enjoy! <div><br></div><div>• Black Beans & Rice w/avocado</div><div> <a href="http://www.realsimple.com/m/food-recipes/browse-all-recipes/cuban-black-beans-rice-00000000008561/index.html">http://www.realsimple.com/m/food-recipes/browse-all-recipes/cuban-black-beans-rice-00000000008561/index.html</a></div><div>(I use dry beans and omit the radish!)</div><div> </div><div>• Black Bean Burritos (cook onions and garlic to skillet, put leftover beans in food processor then cook in skillet until bubbly) </div><div>• Vegan Chili </div><div>• Vegan Chili Mac w/double fiber rotini</div><div>• Lentil Cauliflower Rice Tacos</div><div> <a href="http://blog.fatfreevegan.com/2013/04/lentil-and-cauliflower-rice-tacos.html">http://blog.fatfreevegan.com/2013/04/lentil-and-cauliflower-rice-tacos.html</a></div><div><br></div><div>• Vegan Shawarma Patties w/jasmine rice</div><div>• Spaghetti with Vegan Vodka Sauce</div><div><br></div><div><span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Easy Vegan Chili </span><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Ingredients</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1 small yellow onion, diced</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1 yellow squash, finely chopped or shredded</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">2 cloves garlic</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1 tsp olive oil</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">2 cans chili hot beans or kidney beans</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1 can chili ready tomatoes </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1 large can tomato sauce</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1 tbspn nutritional yeast (optional for flavor only)</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Chili Seasoning</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">2 tsp chili powder</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/2 tsp cumin</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/2 tsp garlic powder</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/2 tsp salt</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/2 tsp pepper</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/4 tsp onion powder</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/4 tsp curry powder</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/4 tsp cayenne pepper</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/2 tsp smoked paprika (adds great flavor if smoked, but sub regular paprika if needed)</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1/2 tsp brown sugar</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Mix well with fork, save for more chili! You will only use about 1 and a half tablespoons.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Directions:</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">In large pot on med-high, heat the olive oil then add diced onion, garlic, and shredded squash and cook until tender and starting to brown. Then add 1 tbspn of your prepared chili seasoning, stir well. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Turn heat to medium then Add can tomato sauce and stir well. Slowly add all canned ingredients plus one small can of water and the nutritional yeast. Let heat until bubbly, then taste for spice. If you need more flavor, add another half tablespoon of chili seasoning. If bitter or needs more tomato taste, add 1 tbspn ketchup! For more spicy flavor, add more cayenne pepper. Let simmer on low for awhile, stirring occasionally. Serve hot topped with cilantro, salsa, fried onions, or eat with chips! </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Yum,</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Yum,</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Gimme some and no TVP!!</div></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">• Chili Mac - Serve over double fiber rotini topped with nutritional yeast or smoothed silken tofu in the food processor mixed into leftover chili for creamy sauce. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-weight: bold; "><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Vegan Shawarma Patties</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; "></span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Ingredients</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/2 cup green lentils (dry-cook according to package)</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/2 cup of cooked jasmine rice</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1 small yellow squash, diced</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">3-4 portabello mushrooms, diced</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/4 cup onion, diced</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">2 cloves garlic, minced</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/2 tsp turmeric</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/2 tsp cumin</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/4 tsp curry</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/4 tsp garlic powder</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/4 tsp coriander</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Dash salt & pepper</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Dash allspice and cinnamon</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/2 cup flour</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/4 cup corn meal</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">1/4 cup oats</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; "></span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; "></span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Mix cooked lentils and rice together</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Cook all veggies in skillet with olive oil, when very soft add spices</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Add veggies to lentil/rice mix</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Add flour, cornmeal, and oats, stir well </span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; "></span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Create patties and pan fry in olive oil (same skillet used for veggies) until brown on both sides (3 mins or so on each side over med-high heat)</span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; "></span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Serve on pita or with rice and cucumber sauce </span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; "></span><br><br>Vegan Vodka Sauce</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">Ingredients</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); "><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">Favorite Spaghetti Sauce Veggies</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">Basil</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">Garlic cloves (2)</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">1/4 tsp garlic powder</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">Prepared Jar of Marinara (sockarooni by Newmans Own is goood)</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">Half block of Mori Nu silken Tofu (soft or firm)</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">Noodles</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); "><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); "><b>Instructions</b></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Cook veggies and garlic cloves in pot or skillet</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Cut tofu into chunks</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Place in food processor with garlic powder, basil, and about a 1/4 cup of marinara and blend until smooth</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Add mixture to pan with veggies along with remaining marinara. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Cook until bubbly and serve over desires pasta noodle</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I use whole grain or double fiber by Ronzoni or Barilla </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); "><br><span style="font-weight: normal; "></span><br style="font-weight: normal; "><br></span></div><div><br></div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-8393431470107534112013-08-06T16:48:00.001-05:002013-08-06T16:48:20.251-05:00Very Vegan Vignette August really surprised me. I knew it was coming, but not so soon. We all say that, but I have so many things to do, that are due (Master's PROJECT!!), that I don't want to do. This summer was too short, but we had our vacation and our three day family weekends now that I'm working 4 x 10 hour days. The kids are getting so big. Freddie went to a two day summer camp. Charlie is working on potty training and Addie hasn't sucked her thumb in weeks. Addie starts a 4 y/o pre-k program this school year so I will have three kids in three different places every week day. Soccer starts soon. Dance starts soon. Homework starts soon. With all of these impending stressors, it was a must for me to step up my diet and exercise routine and give myself a vision for the month of August. I needed something to keep my self-care near the top of the priority list, but with enough room for the MANY other things headed my way.<br />
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The past few months I have been dabbling in Weganism or being a Wegetarian. That's where you eat vegan or vegetarian until the weekend hits! It started with just an interest to see if I could do it. Could I cook vegetarian meals for a family of five on a very tight budget with a meat lovin' husband and a picky two year old? Could I buy more organic fruits and vegetables and not go wildly over my weekly grocery average? Could I cut meat meals down to 3-4x a week, then down to 2, or maybe just one? The answer to these questions was YES! It cost more to buy organic fruits and veggies and meat, but once I cut out the meat, it evened back out. Some questions were a resounding, NO! Like, Can I buy only local food? Can I go to the Farmer's Market every Saturday morning? Can I order from the AR Local Food Network every week? Nope on those things. Too expensive, too much time commitment, too much future planning, tooooo much for me. That's ok though. I found out that I can grow stuff, with some help. Fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, basil, eggplant, and now even some peppers from the garden have helped feed my locally grown fancy. Another resounding NO for me right now is feeding an entire family of five on a vegan diet. We have made HUGE strides in eliminating animal products from our house and at least having a variety of options. We have almond, soy, and dairy milk in our fridge. Meat meals are down to once a week besides eating out or at church functions. I haven't figured out how to get rid of yogurt, sour cream, cheese, eggs, butter, and hot dogs from a kid's diet. My children love fruit, veggies, hummus, peanut butter, nuts, seeds, beans, etc though. That's a plus!<br />
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So, what in the world is wrong with me anyway? Two years ago I had a blanket distrust of anyone who didn't eat meat. It was hoity toity nonsense. Vegetarians were obnoxious enough and vegans were on my list of the most pretentious on the planet. Don't get me wrong, those judgy snobberies definitely exist. It's just that there are multiple motivations and varying degrees of expectations related to plant based eating. Mercy and realism are elements of most people's daily perceptions! <a href="http://areturntosoutherncomplexity.wordpress.com/">Rachel</a> has been kicking tail at being a vegan, besides an occasional corn dog or cheese stick mishap. Damn that Sonic Drive-In! She's so encouraging when I cook vegan meals and appreciative. It made me realize that I wouldn't have to give up my joy of loving people with food in order to give up meat. It just didn't happen that I wanted to give it up or saw any reason that I needed to.<br />
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Then came friggin' My Fitness Pal. Do you know how many calories are in ground beef??? It was terrible, so I switched to ground turkey. Cue the e-coli bacteria outbreak in ground turkey. Um, now what? Ground chicken? Organic chicken was stranglingly expensive. I looked into a meat share with a local organic farmer but was way too overwhelmed with the thought of having a deep freezer full of a 1/4 cow, 1/4 pig, 12 chickens, a huge turkey, 8 lbs of organ meat, and an entire 10lb bucket of lard in my garage. Then I decided to give in and watch <a href="http://www.forksoverknives.com/">Forks over Knives</a> on Netflix, then every other plant based, locally grown, organic food documentary I could find like <a href="http://www.filmsforaction.org/watch/food_fight_2012/">Food Fight</a>, <a href="http://www.fatsickandnearlydead.com/">Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead</a>, <a href="http://www.getvegucated.com/">Vegucated</a>, and many others. It was so interesting and sortof scary. Watch them! Seemed like a pretty good challenge for me, so August it was. I geared up by eating vegetarian for awhile and then just made the decision to try eating a vegan diet for the month of August. Done, sorta. <br />
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I have made a few mistakes and it is definitely a learning curve. I'm not freaking out about it though and continuing to make good choices even if I do eat a cream based soup by accident. I'm also finding humor in the huge tupperware I have to bring to the church hot dog bar and the whole cucumbers I pull out of my lunch bag. It's just another layer of being in this world, but not of it. We don't have to ascribe to a standard American diet of processed food and meats that are actually funding dessertification, soil degradation, and starvation for much of the world. We deserve to know how our bodies were created to work and how chemicals and hormones effect our health both mental and physical. I may not be able to stick this out and I LOVE hamburgers, corn dogs, turkey sandwiches, fried chicken sandwiches from chick-fil-a, hot wings, pepperoni pizza, oh man I'm getting hungry. It's just worth a try! The worst thing so far is not being able to use half and half in my coffee. Soy milk, almond milk, coconut milk creamers, tried them all and yuck, splfhfffh, ecck, ugggh, nope. The best is soy milk with lots of sugar but still it isn't the same joy. Poor me. <br />
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I hope to post some recipes up here and easy meal lists for people interested in just cutting back on the meat, cutting down their grocery bills, or in going all in. Oh, check out this awesome blog for amazing <a href="http://blog.fatfreevegan.com/">fat free vegan</a> recipes. It may be important to note that I'm going to try and primarily eat plant based, which means no vegan cheese, processed prepared fake meats, oreos (totally vegan!), onion rings, and the like. This is supposed to be healthy, low fat, low calorie, HIGH nutrition. I still have more weight to lose ya know. <br />
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Last thing for today.....as promised, 18 month weight loss photos! 58.2lbs down! It's still so incredibly slow, but I see shape change even when I don't see pounds shedding off. I love to see the progress I have made and I laugh to myself thinking about what my infomercial would say. "Would you like to lose up to 58lbs in a year and a half? How would you like to exercise, run a half-marathon, track calories, watch your portions, completely change your eating habits and lifestyle, makeover your grocery shopping routine, and find yourself losing a steady 1lb a week over the next couple of years? Does losing three sizes and 8.5 inches from your waist by next Christmas sound good to you? If so, call this number NOW!" :) It just doesn't sound like it would sell very fast. <br />
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Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-47288485537488022842013-05-10T16:59:00.001-05:002013-06-03T16:17:07.650-05:00Mama's DayI had a request for an update! So, I'm updating but no major news. Life is completely insane. Seriously, we are having a blast but between dance, soccer, church, full time jobs, volunteer stuff, weight loss/exercise journeys, trying to finish my master's project, and eating, we are full up! It's almost Mother's Day again. One of my very favorite holidays that I believe just needs to replace my birthday. Even if we've lost our mothers or don't have a good relationship with your mother or you aren't a mother, there is something wonderful to celebrate. Remembering all the good things about your own mother, honoring that amazing woman in your life that is such a nurturer, contemplating all the ones your nurture and love (plants, animals, friends, etc.), or just being a strong feminist for the day. Wow we are awesome. There are so many roles women are asked to play and this mother being is the beautiful centerpiece of the whole woman thing I believe. We are shaped by our moms, either to spite her, in spite of her, or in pursuit of her. <br />
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Anyway, I just wanted to stop in and say I'm alive and life is good. My frustration has waned in the weight loss adventure because I've done much better at staying on track since the holidays finally came to a close. I'm down 52 total pounds since January 2012 and I will post an 18 month update photo after we take our July 1st comparison pictures. Is it weird to be excited about taking pictures of your butt and gut? :) I'm sure it is weird. Oh and the half marathon was amazing and super hard and not something I really think I will do again any time soon! Maybe if it didn't take me 3 hours to run the thing I would think differently. <br />
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Oh, and I will leave you with a motivational schpeel I sent to a friend the other day. It is truth folks. <br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am thankful today that I feel beautiful. I see so
many people, especially women, walking around all sunken in and down or
arrogant and haughty and think to myself, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m glad that I just feel like a person who is lovely inside
and out. I’m thankful that I feel like I deserve basic human dignity and
respect but don’t feel the need to demand reverence from anyone. I am
grateful that God helps me feel worthy and deserving of love so that I feel
others are also worthy and deserving of love. God loves me and although I
have done nothing to earn my place in this world, I feel an undeniable need to
smile and bring light into the darkness and breath into lifelessness.
This must be a tiny glimpse of what God sees while looking upon the world, light
and darkness. It’s not always the darkness that comes from evil or
cruelty, but the darkness that comes from ingratitude, arrogance, insecurity,
self-doubt, discontentment, self-loathing, loneliness, grief, pain, and the
absence of hope. That darkness will not win today. I see it in her,
in him, in that room, and I’m going to shine my light so bright in those spots
today that nobody will even like me tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow my light won’t
feel so bright and I’ll need a shining. Today though, I’m going to
beam. I hope you beam too!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-33413609061325846492012-10-02T14:36:00.000-05:002012-10-02T16:10:47.611-05:00Frustration and MotivationWhat, who, when, where has she been? Is that what you wonder or are you just glad to know I'm alive and my fingers still work? :) Since this is my personal therapy blog, I really shouldn't just abandon it when I'm busy. It's free after all, may as well enjoy the perks of my individual mental health insurance plan. <br />
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I hope that my friends' lives have been filled with crafts, fun events, pictures galore, vacations, memories, family time, and love that I may not have seen fill the pages of blogs but that filled your hearts! I know mine has and I can't guarantee that I'll ever get back in the habit of documenting it and sharing it here, but I would like to. Poor Charlie is going to think I just gave up when she was born. This is the closest thing to a baby book that any of them will ever have after all. <br />
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Today I just want to share with you my frustration and hopefully end in motivation. I made a real new year's resolution this year to seriously take charge of my weight and health. It has been a constant struggle for me most of my life. Yes, that's the same story we've all heard it, but when it comes right down to it, we're in charge of what we do and what we put in our bodies. That's a hard reality to deal with. So are pictures. They don't lie, the camera isn't adding enough lbs to make me look like I just gave up...I actually did that. After Charlie was born I once again rebelled against my body's need for healthy food, exercise, and attention to portions. I just let it all go. It felt good for a month or two or three. I just enjoyed what I was eating, cooked what I wanted, ate where I wanted, never slept (newborn and all), never exercised, stayed in maternity clothes, and just sat. I gained 25lbs in the six months after Charlie was born. I weighed more in January than I did the day I went into labor with Charlie. Talk about a reality check. It was awful but I let it happen. When it comes to weight, I just tell myself that I wish I could be one of those normal people who can eat what they want, exercise a little, and their metabolism takes care of the rest. Um, those aren't normal people! I know some of those folks, but weight is hardly the only indicator of health. It's just a public announcement of your values regarding your body. How terrible it felt y'all, to realize that I was outwardly telling people that I didn't care, that I was weak, that I didn't value my health, my body, my self. Let's take it big picture, I was telling the world and my family that I wasn't so concerned with them either. How can I expect to play with my kids, chase and frolic, um, stay alive at all when I was packing around a 43 BMI. <br />
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Ok, so all that shocked me into the fact that I had to change. I've changed before, lost weight before, exercised before, ran a 5K before, ate low-carb before, on and on. It just never stuck and I found another reason to just give in. This time just felt different though. Maybe it's because I had just turned 29 and realized that I had spent all but about a year or so of my twenties in the severely obese category. Maybe it was that I had a good friend encouraging me...that was certainly a big help. Jason joined in, we took pictures, we made a plan, we wrote down goals for the year, a weightloss competition started at work, and everyone was just ready. It started out so great. I lost about 12lbs in the first month, woohoo! Within two months I was down 18lbs and then by six months I had lost 35. I started a running clinic in March and kept it up, finished another 5K all running this time in May. Sodas, all sodas were out of my diet for five entire months. Man, it was feeling great. I had high energy, motivation, excitement, encouragement, all the ingredients for success. My goal of losing 60lbs this year seemed attainable.<br />
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Then summer came, vacation came, four ten hour work days, kids at home all day, laziness, pictures of me in a bathing suit, summer cookouts, birthday parties, all that good stuff came and laid me out. It's now been 9 months and I've still just lost about 35lbs, some days it's closer to 38-40 but I just can't get or keep the next five pounds off of my body. I look a lot better, I feel so much better, I'm still running about 6-7 miles a week, trying to find the time to exercise at home, and recommitted myself to my lower carb healthy eating for the 3rd or 4th time in the past several months. Something is just not gelling. Something is missing. I am frustrated. The only way to combat frustration is motivation. <br />
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My sweet friend, Rachel, is a super encourager and may I mention that she's been making these same changes plus adding yoga and her diet change has been to become VEGAN! She is doing awesome. Her total weightloss is up to more than 50lbs! Her BMI was not nearly as high as mine when she started either, so she is getting so close to her end goal. I could not be more proud or excited and happy for someone even if she were getting married or pregnant, seriously, this is the same level of joy! We talk ourselves up, we sound like complete idiots when we run, "We're awesome, we can do this, come on, up that hill, lean forward, we got this, high five, lookin' good, breathe, woohoo, hooray, wheeee, etc." There are also some, "I f^&%& hate you, why did we turn right??" Some, "Oh, you wanna go 3.5, let's do four then, I've got my second wind heifer, come on!" It is a riot. Then there are times when we just wanna sit, drink a cup of coffee, and chit chat with our running tights on and ignore the road that is definitely NOT calling our names. <br />
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All of this to say...I need motivation. It could come from a significant pound loss, inches lost, a new goal reached in my exercise, a size drop (with my current weight, it takes a lot of pounds to see a size drop and so far I've only seen my clothes fit better and I've been able to get into a few pairs of pants that previously didn't fit anymore, but honestly I'm just now actually fitting into the size I was wearing before pregnancy minus the maternity stuff so I have not yet seen a real size drop), or just something, anything. Since my weight loss has been so slow, which is a good and healthy thing, I don't get a lot of compliments. Nobody notices much or says anything encouraging very often. At first there was a lot of that, but now that we're nine months in, I think people are waiting for a much more dramatic change. My motivation needs to be internal though. It's hard. My personal motivation usually honestly comes from my relationship with God. I know it sounds hokey, but it's true. When I needed help with feeling overwhelmed and depressed last winter, Jesus was to the rescue. He'd been there the whole time, but really sinking into that and just giving it up to Him was the answer. This was along with some help from my midwife, taking charge of my health, and lots of crying. Any ideas on how to convince myself that Jesus really cares about what size I wear? It's just that our society has not only convinced me that certain clothes, styles, and sizes are "pretty" but it's also convinced me that caring about those things are vain and petty. In my head, I know that this is much more. I listed those things above, and I "know" it isn't just vanity, but I can't justify in my head to pray and talk to Jesus about my weight, about how far I want to run, and about how I hope I can avoid eating the donuts at tomorrow's meeting. See, this therapy is paying off. I just answered a huge question for myself. <br />
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In short, will you all pray to Jesus about those things for me while I'm getting over my sheer embarrassment to ask Him to help me with it? I'm also ashamed that I've taken this beautiful and powerful body that God gave me and turned into what I have. It isn't often that I think of my health habits as something I need to repent for, so maybe I never did and that is a barrier between me and Jesus about this whole weight loss and healthy living thing. Dang, this is revelation at its finest. Thank you for reading and just because I am insane I will share something secret, embarrassing, and hopefully inspiring with all of you.<br />
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<strong>SIX MONTHS</strong></div>
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<strong> BEFORE</strong> JAN '12 <strong>AFTER</strong> JUL '12</div>
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<strong>September '12</strong></div>
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Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-49215801040584098262012-05-21T21:39:00.000-05:002012-05-21T21:42:54.458-05:00I could sleep...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, I could if it weren't for all these sugar plums. I swear one is awake at any given time between 12-5 am! There is either a huge man eating bug (or a fly) buzzing around someone's room, someone in the bathroom, someone peeing the bed, a hungry critter, a bad dream, random creepy wake up to a child looming at the bedside, pitter patter feet in the hallway, or one of us going in to make sure everyone is breathing constantly! </div>
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I can sleep when I retire I guess, wouldn't want to miss any of this!!</div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-29730181736058846222012-04-11T19:29:00.002-05:002012-04-11T19:41:04.533-05:00Double Decker Ear InfectionsWe're on the second double ear infection for a combined total of four between those and the singles. That's quite a few for a near 10 month old. I feel so bad for Charlie Barley girl and for my pocket book that just dolled out $120 for triple strength antibiotics for this latest one. I guess it's cheaper than tubes, but those may be in our future anyway. <div><br /></div><div>Other than that, we're scootin' along around here. Freddie is doing really well in school and he's learning soooo much. He's reading wonderfully and memorizing those sight words like a champ. We still haven't worked on shoe tying, but that's ok, right? He is in his fourth season of soccer (they do two a year), and I must say he's really showing some skill. Freddie is big, like he wears size 6 little boy pants and size 13 shoes. I just hope we make it til the end of the school year on these uniforms. </div><div><br /></div><div>Adeline is a hot mess. She is still in her terrible twos as far as attitude goes, but she is showing little glimmers of progress. Every now and then she will share willingly, think of someone else's feelings, give her brother a kind word, give something up for her siblings, or just very simply comply with something I've asked of her without a fit or complaint. On the other hand, she is hilarious and beautiful and crazy smart. She is in dance class now and she is so excited about her upcoming recital. I am too, that's a big deal for mom too!</div><div><br /></div><div>Charlie is crawling and she has so stinkin' many teeth it's crazy. She is cutting 5 top teeth at once and it has been miserable, but I think she's finally down hill on that one. I am still nursing her, but that girl hasn't made one second of it easy for me. My pumping has pretty much ceased at work, but I was only pumping about 4 oz a day anyway. She's had one nursing strike after another and is often way too busy to think about nursing for more than five minutes. That's a day by day commitment for me, but I do hope to make it to a year at least. Well, wouldn't you know it, there she blows. She was sleepy tonight and now that it's bedtime she's up from her ill timed nap. That's ok, tonight was a good family night and I got to just cuddle her and she actually nursed contentedly while I snuggled her fat little baby self. </div><div><br /></div><div>Happy days and times at The Allen house! </div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-59286516688009065502012-02-01T16:33:00.004-06:002012-02-01T17:02:18.281-06:002011- How'd I do?Hi! I thought I would start out my new attempt at blogging with a recap of my hopes to accomplish by 2012. Let's see what they were.<br /><br />1) Eat according to the requirements for gestational diabetes from now until the end of the year in hopes of losing the baby weight and some extra by January 2012.<br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">Well, I did fine until Charlie was born. Then I went on a crazy binge just like I did after Addie was born and actually ended up gaining weight! I have been eating better for a month now and I'm just now back at what I was the day Charlie was born. Goal #1- FAIL!</span><br />2) Prepare Freddie for Kindergarten by completing the readiness calendar distributed by the school district and teaching him basic reading skills!<br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">I pretty much did this one! We had all the letters, upper and lowercase, all the letter sounds, numbers 1-9ish, shapes and colors down. He practiced his address and phone number and was very well socialized. His only real issue is that his fine motor skills are a little dalayed, which can be related to his left handedness. He's now a brainiac and reading several words and counting to 100. I'm very proud of my smart boy. As he read a beginner book the other day, Jason said to me, "He can read because of you." He kissed my forehead and I felt for a second like a proud little kid. My hubs is super sweet.</span><br />3) Potty train Adeline<br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">DONE!! </span><span style="color:#ff6666;">I didn't do it all myself or anything, but I sure put in a lot of work on the front end! She still has a few accidents and wears her diaper at night, but she is a champ and really has been potty trained since not long after she turned 2. Oh, and we are done with the pacifier! So glad to be done with that, but now she's taken to thumb sucking which is an all day anytime she's tired thing. I guess she doesn't want me to run out of goals!</span><br />4) Learn to quilt (I learned to knit in 2010 so why not quilting next?!)<br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">I'll give myself a partial on this one. I made two bedspreads for the kids. They are sortof quilted. I posted pictures on this blog, but I'm too lazy to find you a link! I did them all by machine including the binding and only came up with maybe 4-5 "mitered" edges out of the eight, but they are cute and now after so many washes they are soft and cuddly. It gives my heart such joy to watch them bring their coordinating blankets to the living room for a movie night or wrapped up in them in the mornings. So, I can't really do it right, but I've made an attempt.</span><br />5) Knit a baby sweater and booties<br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">FAIL! I knitted lots of things, but no sweater or booties. I made Charlie a hat that fit her for just a minute. I knitted two baby bowls and a hammock for her newborn pics. I've knitted tons of infinity scarves for Christmas. I knitted a pair of slippers for my sister-in-law. I spent weeks knitting a wool beret for Addie. So, maybe 2012 for the sweaters/booties??</span><br />6) Go on a romantic trip with Jason, no kiddos<br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">DONE! Jason and I took a weekend trip to Dallas before Charlie was born. We had so much fun and stayed at the Renaissance Hotel which is awesome and I've always wanted to stay there since we lived there one summer. It wasn't like couples spa and chocolate dipped strawberries romantic...but that's not what I meant anyway! Who would?? ;)</span><br />7) Read 6 books for pleasure (preferably fiction because I'm always reading about babies, birth, knitting, etc. because I can just easily pick it up and put it back down!)<br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">Ok, let me think....I read all three Hunger Games books in a weekend! I read The Help. I've started about 5 or 6, but haven't finished them. Wow, what a loser head, I can't think of any other books I've read in a whole year that weren't non-fiction! I won't even bore you with all of the baby and birth books I read though. I should obviously do better on that one. </span><br /><br /><br />Here are some gimmes...8) Start a new job! 9) Have a baby!10) Learn how to be a full time working mom of 3!<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">8) I started it all right, it was fine until after I came back from maternity leave. It is pretty rotten at the moment...well for the past 6 months. I love where I work and who I work with, but my actual job is stinky. I hope it will change, but for now I pretty much just pray nothing worse than yesterday happens today. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">9) Did it! I will have a Charlie post someday, but in short, she was a wonderful newborn and I loved that part of her sweet little life until I ended up having to have surgery and spent way longer than I'd hoped in the recovery stage. Then at about 1-2 months she became insufferable. Seriously, it was awful, no sleep ever, seriously worried about myself, depressed, frustrated, downright angry. It stayed that way until about 5.5 months when I just said I HAVE to change this. I started some treatment for my depressed feelings and got her on a bedtime routine/schedule that was do-able, and gave up dairy. Those things combined with her being really sick for a week or so really helped me get back into a better place with her and she with me. Now, I'm back to ooey gooey cuddle bug, sugar plum, love your face, gimme kiss, giggle pie, yum yum yum, love that squishy chunker pediddlepie baby girl. If you haven't met her yet, you totally should! I can't wait to get home and see her little scrunched up face every day. Y'all, she even looks like me and her hair is coming back in straight and blonde!</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">10) Ha! I don't think I'll ever really have that one down. I am trying, but I fail at something every day that I also succeed marvelously at something else. That's ok. My house is a little out of hand, well a LOT out of hand, but I just know that someday all the stars will align and I'll clean that sucker and wait for another couple of months to go by when the right time strikes again. The stars just haven't cooperated in awhile! I still don't want to have to work. I still wish upon all that is holy and good that I could be a stay at home mom. I miss my kids so much during the day and nights that I have other things to do I feel horribly guilty for missing even more time with them. I hate that I have to supplement with formula and that there are days when I only get to see Charlie for 20-30 minutes. There's not much on the horizon for those things to change...like ever. We'll never need LESS money to live on. So, I may be terribly unhappy with the way things are, but I can certainly learn to be content with where I'm at for the moment. That's my only goal really for 2012. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;">1) Focus more on being content. Change things that I am able in order to make myself more comfortable and happy with my place in life. Accept things that I can not change or control and learn to live with them as necessary companions to the many blessings I have. </span>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-71036439854959943722011-10-30T22:21:00.005-05:002011-10-30T22:28:44.544-05:00Never Blog Again<div><br /></div><div>At least that's how it feels. I just wanted to share some love with anyone who may still attempt to read. So, here are some photos at least!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wK6gFb15Q5Q/Tq4VVAHAQ3I/AAAAAAAAAmo/pcch_8qpgA4/s1600/IMG_0741.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wK6gFb15Q5Q/Tq4VVAHAQ3I/AAAAAAAAAmo/pcch_8qpgA4/s400/IMG_0741.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669492431456846706" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><br /></u></span></div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MZw5SOUCNUI/Tq4VTvDspBI/AAAAAAAAAmc/g0Xi7wEGu-I/s1600/IMG_0788.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MZw5SOUCNUI/Tq4VTvDspBI/AAAAAAAAAmc/g0Xi7wEGu-I/s400/IMG_0788.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669492409699705874" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-30G2Zhzm6CM/Tq4VTeXr90I/AAAAAAAAAmM/RHRzf0C9pOs/s1600/IMG_0786.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-30G2Zhzm6CM/Tq4VTeXr90I/AAAAAAAAAmM/RHRzf0C9pOs/s400/IMG_0786.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669492405220144962" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D6lg80jFxc0/Tq4VSyanDJI/AAAAAAAAAmE/yEh-WUI3plk/s1600/IMG_0765.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D6lg80jFxc0/Tq4VSyanDJI/AAAAAAAAAmE/yEh-WUI3plk/s400/IMG_0765.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669492393421245586" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9yHJNhWM1o/Tq4VSOC9iZI/AAAAAAAAAl4/BhZqRArDZwE/s1600/IMG_0746.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9yHJNhWM1o/Tq4VSOC9iZI/AAAAAAAAAl4/BhZqRArDZwE/s400/IMG_0746.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669492383658379666" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FthXr8wLvGE/Tq4U2iw90VI/AAAAAAAAAls/6aLx2KxuOl4/s1600/IMG_0801.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FthXr8wLvGE/Tq4U2iw90VI/AAAAAAAAAls/6aLx2KxuOl4/s400/IMG_0801.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669491908183707986" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-38473364941767020012011-08-26T06:33:00.002-05:002011-08-26T06:39:12.566-05:00My Life in OuncesWill it be a 9 oz day or just a 7? My life now that I'm back at work feels as if it boils down to ounces. How many ounces will I pump? It makes so much sense. A 9 oz day makes me feel powerful and as if I can really do this whole thing, work, three kids, finish my master's degree, breastfeed for a year again, and so forth. A 7 oz day makes me feel like breastfeeding will fail, my child is starving, I'm not doing so great at catching up with work, and that I'll eventually just fizzle out at everything. It doesn't help that the daycare took license to feed Charlie formula whenever she cries because I was short the first day and had to send 1 measly ounce of formula with her. She ate 5 oz all day on Monday and yesterday they fed her 14 and 5 of those were formula. I am angry but at the same time trying not to stress myself out with control issues. It's a big mess though. <div>
<br /></div><div>My head runs into...if they feed her so much, has she not been getting enough while nursing? Oh yes she has, she's fine, those silly women probably just don't realize that she finishes the bottle much faster than she finishes nursing and is just wanting to be able to suck longer but instead they feed her. Grrr, if they keep feeding her so much then she's going to start wanting more but I'm not going to be able to keep up with her demand since I'm stuck at work pumping 3 times a day trying to be as discreet as possible so nobody will think I'm a freak or get jealous that I have these "privileges." I miss her, maybe this weekend will be better and she'll get back on a good schedule. I hate pumping when I get home from work but I have to in order to get that last ounce for the next day. Why didn't I pump more when I was on leave? </div><div>
<br /></div><div>See, it's ugly in there! SO....bummer, bet you're glad to read today!!</div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-41622424995614581432011-08-14T07:20:00.003-05:002011-08-19T12:53:51.450-05:00SoonSoon, life will go back to a normal I never really expected for my life. Three kids, a husband, a dog, a home to keep, and a full time job as a stinkin' supervisor at an organization that I adore. As I've gone through this maternity leave, it's been a lot different for me emotionally. I haven't cried yet about going back to work. There isn't that aching wish/hope/dream that something miraculous will happen and I can stay at home with the kids. Gracious, not that I don't want to, but I have finally accepted that it's not going to happen for me. I don't even mean this in some cynical defeatist type of way. It's just that God has worked out in me that my job is a gift. Somehow I was able to work at home for over a year and enjoy my sweet babies, watch Addie learn to walk, nurse her until she was 16 months old, teach Freddie his ABCs and all their sounds, teach him how to count to 10 at least :), potty train Addie, and eventually become pregnant and spend my first trimester able to rest at home! That was a truly wonderful time, but not without significant sacrifice and hardship. I often struggled with guilt while I was working that my kids would be better off at daycare where someone could pay more attention to them or they would have friends to play with. It's just never perfect as a mom I guess, we're always wanting more and better for our kids even when it is too much for us to do or provide.<div>
<br /></div><div>So, on August 22nd, I'm heading back to work. This past Monday, I took Freddie to his first day of kindergarten. Life is so busy. 5:30 wakeup, shower, get dressed, fix hair/makeup; 6:00 nurse Charlie and pray she goes back to sleep; 6:30 get breakfast ready for kids & me, load up car with bags, computer, backpacks, etc. 6:45 wake up kids, brush teeth, get them dressed, hand them to-go breakfasts, brush hair, potty, etc; 7:05 OUT THE DOOR OR ELSE ; 7:15 drop Freddie off at school; 7:20 drop girls off at daycare; 7:30 head to work! This week has been good practice. All of it is just crazy and all on about 5 hours of sleep a night. It's amazing the stamina that God can provide to us when we are doing His work. I have to believe that raising a family, serving them, teaching God's love, and sharing that loving family with your community is truly God's work! I am sure I will blog more as an outlet for how badly it will hurt to send my new baby girl to daycare and how Addie is acting out now that she's not getting enough Mommy time, and how Freddie wailing at the kitchen table with his poor lefthanded handwriting problems! </div><div>
<br /></div><div>P.S. I am watching A Baby Story and this woman is a weenie! ;) HAHAHA!</div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-66204565633536619602011-07-22T22:26:00.003-05:002011-07-22T22:28:59.400-05:00Photo Shoot with Amomphotographer<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dpEPYlJXSC8/Tio_5lXVUOI/AAAAAAAAAlg/hRTQrEYsuko/s1600/IMG_0422.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dpEPYlJXSC8/Tio_5lXVUOI/AAAAAAAAAlg/hRTQrEYsuko/s400/IMG_0422.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632384542495297762" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kqo8zIhXa20/Tio_5Vp6tuI/AAAAAAAAAlY/5WcfI8Xhths/s1600/IMG_0435.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kqo8zIhXa20/Tio_5Vp6tuI/AAAAAAAAAlY/5WcfI8Xhths/s400/IMG_0435.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632384538278278882" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OVhiRUJ-I2A/Tio_twntiAI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/w1wNmwdMceI/s1600/IMG_0426.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OVhiRUJ-I2A/Tio_twntiAI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/w1wNmwdMceI/s400/IMG_0426.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632384339358353410" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2-UnbmbEpe8/Tio_tnWatCI/AAAAAAAAAlI/mhNRaJQ2rrE/s1600/IMG_0425.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2-UnbmbEpe8/Tio_tnWatCI/AAAAAAAAAlI/mhNRaJQ2rrE/s400/IMG_0425.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632384336869897250" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5FhOguV0zEc/Tio_tq5AvFI/AAAAAAAAAlA/DvlWzI2gA5g/s1600/IMG_0421.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5FhOguV0zEc/Tio_tq5AvFI/AAAAAAAAAlA/DvlWzI2gA5g/s400/IMG_0421.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632384337820302418" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X5MQuPduEqE/Tio_tQ-JUmI/AAAAAAAAAk4/ScW8_2c_t5k/s1600/IMG_0420.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X5MQuPduEqE/Tio_tQ-JUmI/AAAAAAAAAk4/ScW8_2c_t5k/s400/IMG_0420.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632384330862514786" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qH93H6NCjVk/Tio_tMH1-2I/AAAAAAAAAkw/MTC2iWlugKM/s1600/IMG_0419.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qH93H6NCjVk/Tio_tMH1-2I/AAAAAAAAAkw/MTC2iWlugKM/s400/IMG_0419.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632384329561013090" /></a>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-5441317598367313082011-07-20T11:10:00.002-05:002011-07-20T11:30:57.941-05:00PrivilegedI don't have time for a really long post, probably never will again! It's just on my heart recently to remember how incredibly privileged I am. I don't mean it in a spoiled, rich, silver spoon kind of way. Right now I'm not even referring to living in luxury compared to most of the world, having the freedoms we enjoy in this country, running water, indoor plumbing, access to modern <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">healthcare</span>, antibiotics, vaccines, and all of the many things that I am incredibly privileged to have just because I was born to American parents on a continent full of developed countries (don't be confused, I was born in Germany). Those are beyond my scope for the moment.<div><br /></div><div>Today I am stuck on how incredible of a privilege it is to have children. Maybe it is because Jason and I struggled to even get pregnant in the first place and then we had our entire ride in adopting our sweet Freddie. Maybe it is because I work in an environment where I see on a daily basis how completely ungrateful people are for their children. Perhaps God has gotten through to me on this one thing! It's just that children are such a blessing. They are hard work and often frustrating and sometimes maddening. I am sleep deprived at the moment and terribly inconvenienced by a 3 hour nursing rotation. Those things just seem like nothing compared to the joy and blessing children bring to our lives. It breaks my heart when parents are ungrateful and fail to see the honor they've been given to have a child. I am in awe that God would trust me, bless Jason and I, and walk with us on this journey to raise His children. I am not good enough. I do not deserve this anymore than I deserve salvation. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am also grateful for the privilege of going on this journey with Jason. We have our arguments and shortcomings, but I am daily reminded of how incredibly wonderful he is. Jason and I have really grown up together and we have watched each other go from college students to young/struggling adults, graduate students, husband and wife, employees, on and on and all the way to PARENTS! We both know we're big posers though. We are both selfish, immature, and irresponsible but God helps us fight that spirit everyday so that we can put God, each other, and our kids before ourselves. We lose the battle sometimes, but God's mercy is bountiful! Our children's mercy and forgiveness is also bountiful, and Jason and I have to be merciful to each other (even if it is on a much longer delay! ;) Okay, I am done <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">preachin</span>' it for now. I am just watching my sweet Addie enjoying some PBS Kids this morning and I'm rocking little Charlie so she'll quit screaming at me, and missing Freddie while he's off enjoying <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">VBS</span> at our wonderful church today, and it just hit me. Here I am in the middle of this thing, this whole motherhood thing, and I am ever so grateful to be on number three and still completely blown away by the privilege!</div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-24541118913638609472011-07-13T10:27:00.002-05:002011-07-13T11:14:34.244-05:00InvalidIs that a politically incorrect term...to call oneself an invalid (the noun version meaning an infirm or sickly person)? Dictionary.com does not tell me the social connotations of words, just definitions. Maybe I'm on to a new website!<div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I am tired of feeling like an invalid. I was two weeks postpartum last Saturday when I woke up hurting. I nursed Charlie and during that I started cramping really badly. I thought it was just bad gas which I'd been suffering with since delivery. It got worse and worse though. I laid Charlie down when she finished eating and woke Jason up to share my pain. I was hurting so badly that I was convinced I had appendicitis. Jason was up and getting dressed. I called the midwife to ask her opinion and she thought I might have an obstructed bowel. There was no point stalling, I needed to go to the hospital. Seriously, it hurt so badly that I remember on the car ride just praying that I would pass out and wake up later after it was over. There were tears and lots of yelling and gripping things. We had a neighbor gal run over and sit in the house while the kids were asleep until Nana got here. Sweet Rachel canceled her trip to Russellville to come help with Charlie, and we ended up being admitted to the hospital after several tests and a blessed dose of Demerol.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had a CT scan and an ultrasound which revealed no appendix problems, bowel issues, or gallbladder complications. Turns out that my uterus was "muddled" and it appeared that there was something still in there from the pregnancy, won't know exactly what those "products" were until I go back for my follow up appointment though. I also had a bladder infection which probably wasn't helping with the pain. I had another dose of Demerol before moving up to my room where we waited on the doctor. When she got there she did a pelvic exam and let me know that she felt we needed to do a D&C, dilation and curettage, where they go in and actually scrape/suction your uterus to clean out any infected, damaged, unwanted tissue. It is sadly the exact same procedure whether you have an issue like mine, had a miscarriage, or have an abortion. It makes the procedure seem scarier to me for reason, not to mention the worry I had over possible risks to my reproductive future. Our doctor was amazingly sweet though and talked to me about the risks and assured me that I did not fall into any of the high risk categories. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had never had surgery before, only stitches! General anesthesia is weird folks! I luckily didn't have a bad reaction to it, just confused and very out of it. I also woke up in a lot of pain. I lost about a liter of blood during the procedure and apparently had an "angry, spitting uterus" according to the doctor. I didn't need a transfusion, but it did require that my entire vajayjay be packed to prevent more bleeding. Yes, I said packed. It was so painful! There is some special thick gauze that they used and honestly packed an entire roll of it in there to ensure that I didn't bleed out. That combined with a catheter made for a painful night despite morphine followed my hydrocodone. My nurse that evening must have thought I was such a whiner! Everything hurt, my catheter, the packing, my arms/shoulders, I was thirsty, my throat hurt from being intubated during surgery, and I came back to my room with tears streaming down my face for some unknown reason. I was so emotional from leaving the baby, worrying about myself, missing the kids, feeling like I put everyone out, having to pump and dump, Rachel having to stay the night with a newborn and feed her with the bottle (her first bottle!), etc. I was just bawling and I remember the nurse asking me if I was scared or in pain. Neither, both, I don't know!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Thankfully I got to come home Sunday afternoon and once I got off the hydrocodone I started to feel a lot better. It was quite an ordeal. So, I am basically starting over with recovery. I feel a lot better than I did. Oh, and P.S. Jason asked the doctor. "Is this because we had a homebirth?" The doctor replied, "No, absolutely not. I have seen this happen in hospital births as well. I just put this type of thing in the 'bad luck' category." It made us both feel better because it had honestly been in the back of our minds. Did I mention that my sweet midwife came and sat with Jason while I was in surgery? Anyway, I'm back to the invalid thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>My house is a wreck, the kids' closet looks like an isolated tornado went wild in there, there are baby things everywhere, my bathroom/bedroom still looks like a birth clinic, the dog hair is rampant, there's a layer of dust on all wooden surfaces, hairballs have collected in nearly every corner, and there's just so much stuff everywhere that I don't know what to do with it. Don't get me wrong, we've had lots of help from Rachel and the laundry and dishes are well kept up with, dinner has been provided pretty much nightly, and I did clean a toilet out! I want to cook a good meal for my kiddos, have a shiny floor, vacuum the couches, dust, have an orderly room so I can sew something, and just feel like a normal mom instead of a cabin fevered sickly lady in a very nice assisted living home! :) A sweet friend got me a gift certificate for a full house cleaning, so I think I'm going to take that up at the end of this week but I have to clear away all the clutter first so that someone could actually find a surface to spray cleaning supplies onto! </div><div><br /></div><div>Did I mention that my big kids are going to Missouri this week/weekend? Yep, Nana is taking them to visit their cousin and aunt and uncle. They leave today and don't come back until Sunday afternoon. Freddie went last year, but this is the first time Addie will be away from home like that for so long. She's spent two nights away from us when we went to Dallas in May and that's it. I am a little heartbroken and very apprehensive about the whole thing, but everyone keeps reminding me that I need the rest and recuperation time. I hardly intend to rest..well maybe sleep in quite a bit :), but I hope to get things back in order around here so the kids can come home to a new normal for the rest of the summer. We've got things to accomplish and a baby to get incorporated into our lives, and I'm tired of being too weak to participate in things. I am stuck at home right now while the kids and Nana and Daddy are at the library for storytime. Granted, I am glad to be home with the baby...but I'm tired of my kids missing me and poor Addie being traumatized when I leave a room. So, pray for me to use good judgment, keep a good/safe pace as I work, keep myself healthy, and for this dern sweet baby to sleep before 12:30/1:00 am!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am even going to make a grocery store list and ask Jason to go fill it! HAHAHAHA!! Ooh, or maybe I'll go with and just ride in one of those Wal-Mart motorized carts!</div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-75538751976956772942011-07-07T12:20:00.003-05:002011-07-07T12:35:14.089-05:00The Ladies want to go on Strike!Yep, the ladies I'm referring to are my boobs! I am a strong advocate for breastfeeding and I intend to push on through, but I am not an advocate for lying to women about the challenges that breastfeeding presents. I remember when the nurses came to 5th grade to have "the talk" with us. The girls were in one room and the boys another and we were allowed to ask questions about puberty, periods, pads, and pubes. :) Gross. Anyway, they completely lied to us. There would be no pain associated with having your period, there are only a couple of tablespoons of blood, no smell, no one will know or notice, on and on. Imagine my shock when I was doubled over with cramps, changing huge diaper pads every hour, and horrified that everyone in my family could see it coming a mile away! <br /><br />So, breastfeeding was presented to me as this beautiful, natural, organic experience filled with love hormones, joy, pride, and ease. Um, nope. Breastfeeding is beautiful and natural, but so is labor and birth. It is hard work, requires preparation, knowledge, strength, and dedication. It hurts, it takes away your control of your own body, it can be very difficult to fit in today's society, everyone has their own opinions about it, few are actually supportive, and you feel often like there is a big banner over your head announcing that your milk just let down, your breastpad is about to leak through your shirt, your boobs hurt, your nipple is cracked, the lanolin has left grease stains on your nursing tank, this stupid nursing cover is making me and the baby all sweaty, I'd rather just show the world my boob but my poor husband would likely be rather embarrassed, this baby won't stop eating, you feel like a human pacifier, and you would really with a lot of guilt and shame like to shove a bottle in your baby's mouth so you could sleep! <br /><br />Too much honesty?? Sorry! Other days I feel like the best mother alive and that I'm providing my baby with the best start in life, my milk is actually changing not only the amount I produce but the actual calories, fat, and makeup of the entire substance to meet Charlie's nutritional needs. My milk is perfect in every way for her little body. She gets so much comfort when she latches on and can instantly relax her whole self and settle in for what seems like the most peaceful and enjoyable activity on the planet. I never have to go sterilize a bottle or mix up formula. Charlie's breath is sweet and her spit up doesn't smell at all, unlike that rotten potato smell of formula. Her poop is easy to clean, easy to pass, and hardly has a smell. She is content and there is always a supply on hand. I am reducing my chances for breast cancer while improving my baby's immune system, brain function, digestive functioning, and possibly increasing her sensitivity and intelligence. I am speeding my own recovery from childbirth and releasing powerful hormones that help me and Charlie bond with one another. Nursing is burning calories, allowing me to take in extra nourishment for myself while also speeding my metabolism and helping me lose the baby weight. I am a lovely picture of motherhood. God created me perfectly to nourish my child and grants me the strength and energy to do so daily.<br /><br />Talk about some cognitive dissonance, folks! My advice to anyone who cares for it, try and focus on that second paragraph as often as you can but don't feel bad when the first one rears its ugly head. I just wish that women were nicer to each other, congratulated each other daily on even the small accomplishments we make, and found it impossible to judge each other for the choices we make or ways that we live that are different from our own. C'mon ladies, let's pat ourselves on the back and then go pat a friend on the back too!Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6125624548278070697.post-18225411817540967882011-07-03T11:43:00.006-05:002011-07-03T12:45:18.578-05:00Charlie's Birth Story - Part 2<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Where was I....<div><br /></div><div>Oh yes, the fog! I was hanging in there and I remember folks coming to check on me, but I was very focused on my noises and preparing for each contraction. At around 2:30, Mary arrived to find me in a 30 second break. I was sitting in the bathroom and she placed the birthstool on the floor between the foot of my bed and the bathroom door. My mom helped me move to the stool where Mary was able to check my cervix. I was seven centimeters! It had gone so fast I could barely believe it. With Adeline it took me like 20 hours to get to 6. I was amazed and not afraid. I could see the birth pool across the hall set up in the serene nursery. Our bedroom was not so serene, tossed about with towels, birth supplies, a glass of ginger ale, ice chips, clothes stripped off from the heat, etc. Mary asked me if I wanted to go to the pool, but I told her I wasn't sure if I could make it. Amy, Mary's sweet and wonderful apprentice told us that there wasn't quite enough water in it yet anyway. Oh well, I had 3 more centimeters to go before pushing, we'd make it. </div><div><br /></div><div>All of this happened in about 30 seconds. Mary got up and walked around behind me to get something and all of the sudden another contraction hit, but this time at the peak of it I felt something new and kind of exciting. I needed to push! I started calling out, "Mary, Mary, I..I...I need to push." This look of shock crossed her face and she came directly back to me to check again and I was indeed 10 centimeters and ready! I asked for everyone that was missing, I think Rachel was outside the room waiting because she figured I still had awhile to go. Everyone crowded in and I started pushing with each contraction. It was not peaceful, lovely, gentle, etc. The sensation of needing to push was the most powerful thing I've ever felt and it was involuntary. The control I had was only with my breathing, my vocalization, and the strength I put behind each push. There were complete primal sounds coming out of me but I managed to keep my muscles in my face and torso as loose as I could while I beared down with my arms and legs. My mom held my hand as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom, I pulled my other hand against the footboard of my bed, and my sweet husband sat in a chair behind me and pushed on my lower back and put his head into the back of my neck so I could just use that base to push against. He told me I was doing great and that he loved me, which I could only hear because he was right next to my ear. Otherwise, my sounds definitely would have drown him out. There were very few breaks, but it seemed like no time before I felt that incredible pressure and stretching and burning referred to as the "ring of fire." It was her head! I could feel her come out with the push then recede a little and it burned oh it burned. I looked at the midwives and then up at my friends and shook my head and said, "It burns, it really burns." They smiled, Amy smiled so kindly and said, "That's good, you're just stretching. Feel your baby's head." I did, I reached down and touched her soft squishy hairy head and felt re-energized for the next push. It took about two more good pushes and her head was out, sweet relief!</div><div><br /></div><div>I'd like to say what most moms do, that after that her body just oozed on out easily and then I had this amazing endorphin rush and everything was beautiful. That's not the case though. I took a small rest then resumed pushing but she wasn't coming. Her shoulders were stuck. At this point my eyes were closed in concentration, but I could feel that I wasn't making the same progress with each push. The midwives immediately told me to move to my hands and knees and in the moment I was thinking I couldn't do it, there I was on hands and knees to help open up my pelvis to get her out. I beared down and pushed with all my might as someone (probably my mom) was yelling at me to push hard. I replied near tears, "I'm pushing as hard as I can!" I felt a little more progress and didn't know at the time, but her little face was turning from blue to purple and her shoulders were actually stuck so tightly that it was cutting off her circulation. There was no cord in the way though, her little shoulders were just flexed all the way out instead of folded in like most babies. Then they needed me to roll onto my back and helped me do so. In an instant, Mary and Amy reached down and grabbed Charlie under her arms and pulled her free on my next push. </div><div><br /></div><div>They laid her on my stomach and time stopped. I thought Mary said, "There's no pulse." Jason thought she said, "She's not breathing." Either way, not good. I had one hand behind Charlie's head and the other wrapped around her little chest. Mary immediately began CPR. I could feel Mary's breath going into Charlie's chest and then I could feel and hear a little wheeze from baby girl. Then she started chest compressions. I was just praying, "Dear Lord Jesus, be with her, help her breathe. Breathe life into her, Lord. Protect her and bring her to me God." I remember those words and this amazing faith that God gave me in that moment. Some may call it arrogance, but not once during those moments did I even consider or conceive that she would not make it. I much more truly understand the faith of a mustard seed now. It just takes really needing to move a mountain to get it I think. No doubt, just blessed assurance. Thank you, God, for giving me that gift in that moment. In two rounds of breaths and compressions, Charlie let out a little rattle and I began to cramp instantly knowing the placenta was coming. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as the third midwife had showed up and caught the placenta as Mary and Amy gave Charlie some oxygen and watched her turn pink. They dried her off and checked her heart and her breathing and she was okay. They managed to get me into bed and brought her to me and laid her sweet little swollen chunky body next to mine as I ate some watermelon chunks and drank water trying to regain some type of strength. All of that was foggy too, but I remember feeling so cared for, loved, blessed, and safe during that time. I was disoriented but not scared or confused. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MFcZMWT4UP4/ThCpUk2bMqI/AAAAAAAAAkg/AUmJ8kvpuNQ/s400/IMG_0242.JPG" /></div><div>Charlie weighed 10 lbs and .5 oz for real! No wonder her shoulders got stuck, which my consulting doctor warned me could happen especially with being diabetic and going 10 days overdue! We really didn't think it would though, but the midwives were prepared and did exactly the right thing. Soon after delivery I had to get up to use the bathroom but got dizzy and lightheaded. They had to help me down to the floor where I honestly laid with a pillow and a blanket for 45 minutes before they could convince me to move. Charlie was asleep peacefully in her bassinet and I was asleep peacefully on the cool tile of the bathroom floor! Jason said he tried to get me up and I replied, "I'm not getting in that bed." Our bed is really high people!</div><div><br /></div><div>I was fine in a few hours, only needed three stitches (which I claim as a major victory after having a 10lb baby wrestled out of me!) The midwives took excellent care of me and my family and friends have been amazing. I had my very own postpartum doula named Rachel, who has been here every day helping since Charlie was born. I am so grateful.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, here's my reflection after a week. I am broken hearted that her birth was labeled as "traumatic." I don't care at all that it went so fast, that I didn't make it to the pool, that there weren't candles and music (wait, my mom brought my candle in the room when it was time to push because she knew I had a dream so she tried to make it have one element!), or that I was a primal cave woman instead of one of those little "oh me, uuggh" and then there's a baby. Mary said, "Well, we talk about home birth as this beautiful peaceful event, not this railroad, super speed type of thing!" Oh well, there were some scary elements to her birth, but the overall experience for me was amazing. I felt and feel powerful and amazed. I feel completely reassured that my midwives are the most loving, competent, and prepared choice that I could have made for my care and Charlie's. I feel that if I'd been in a hospital, a very similar problem could have occurred but with much more invasive results ending in more pain and recovery for everyone. That could have been an emergency c-section, 10 nurses pushing on my belly to get her out, a broken clavicle or dislocated shoulder for Charlie, a crazy episiotomy that I may never have healed properly from, and fear, confusion, loss of control and dignity, and all that combined. I know some folks won't agree, but that's okay. We all have choices and decisions to make in our lives that nobody else can make for us. I heard on a documentary one time an OBGYN saying, "I don't understand the pride thing in natural childbirth. I mean, when you're walking down the street pushing your three month old in the stroller it won't really matter anymore if you pushed it out without drugs. It just doesn't matter." I never thought of this as a pride thing, and it isn't. However, I finally got out of the house the other day with the family and I felt like I had this secret. Someone will say Charlie is such a pretty baby and I would think to myself, "Yup, and I pushed her out without so much as an ibuprofen!" Isn't that terrible? :) I just maybe doubted myself until that moment, doubted I'd have the strength and kept it all in an open hand without concrete plans because who knew if I'd give up and beg to be sent to the hospital for an epidural. Now I know that I can do it, I did do it, God is amazing in his plan and perfection for our bodies and the gift of growing and bearing life into his children. I honestly don't even want to put clothes on Charlie's little rolls because it makes her look like a child of this world instead of my little infant from God, brought into the world with love and blessings, comfort, safety, and grace. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you again for your support and love, or even just your curiosity. I have worked very hard to understand my feelings on natural childbirth, breastfeeding, and midwifery care as opinions...just that, my opinions. I do feel very passionately about it though. I've read about 10 books and dozens of articles, watched multiple videos and documentaries, and talked with lots of real folks, and prayed and received much validation in these choices for our family. Please know that I would encourage any woman that her body was made for this, pregnancy is a privilege and miraculous, children are a blessing from the Lord, and labor is not impossible, it is just hard work with an amazing reward. At the very least I hope to inspire people to just ask questions. If you're 36 weeks pregnant and your doctor wants to induce, ask why! If you have a plan and desires for your birth, don't be bullied, ask questions and take charge while you can. Labor is not the time that you can make choices and take a stand on things. I tried with my first birth, but was a wimp and got bulldozed by well meaning nurses and doctors and was lucky to have gotten out of there with a vaginal delivery and no episiotomy. Everything else I wanted/didn't want was ignored. We are strong women with choices and a right to the type of birth we want and deserve. Oh, and for all of you wondering....I don't think the Allens are "done" having kids. I just haven't gotten "birth amnesia" quite as quickly as I did with an epidural! HAHAHAHA! </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-53cbszVPzag/ThCqQBlwevI/AAAAAAAAAko/2mZRM9x0YIo/s400/IMG_0267.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625183126867180274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div>Pediddlepiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05510877870408133910noreply@blogger.com8