She Likes Purple

Grocery re-cap

So, I wanted to thank you for the insanely good grocery advice you gave me the other day. I should print out each of your comments and take them to the store with me, as inspiration. So many of you have your shit together!

See, this month, Mike and I made a budget. Like we did in January and one month in 2008.

We're bad with money. Which is probably why we so rarely have any.

(But, hey, we're good with drinking games and tv watching!)

Anyway, enough was enough. We made a budget, and have been pretty vigilant this month. I'm proud of us. We've done well, ignoring the small issue of the giant tax bill we weren't expecting.

There were only three areas where we grossly underestimated things and those were: 1) groceries 2) gas (which, sadly, can't be helped since gas prices blow and I practically work in another time zone) and 3) Kyle's medical expenses.

We budgeted $75 for medical expenses, which would include all co-pays, prescriptions (Mike has asthma) and past medical pills. (We had some insurance paperwork issues around Kyle's birth and ended up having to pay out of pocket for something we shouldn't have had to pay out of pocket for, BUT I WILL NOT START TYPING IN ALL CAPS ABOUT IT. Oh wait.)

$75 would have covered what we projected for the month, but what we didn't project was that one night Kyle woke up unable to breathe because the Croup Fairy had visited. His ER visit alone was $75. So, yeah. I'm now calling that category in our April budget: Unexpected Times Life Fucked with Us.

But, groceries, yes. We went way above that budget. We looked at that budget ($400 for the month) and basically flipped it off and punched it in the face. Part of it is that I dumped a lot of things in the grocery budget because I didn't feel like itemizing receipts and using a calculator. But part of it is that I need some help in the kitchen.

I really enjoy cooking, which stuns everyone who knows me, and my time in the kitchen is pretty therapeutic. I feel I'm doing something good for myself and my family, and I hope regularly cooking now will provide a foundation for Kyle to eat healthy and well. We don't always cook, no. Sometimes I have cereal for dinner and Mike has peanut butter crackers. Sometimes Kyle has a bite of toast and is all full. But, still, I'm proud of us. We've come a long way.

We still have a ways to go.

So, for May, we're sticking to our grocery budget, so help me, and we're going to use coupons and comparison shop and combine recipes I want to try with what's on sale at the store. We're going to use loads of your tips and tricks. So, again, thank you.

Budgets suck. No way around it. But the sense of accomplishment you feel when you stick to one doesn't suck at all.

It also allows for all your bills to be paid on time. Novel concept.

Just like babies grow up in the blink of any eye, without your permission, it seems you go to bed an irresponsible twenty-something drunk off cheap beer and wake-up a parent with a budget and a plan to become better people.

Life's insane.

Food-related list items

The other night, I rewound an episode of 30 Minute Meals close to 85 times, so I could finally figure out how to pronounce Worcestershire, and I think I've finally, finally, finally got it.

Worse-ta-shure

Or worse-ta-shire or worse-ta-shear. Rachael sort of pronounced it all three ways and then Ina Garten kind of pronounced it closer to the second way.

I still think I can cross it off my 2010 list. (Sidebar!)

Last week, I crossed off "visit 10 new restaurants," since I've (surprisingly) already completed that item. I'll continue the list, though, to have one go-to place for new restaurants I tried in 2010.

I'm going to (attempt to) learn to poach an egg this weekend. Mike said he'd teach me.

Wish our kitchen and our marriage a little luck.

How do you not go broke feeding your family?

I posed this question on Twitter earlier:

Curious: how much do you spend on groceries per month? (And what's your family size?)

After watching all the answers pour in, I came to this conclusion: we've been unnecessarily paying out the ass for groceries. 

We're a family of three (although Molly does need food, annoyingly, and I include that as part of our grocery budget). Our son currently eats chocolate and the occasional bagel. Oh and water and air. No, really, it's as if he's indifferent to food these days and OH MY GOD CHILD TEACH ME YOUR TRICKS!

I've got a few ideas on how to curb this ridiculousness, and menu/meal planning is a big first step.

But, still. I'm curious (if you care to share), how much you spend on groceries a month? Also, what's your grocery process? Do you meal plan? Do you pick recipes that catch your eye or build recipes based on your pantry items? Do you shop with coupons and a plan or just meander through the aisles, eating samples and tossing fun things in your cart? (Just me?) How often do you eat out a month and do you include that amount in your grocery budget?

I'm asking advice! Pleading for it, even! Bear your grocery shopping soul, friends.

(Come on, the Internet loooooves giving advice. Don't let me down now.)

Mother's Day Gift Guide

I meant to tell you about this guide I put together recently, but I forgot. I do that a lot.

It's a lot less stress-inducing to forget to spread the word about a blog post than to, say, forget to pay the water bill, though.

(I will just say our city has the very worst website in the history of the world, and they make it impossible for you to pay online or over the phone since the city employees seem to always be out to lunch. So I end up having to mail a check three streets over. Basically, it's a damn process to give them my money each month.)

Anyway! If you are a mom or know a mom or just like buying things for moms, check out Style Lush's Mom's Day Gift Guide. Everything is under $30 because I figured that price point would make the people who know, love and shop for me more willing to buy me something off it. 

Ahem, Mike, ahem.

Grace in Small Things: Take Three

I've been perpetually exhausted lately, so I'm taking a deep breath tonight and remembering the grace.

1. After a solid month of sicknesses preceded and followed by Molarfest 2010, Kyle stopped being a crankopotamus this weekend and was just pure sunshine. He took epic naps, he laughed, he played by himself, he played in the yard, he didn't scream his head off if I left the room. Oh, it was a much-needed, soul-healing weekend that ended with Mike grilling dinner and he and I watching The Amazing Race together.

2. A delicious company dinner at Taverna last week. We were celebrating a co-worker's (and dear friend's) five-year anniversary with the company. I had a risotto dish I'm still having dreams about.

3. Keeping our house relatively clean for the last couple weeks. It's not always spotless, but it's been easy to straighten up. Unlike how it usually looks: as if we've been robbed by robbers who didn't take anything.

4. Getting back on my regular work-out bandwagon after a week or two of majorly slacking off. Jillian Michaels might still be a bitch, but she's reminding me I'm only (almost) halfway to my goal, so I can't give up yet.

5. Waiting 10 minutes. It's my new happiness trick. No matter what I want to irrationally say or how riled up I get over something, I'm trying very, very hard to wait 10 minutes before spewing my thoughts. If I can stick to this, you have no idea how many people (especially the ones who are married to me) will benefit from it.

***

What are you finding grace in these days?

The myth of walking

First, Mike's MythBusters myth! I'll gloss right over how very few of you told me how hilarious I was in the re-telling of how Twilight entered our marriage and just answer the question you're all (surprisingly) dying to know. What myth was it?

Well, Mike wanted me to clarify that although he did suggest the myth, he suggested they use slightly different materials, so he thinks he might have been one of many to suggest it.

I think he's being modest. He's totally MythBusters famous.

So, Mike apparently always wanted to know that if you were standing in the back of a moving car (going 50 mph) and you threw a baseball (50 mph) the opposite direction, would the ball fall straight down the way he heard it would. (He clearly ran in hardcore physics-loving circles in high school.)

The show used a soccer ball and some contraption-type thing that shot it out of the truck, and it turned out to be true. It was actually pretty damn cool. Especially the part where he couldn't stop grinning while watching it.

It was on about two weeks ago, Mike wanted me to tell you, in case you have DVRs and also have husbands who never delete a thing like I do.

**

But, enough about my husband's fame, Kyle isn't walking and he'll be 15 months in a few weeks. Some of you just gasped, some of you hugged your little normal walkers, some of you wished I'd stop talking about my damn non-walking kid already.

You have to trust me when I say, I'm not worried about him. He will walk, he's on his way to walking, he's been walking along furniture for months and months, but I'm just genuinely curious when your kids walked if they're walking yet.

See, I don't read parenting books, I don't read the Baby Center updates that still find their way to my inbox even though I'm convinced I've "unsubscribed" to them 85 different times. I get my parenting info from my pediatrician, Google, some blogs. And it continually surprises me how little I really know in terms of general parenting-type things.

It fascinates me how different kids really can be. So, tell me, when did your kids walk?

Enough about Lunchables! Let's talk about Twilight!

The other night, I made crab cakes (2010 list item, holla!) and cleaned the house, so when Mike offered up the idea of watching a movie, I offered up the idea of watching Twilight.

And because it was not that simple -- you should know nothing in our marriage is ever that simple (me proposing an activity Mike absolutely does not want to do and him simply saying, "sure!") -- I pulled out the one weapon that usually gets me whatever I want (no, not that, my mother reads this site). I offered to give him a back rub while we watched.

He begrudgingly said okay.

(My husband is the only man alive who would begrudgingly accept a back rub.)

At some point early in the movie:

Mike: When do they start biting people?
Jennie: Uh, later. He has to start sparkling first.
Mike: Sparkling? He sparkles? Real vampires don't sparkle.
Jennie: I think there are a few million tweens who would disagree with you.
Mike: They need to watch Blade.
Jennie: I actually don't think they need to watch Blade, baby.

Toward the end of the movie (that I have already seen three or four times), I remembered I had forgotten to write a post for The Stir and needed to knock that out, so I abandoned Twilight for my laptop, assuming Mike would turn to Deadliest Catch (the new season is way dramatic, he tells me) or Mythbusters*, but, well, uh, how do I say this while protecting my husband's reputation:

The movie stayed on. We both stayed in the room. I was no longer watching, so....

I guess we could just leave it at that. I mean he was already comfortable, the remote was clear across the room, the movie was almost over anyway.

But then.

After Mike got home the other night from hockey practice, we watched The United States of Tara, and after that was over, he said:

"So, uh, I downloaded New Moon for you."

You....did....what....exactly?

You probably don't need me to specify that I actually hadn't asked him to download New Moon for me or that I hadn't even told him there was a sequel or what that sequel was titled. 

Half-way through New Moon:

Mike: Real vampires are not this romantic. Now, in Blade...
Jennie: Please don't act like you're not enjoying this.
Mike: I'm not!
Jennie: You love it. You're totally a Twihard.
Mike: I don't know what that means, but I promise I'm not.
Jennie: Are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?
Mike: Babe.
Jennie: I'm Team Edward, but just slightly.
Mike: Jacob's a douche.
Jennie: So....Team Edward?
Mike: Please don't blog about this.

---

*Get this! Mike submitted a "myth" on the Mythbusters message board recently and they picked it! They tested the myth on a recent show. He's such a nerdy Twihard!

Doing our best is good enough

A year or so ago, a string of Hummers were vandalized at local airports. The paint was keyed, the tires slashed, the windshields bashed in. The vandals wanted to get their point across, their point being that Hummers were ruining our environment and polluting our air, the air our kids have no choice but to breathe.

They had a serious point, don't get me wrong, but it's the most irritating trick in the book: trying to educate a room by throwing a grenade into it. Then being flabbergasted when the room doesn't send a thank-you note.

That's what this post by Jessica Gottlieb reminds me of. She has a point, but it's hard to acknowledge that point when she says this:

"I am embarrassed for the women would take their hard earned social capital and give it to a product that is killing our kids and our planet."

Jessica is talking about a brand-hosted Twitter party by Lunchables, but her sentiment seems (to me) to be about any parent who would willingly buy and give their kids Lunchables or another Kraft product. (I was never allowed Lunchables as a kid, and I still managed to pick up a 6-year eating disorder; perhaps Lunchables could have prevented bulimia. Let's hashtag that!)

(I'm kidding.)

Her post reminds of something BHJ wrote the other day, something else I wrote out and put in my purse for remembering from time to time because it's just that good:

"[a]nyone who believes that the inability to achieve perfection is a reason for not beginning. It’s squinty faced laziness posing as criticism."

Not being perfect at something is no reason not to try, and giving your kids a Lunchables or a bag of Doritos or a chocolate Easter bunny (what I last let Kyle munch on) is no reason not to try to incorporate healthy changes as you can. It's also no reason to kick yourself or your parenting. None of us can be perfect parents, sorry it's impossible. Sometimes we're going to let a Lunchables (or the metaphorical equivalent) slip into our kids' lives.

We should move on and keep trying.

I just find it hard to educate anyone by starting off the discussion with the words "embarrassed for," at least not the kind of discussion that leads to real change. Instead of keying cars or insulting someone's parenting, try listening to them. Find a problem, offer a solution, make change.

I try hard to give Kyle a well-balanced diet. He's currently subsisting on air, though, by his own choosing. Apparently air is the new cupcake. When he does eat, we offer him lots of fruits and veggies and whole grains. We try to reconcile our budget with our desire not to load him up with chemicals, but sometimes something processed gets in, either because we weren't thinking, weren't watching closely, or just couldn't do any better in that moment.

I'm an advocate for mothers who want to be better, want to try harder and who are doing their best every damn day. Sometimes our best is a Lunchables meal. Sometimes it's better than that.

I think the very best thing we can do for our kids is just that: to try. To try to always be better and more than what we are. To try to give them what they deserve. We won't always succeed, god, how could we? But as long as we're trying, should we really be judged so mercilessly by those who are trying differently?

Mid-month update

This month I had a few goals: get our budget under control, get our dirty house under control, give up chocolate, give up snapping at people I care about and participate in the 29 Days of Giving exercise I've mentioned before.

New goal: make it to May.

I've done well on some things, not so well on others (uh, such as The Snapping). It is entirely unnatural of me to push forward and try harder the next week/next month when I feel I haven't done my best on something. It's unnatural to dust myself off and start over. I call it my Pass the Cupcake pattern, which sounds delicious, but it is really just metaphorically indicative of how I get when I slip up: my instinct is to say "ah, fuck it, pass the cupcake."

If I've done anything this year that I am proud of, even more than that 5K, it's dusting myself off and trying harder the next day/week/month.

Instead of saying screw it, I'm going to try harder the rest of the month.

***

Mike starts a new(ish) shift this week, and it's going to make running in the evenings nearly impossible. Unless I leave Kyle home alone, and although Molly is pretty attentive, I'm afraid she'd use that free time to exact her revenge for all the times he's stuck his finger in her eye.

So, I'm debating running in the mornings. 

I'm not a morning person. I feel good after I work out in the mornings, and it sets me up for a great day, but getting out of bed and into running shoes at 6 a.m. (when I'd need to get up) is about 10x harder than going out for a run after work. I'm a night person, always have been, but the thought of only running weekends bums me out.

Not that you can provide much more than, "Just get your ass out of bed already," I know, but if you do have morning work-out advice, I'd gladly take it.

***

Why does he look 15 here?

I think he was telling me about the unfairness of not having free access to Mike's fish tank. Or that he wanted more animal crackers. His tangents all sound the same.

***

Happy week, kids. I'm making this Caesar spaghetti at some point, which looks delicious, and am having dinner at Taverna for a co-worker, which thrills me to no end because, check out that menu, and I'm not footing the bill. So, week's highlights are all about food. No one should be surprised.

Inspiration

Kyle's croup morphed into an upper respiratory infection this week and although he's doing okay, his fever is still coming and going. I don't think our weekend will suck as much ass as last, but I'm not sure we'll do much meadow frolicking either.

(Not that we usually do much meadow frolicking. We're only that kind of family after plenty of tequila shots, but you know what I mean.)

(Also, taxes: that was a bit like a pap smear combined with a root canal combined with that one date I went on in college when the guy asked me mid-way if I was ready to take off my shirt.)

(I wasn't.)

Whenever life gets like this (read: stupid), I try to find pretty things and creativity to focus on. It helps me. It inspires me. Someone recently said all we have is optimism, and I kind of loved that. Especially since optimism comes as easily to me as a 21-inch waist. I fight for most of the optimism I have, so when I get some, I celebrate it. 

So, inspiration:

1. The project Documenting a Week in Your Life. We have a fancy camera I rarely use. I'd like to dust it off and capture what an average week really looks like for my family. From the late night molar scream-fests to the frazzled state of our living room to gas prices these days. Why not keep it real? Real can be incredible. So, I think I'll do this next week.

2. This thumbprint family tree. 

3. Linda's 30-day diet. I'm considering doing something similar this May. Just considering, tossing the idea around, thinking about it. I need to eat more whole foods and less processed ones. I've lost some weight so far this year, but I won't tell you how many packaged granola bars and 100-calorie packs helped me do it.

4. Making a plan to meet Julie for dinner. She's a local blogger, and new friends are fun. They don't know about all your crazy yet. (Kidding!)

5. Elizabeth's chalk marker tags for her re-designed nursery. She's brilliant.

6. This MacIntosh dress and this General Store blouse (both from Spool 72).

7. We have neighbors who have a boy around Kyle's age, and I see them from time to time and wave. But I've never gone over to invite them for dinner or properly introduced myself with brownies in hand. I'm scared the wife/mom won't like me or they won't be fun. Or, you know, they could be fantastic. My sister inspired me get to know them somehow.

8. Tyler Florence inspires me in many ways (ahem) but definitely with his recipes. They're not simple or meant for those of us without a cooking show and with a jam-packed schedule, so 99% of the time they're not right for my family. But, they do inspire me to have more faith in what I can accomplish in the kitchen. (I'm currently obsessed with making his chicken cordon bleu.)

9. Mexican sangria or, more like it, these pictures of Mexican sangria.

10. This multi-colored necklace. You might ask how jewelry can be inspiring, but there's not enough time in the world to answer that. Just trust me, it can be.

**

What's inspiring you?

I will use my own drink tickets this time

I went to BlogHer in 2008, and I kind of did it all wrong. First, I was pregnant and all those drink tickets were a total waste, but I also went with the wrong state of mind, too. It was fun, and I still look back fondly on a lot of it, especially knowing the baby I was collapsing into bed at 9 p.m. for turned out to be Kyle. He was nothing but morning sickness and exhaustion back then! Look at him now.

But, still, I'm going to BlogHer this year not knocked up (so help me) and with an anything-goes kind of mindset. I'm pretty good in social situations, but I let my shyness win over too much two years ago, and I'm either going to kick that completely or just fake it.

Regardless, are you going to be there? I've been meaning to ask you because I'd really love to meet you.

Also, apropos of nothing, tell me what you're coveting these days over at Style Lush.

Poetry

In listening to my Pandora station the other day, I heard Mat Kearney's "Undeniable," a song I've heard a hundred times before. Except this time, I heard it all over again for the first time.

February 5th, Friday morning, purple dawn
Broke a yawn, as a I stepped through the fog, like I stepped to a song
A moment like a poem, you wish you could hold it...

It's undeniable how brilliant you are
In an unreliable world you shine like a star
It's unforgettable now that we've come this far
It's unmistakable that you're undeniable

February 5th is Kyle's birthday, and how sweet does that make this song now? Granted, Mat is no doubt writing about some hot chick and not his kid but still:

A moment like a poem, you wish you could hold it...

I like that.

Life is crazy these days, what with croup and writing all over the Internet and a day job, too! Also, floors don't sweep themselves. You have no idea how much this annoys me.

Oh and yesterday Mike got sick.

I will not tell you which annoys me more: my sick husband or my dirty floors. Although if you know Mike, you may have a hunch. Or if you've gotten any emails from me in the last 24 hours.

It's another week when I expect a parade just for getting through it with regular showers. Making dinner stopped Sunday. 

I try to remind myself that all moments are sweet, even the moments that fill up a germ-filled week like this one. All moments are poetry.

This week just happens to resemble all those 17th century poems I spent hours and hours reading my junior of college, convinced those crazy poets were all drunk as shit and rearranging the words just to mess with students 400 years in the future.

Some days make sense. Some don't. They're ours all the same.

Croup baby and blog birthdays

Kyle has croup. You're waiting for me to say JUST KIDDING! with jazz hands and everything because, come on, how can my child be sick again.

It's possible, oh is it possible.

Saturday morning as we got in the car to take our wheezy, barking, pathetic-sounding sweet boy somewhere, I turned to Mike and asked, "So, urgent care or the ER?" "ER, I think." "Yeah, sounds right."

We were just so unfazed. So used to this song and dance. Our kid gets sick a lot. We go to urgent care and the ER more than I thought I would in the first year and some change of my son's life. We've gotten good at rolling with this shit, and so has Kyle. He's a freaking champ.

I have to say it's rather telling of the kind of hand we've been dealt when the ER nurse took Kyle's temperature and looked rather alarmed at the 104.5 reading and then looked at us, as if to quickly reassure us and say something calming, but before she could Mike and I responded, in unison, with: "That's normal." (Normal for a fever of his, I should clarify for you all.)

We're more or less all okay, even though we had to cancel tons of fun weekend plans (boo) and we're all exhausted since Kyle's stupid molars didn't get the croup memo and take the weekend off. So, cutting teeth and croup. I'd seriously buy the kid a pony if we had the money.

But, yes. Okay. We're okay.

I do have to share this one little tiny part of the whole debacle because I'll probably forget about it someday soon and I would just hate if I didn't have a place to find it. Late last night Kyle woke up, and because the wheezing sounded worse than when he went to bed, I decided to give him a breathing treatment. He was exhausted, so he didn't put up a fight. We were snuggling on the couch together, Kyle with a mask on. He looked at me, sleepily, and I smiled at him. And this boy who can't sit still, who always has something in his mouth and who has cost us more co-pays in the last year than the cost of a month's mortgage looked at me and just naturally smiled back.  It was just this moment between us. Words are failing, but it was the shiniest silver lining to croup, I'll tell you that much.

Because croup is a bitch.

 

Croup baby needs a haircut! (Rather a bath, in this particular picture, and he got one soon after.)

**

I also managed to totally forget about my blog birthday (blog anniversary? blogiversary? blogday?), which was a few days ago. I'm usually so good with birthdays, too.

I'm feeling just exhausted and emotionally zapped enough (see: Saturday morning in the ER!) to get all sappy on you about this space and what it means and what you mean and.....well, that could go on for ages. I'm chatty, you guys. Didn't you know?

I'll just say this: whenever I'm blue or lonely or feeling beaten down by debt and life and commuting and CROUP, I go back and read the post I wrote when I announced we were having a baby. I read it because each comment is so heartfelt and genuine and lovely. And it reminds me how much goodness there is in the world. How much goodness there is in my life. Because of you.

I'd love to hear from you today, just so I can have another post to refer back to on shitty days, to remind myself about all the good stuff.

I like to make it easy on you, whenever I plea for comments, so answer me this: what's the best burger you've ever had?

(Dieting makes me obsessed with talking about greasy food.)

So, croup and blog birthdays and burgers. It's a wonder any of you are reading this at all.

Addressing Anxiety

Lindsey asked, "What could you do to make your life happier? (More money is not an acceptable answer.)"

**

Fine, Lindsey, I won't say money. But how about a winning lottery ticket? Or a debt erasing fairy? Or....fine, I'll play fair.

When someone asks what you can do to make your life happier, and you consider the answer, something surprising happens. You begin to also wonder: well, why haven't I done it yet?

That question is much harder to answer.

It requires a drink or two.

Alice wrote an incredibly powerful post yesterday about anxiety and post-traumatic stress. When I got to the end, I had one scary thought: Wait, it's not normal to think that way?

I am a pretty happy person, I am. I have a really good life. As I was washing the dishes the other night, staring out into our big, stretched backyard, a wave of contentment washed over me and I felt like life was unfolding as it should. Mike and I are a lucky, happy couple with a beautiful little boy and although we face normal stressful things like debt and a perpetually sick kid and floors that need to be insulated, we have it good and we know it.

Whenever I write something like this, I feel the need to say all that because I'm forming a blog post and that's just such a tiny part of my story and even those of you who know me and spend time with me might get the wrong impression, and I want to prevent that. I want to find the perfect words so every single person reading totally understands.

Which is stupidly impossible.

So. Yes. I'm happy.

But.

(You saw that but coming, didn't you?)

I deal with anxiety. There it is.

Not in a crippling way. I think I fill my life with some pretty incredible experiences despite any hesitations, and I can hold my own quite well. I go into new situations and try new things and take my kid to the zoo and travel. But, Alice said this part in her post that stuck with me:

"I leave Scott and Henry to walk the dog, realize I forgot to lock the door, and imagine scenarios when I returned that I can't even write about here. I lie in bed imagining one of our cigarette-loving, often-drunk neighbors falling asleep with a cigarette in hand, setting us all on fire."

That's it. I do that every single day. (And, funny enough, it's something I've even written about before, years ago.) 

Part of it is being a parent and being prone to worry. Part of it is being my mother's daughter. Part of it is being human.

Part of it is being complacent enough to allow anxiety to take up residence in my brain when it has no right to be there.

I've done a lot this year to be the happiest I can be. Weight loss was a big part of that. I'm down 22 pounds (26 more to go). I run and work out. I cook a lot. I'm being more thoughtful and giving. I'm trying to be a better wife and mom.

But there's still this thing inside me.

All those years ago, when I wrote that first post, I said I was going to see a therapist and I didn't. I don't know why. I see absolutely nothing wrong with seeing one. We all have shit we'd benefit from talking about, every single one of us. Life just got busy, and I found reasons not to go. 

Three years later, and life is still busy, and I could still find reasons.

But Lindsey asked what I could do to make my life happier and I knew how to answer right away.

I could silence my brain and enjoy the sunshine. I could sit outside and wave at strangers without suspicions that stay with me for days. I could let Kyle do his own thing without always being two steps away from him in case he needs me. I could shed all the stupid fears and insecurities that hold me back from making Style Lush what it really could be. I could start writing that book about new motherhood I want to write. I could laugh at more things. I could exhale more often.

I could make an appointment and figure this shit out.

I hope I do.

This post is long and all over the place

Saturday night, my mother-in-law and I took Kyle to watch Mike's hockey game (oh, didn't you know?, Mike plays hockey). I hadn't seen him play in ages because his games are usually too late for me to drag Kyle around town, so this early-evening game seemed perfect.

I was excited! I wore a dress!

And it was....challenging. Exhausting and frustrating and the opposite of the sweet family outing I had envisioned.

Kyle has a molar coming in, so I'm tempted to issue a blanket statement to anyone we've seen over the last three days or so that my sweet child isn't usually so....horrible? screamy? scary? But, is it the molar? Or is it him being a 14-month-old toddler who doesn't walk yet? (I don't think him not walking is that big a deal, I promise, but I think it's screwing with his head a little bit. He wants to do a lot he just can't yet.)

At the game, he wouldn't sit still, he did a lot of back-arch thrashing and mainly wanted to get down and scale all the steep bleachers I wouldn't let him scale. Because of injury and bleeding and head trauma. I'm so not fun, I know!

I always fear when we enter into a particularly trying phase of parenting that this is just the way things now are. That our somewhat easy kid has been replaced with a much-harder one and, hey, I'd still love him to the moon and back no matter who he is or what he does, but it's just hard to keep your footing with a toddler who seems to enjoy knocking you on your ass.

I guess there's no real point to all that except to say that it was hard, and we won't be buying Rangers tickets until we're sure the molar is the culprit or the law no longer frowns on giving a child tequila.

Speaking of tequila, I'm on the sauce again. I gave up alcohol for Lent (even though I'm not Catholic or even a practicing Christian), and since Lent is officially over, I could be drunk as I type this (I'm not). I gave up alcohol on a whim, admittedly, but also because I thought ditching those empty calories would help out my weight-loss. Ditching them did help, which actually makes me hesitate to add a glass of wine here, a frosty beer there back into my life. So, in an attempt to keep losing weight, I'm going to continue the sacrifice (to a point). I'll only allow myself alcohol two nights a week. (I'd say just weekends, but sometimes a wild Saturday night is spent working whereas some Tuesdays require wine.)

I liked giving things up last month, and I know that sounds strange. See, I spent a lot of years being a person I wasn't that proud of being and believing I couldn't do much at all. I allowed my life (my relationships, my weight, my outlook on things) to reflect that. So, I want to give up some things this month to continue to prove to myself I can because I think when you surprise yourself, you begin to like yourself more and more. That's important to me.

The big one is this: I'm giving up snapping at people. It's something I do more than I'd like, especially with Mike, and it comes from being defensive so often. I have an incredible husband, and I don't say that to sugar-coat a damn thing, I swear it. He's incredible, but there's a lot I struggle with when it comes to him (he doesn't clean much, he avoids conflict and he's not super-romantic) and those struggles lead me to communicate by snapping instead of speaking like a normal human being.

I'm also be giving up chocolate. Mainly because there is Easter candy in every corner of our house and I may inhale it all if I don't set a rule for myself. (Moderation is still tough for me, can't lie.)

Finally, I hope you all had a nice holiday weekend. Kyle got a bubble blower, so he gave Easter two thumbs up.

 

Let's mainly focus on the desserts

I originally thought I'd talk today about workplace flexibility, although I don't think there's anything left to say on the subject. I think it's all been said. Both much, much better and much, much worse than what I could (or, hell, will) say. Look, if you know what I'm referring to, I would never begrudge Heather the opportunity to go to the White House. If the White House (especially this administration) called me up and invited me to speak on nuclear physics, I would. I'd even pretend to hate Veronica Mars and champagne if it meant a White House invitation. But, that doesn't mean I (or anyone) shouldn't be allowed to say: I hope mothers who leave their home to go to work are well-represented too. Hell, my first thought was I wish my boss was invited. No one does workplace flexibility better than him, I swear it.

Workplace flexibility is huge and it's not a blogging issue or a gender issue. Without workplace flexibility I couldn't do half the shit I do, and everyone should be so lucky as me (even though there's plenty I find worthy of complaint in my life, agreed). It's why I'm able to go to Kyle's doctor appointments and his class Thanksgiving meal and occasionally take the day off to go to the zoo instead of attending staff meetings. It's a huge, important issue (for me, for millions) and wanting to see the right representatives speak on behalf of working parents doesn't make you a troll or jealous or full of hate. It makes you a responsible parent.

So, since I'm obviously not going to talk about it (ahem), let's talk about dessert instead.

I'm sorry but sugar is much better than Internet stuff.

I'm throwing a girl's dinner at my house soon, and I'm making dessert. Maybe even two desserts if I'm feeling crazy enough

If I shared a few things I'm considering making, would you, uh, help me pick one? Oh, I know, I could easily pick one without you. Which dessert to make is not exactly a brain teaser, but you get to 1) discover great new dessert recipes and 2) have an opinion about them. I'll also tell all the dinner guests that my blog friends helped me out.

1. The Pioneer Woman's lemon crumb bars

 

2. Giada's strawberry and mascarpone-filled cupcakes

3. Banana espresso cake

4. Chocolate truffle cookies

5. Love & Olive Oil's mini chocolate cheesecakes

 

6. Orange chocolate mini-cupcakes

7. Peanut butter fudge puddles

8. Smitten Kitchen's peach cupcakes

9. Eat at Home's (great blog) apricot pound cake

 

Oh, they all look so good, don't they? But which would you like to munch on at a girl's dinner?

Also, happy weekend to you.