tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307542892024-03-14T04:52:55.508-05:00Moc MomThe semi-regular rantings of a crazy stay-at-home momErikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.comBlogger284125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-23923574791088503612020-03-19T10:15:00.000-05:002020-03-19T10:15:26.750-05:00Why Do I ForgetWords are my constant companion. I have tons of them in my head at any given time. I don't know why I forget that I have to let them out or they slowly rot like last week's leftovers. I finally realized this morning that THAT is why I am struggling so much right now. <br />
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The world has turned upside down. The novel Coronavirus is taking the United States by storm and communities around the country are doing everything they can to combat the spread and slow down the epidemic so as not to overwhelm our healthcare system. People are getting sick at an alarming rate and people are dying. I say all this so that I will remember in the years to come why the spring of 2020 looked like such a hot mess. I mean like the day after that college fraternity party where they served jungle juice hot mess. <br />
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I am struggling. I find myself unnerved because I thrive on routines. I even create routines on vacation because spontaneity is not my forte. Y'all I literally eat my snacks at the same time each day. I am a nut job. My normal routine has been upended. I am stuck inside my house with no routine. This is not good. Lots of people on social media are all, I love having my family together. The slow down is welcome. I want to feel like that. On Sunday when we found out school was closing for two weeks I felt like this was going to be my shining Little House on the Prairie moment. I was going to teach myself to sew and make yogurt in the instant pot. I am made for this! After all, I spend lots of time at home on the regular. I am a STAY-AY-HOME mom for the love. I was wrong about all of it. I am not made for this. While I do spend a fair amount of time at home, I also go to Bible study (canceled), volunteer at school (cancelled), serve with the kids theater group (cancelled) and just go to the store for groceries often (not cancelled but frowned upon.) The point is, now that I am being asked to stay home I don't want to. I mean in my head I am like a toddler stamping her feet and refusing to eat non-beige foods. I don't want to and you can't make me!!! <br />
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Then it hit me, it is not the places that I miss or even the routine. It is the people. I never realized how much I rely on being able to go to Hobby Lobby and chat with Marlene at the fabric counter. Or dropping by Target and saying hey to the long fake eyelash lady that works at Starbucks. Jeff makes fun of me because I will talk to anyone and everyone. His introvert self is embarrassed by my incessant talking to what he perceives as strangers. The thing is, to me, they aren't strangers, they are just friends waiting to be made. Even in this age of texting, I talk on the phone to a friend at least twice a week. So now I have no people, no place to exchange my words for fresh words from others. I have not spoken at length to another adult besides my husband for four days. <br />
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There are SO MANY WORDS, inside my head. When I don't let my words out they sneak out in unhealthy ways - snarky comments to my husband, unneeded reprimands to my children, harsh words for the blessed dogs even. Or they rattle around inside causing me to feel anxious from their abundance and disorder. The worried words come first and they congregate to make questions. How long will this last? Is my dad safe? Will Emmy get to do the spring musical at school? Will Sam get to have a fifth grade graduation? What about the high school seniors? Next on deck, sad words. Those poor kids have worked so hard and now they can't do their production. So many missed moments. The marathons trained for, the recitals practiced for, the weddings dreamed of - it is all so sad. Then angry words - I CAN NOT STAY INSIDE FOREVER! I don't want to! Please don't make me. Why is this happening?<br />
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Then the guilt ridden words come. The words come together to form condemnations, about how I am selfish and privileged. I am not a bar tender who no longer has a bar to tend. I am not a bus driver who no longer has people to drive. I am not worried about a paycheck or how my kids will eat lunch since school is closed. I am JUST a stir crazy housewife with too much time on her hands. Just is a very powerful word and tends to be the single spore that starts the rotting process for me.<br />
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I like to close out my day with shameful words. You are a lousy role model for your kids. What kind of Christian are you even? You are a child of God- you know to lean in to Him not the world. There are so many people who have it worse off than you. Focus on gratitude. Get it together! (These are some of my favorite words so I leave them laying about in a handy space so I can always beat my self up with them.)<br />
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Do you see how it is literally like watching organic matter decay?<br />
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So here I am letting my words out into the fresh open air. I may not be able to exchange words with real people but I also don't have to leave them trapped in my head rotting away. I don't need anyone else to consume them, I just need to get them out into the light. The Bible talks about taking your thoughts captive which means that you have to reign those words in when they start to get unwieldy. My words were starting to cause me harm so I am capturing them on virtual paper so they can come out of my head. If someone reads this and finds comfort because they too have lots of words feel free to chat with me. We could even talk on the phone, or pretend like we are at the fabric counter at Hobby Lobby. Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-82843127237250437782017-02-07T10:37:00.001-06:002017-02-07T10:37:16.175-06:00Moving Forward vs. Moving OnChristmas came and went. It was lovely, gifts were exchanged, food was eaten (a lot of food) and matching pajamas were worn. Then came New Year's Day. I love New Year's Day, not because I love parties or bowl games but because I love a fresh start. I love a new system or routine that has the possibility to change things. The trouble is that possibility only lasts a few days or weeks and then either it has changed things or, more likely, it hasn't. Then you are stuck with the reality that your situation is not going to change, at least not because you got a fancy new planer/app/book/etc. This year, my new routine actually has made a difference though. It legitimately fixed the problem. What is this revolutionary method? Are you ready for it? I make my coffee the night before. Life changing, I know. <br />
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You see mornings around here have been rough since school started. For those of you counting, that is approximately four months. School starts earlier here, which means the kids and I have to start earlier too. We are ALWAYS running late which leads to yelling and complaining. I do the yelling, the kids do the complaining. So in an effort to not have to get up at the crack of dawn but also be on time I have started prepping everything the night before. I have the kids look at the hot lunch menu at the beginning of the month. They write their initial on the days they want to have hot lunch. If they need a packed lunch I pack as much of it as I can the night before. They fill their water bottles and pack their backpacks with folders and snacks the night before. We look at the weather and figure out what they want to wear the night before. See a pattern here? I go so far as to bake muffins on Sundays so that they can get themselves a muffin and a glass of milk for breakfast every day and we don't waste valuable time deciding what to have. This had led to way less yelling and actual early arrivals at school. Unprecedented. All good right? <br />
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Unfortunately, not so much. I was still really struggling, even with my new killer routine. Then it dawned on me, this is my grief period. I do it every year to some degree. I start to shut down emotionally and internalize. I often pull away from friends and go through a long period of radio silence. In 2005, my mom died on Valentine's Day. It has been almost twelve years and starting in the middle of January each year I still go through my grief period.<br />
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It is not as pronounced as it once was and it is largely a subconscious thing at this point. In the early years I would literally relive the final months of her life, like walking the stations of the cross. We had a fantastic Christmas, she was in remission. Then in January the cancer was back and it spread. She had surgery for an ulcer and was supposed to come to my house to recover then go home for more chemo. That never happened. She died in my spare bedroom. During my early grief periods I would remember the milestones of each day. The day she couldn't remember my birthday. The day she asked for french fries even though she knew she would throw them up, but she wanted to taste them one more time. The day she stopped getting out of bed. The day I read to her from the book of Revelations because I knew she liked to be prepared and she needed some reminders about what heaven would be like. <br />
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My grief periods don't look like that anymore. These days they are just marked by a grayness that settles over me this time of year. I will say the sunshine of my new state has made things so much better. Still though, there is a subtle shift for me in January. The good news is, I remembered it early on this year. I have not been able to completely escape it but I have been able to combat it. Last year when I was doing costumes for Emelia's theater group I realized that being creative really helps me. So I have been crafting a lot. I also got to be in charge of the decorations for our school's daddy/daughter dance. This was a true gift because I got to be creative and busy while being around fun people., much like my Bye Bye Birdie days. Another things that helps me is being able to talk about my mom. <br />
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She was a remarkable woman. She was liked by everyone and infinitely kind. She loved me so much. In my life I had doubts about a lot of things but I never doubted her love for me. She was funny and loved a good fart joke. She would spend an hour in the card aisle looking for a card about farts. She loved Jesus and worked with the prison ministry at her church. She liked to shop and some of my favorite memories are of going back to school shopping with her. I can remember how much she loathed the converse high tops I bought in seventh grade. "Erika, those are BOYS BASKETBALL shoes!" To this day I have four pairs of converse. I think they make me feel connected to her. She was hard working and uber organized. When I was in high school we would go to her office and reorganize her files for fun on a Saturday. (It really is a sickness!) She loved her yard and mowing her lawn. I think because when she was done she would always have a cold beer in a frosty mug that she kept in the freezer. She was just the best. <br />
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Here I am twelve years after she died and I still haven't moved on. If I am feeling masochistic, I can still conjure up the feeling I had when the doctor told me she probably would not survive this round of cancer. I can remember not canceling her cell phone for a year because I would call and just listen to her outgoing message to hear her voice one more time. I don't live in that heavy all consuming grief very often because I find it difficult to get out from under. Sometimes though I let it wash over me because I can either spend a really long time running from it our I can spend less time walking through it. This is how I move forward. Most days I just live my life doing the best I can to make choices that honor my Savior and make my mom proud, but some days I find myself caught off guard by the potency of my memory.<br />
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That is the thing about grief, it lessens and becomes less all consuming with time but it never goes away all together. I used to berate myself for not moving on. "Dear God woman, get it together, you have got to move on!" I am much gentler with myself now because I know I will never move on. I just move forward. I move forward by loving my kids the way she loved me. I move forward by being the woman she taught me to be. I move forward by being open about my shortcomings and my pain because hiding things means moving backwards. I move forward knowing that one day we will be reunited in heaven and we can sit down on God's patio with a cold beer. Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-19058216558221137872016-11-15T09:41:00.001-06:002016-11-15T09:41:28.022-06:00PerspectiveMan alive, 2016 has been a THING. I mean seriously 2016, I am out of shock and awe. All I have left is Jesus and coffee. On a national level 2016 has been ugly (understatement). On a professional level, for both Jeff and I (I consider myself Chief Operating Officer of Mochal Inc.), 2016 has been a doozy. On a personal level 2016 has been marked by sadness and loss. <br />
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The last 10 days have been a microcosm of this year - small peaks followed by tremendous valleys. In that time, I went to a women's conference where I felt like I finally figured out my purpose - hooray, joy ensues. Then we had an election, it didn't turn out the way the world thought it would. The ugliness and vitriol that we all thought would be closing up shop on November 9 actually got worse. Cue sadness and retail therapy. (I wish I could say that as I watched people get uglier and uglier I prayed and thanked God for his sovereignty in this hot mess of a world, but in reality I ordered a pair of leopard print chairs. Listen, the Cubs won the World Series, this apocalypse thing may be coming sooner than later and if Jesus comes back in the next few months I want to have coffee with Him in my leopard chairs. Don't judge, I am just being real) Then we had a lovely weekend with our neighbors who have become true friends. Yea us! Then, last night our whole household succumbed to the torture that is second grade spelling. Divulge about did us in. We all went to bed in a funk - seriously, from spelling.<br />
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This morning as I was reflecting on the crap storm that was last night I thought man, something around here has got to change. We can't let spelling rock our world like that. Then I got to thinking, perhaps spelling is not the TRUE culprit. (I know, duh!) Perhaps there is some overarching issue that is causing feelings to be hurt and tempers to flair and the word "porridge" to undermine an otherwise really good life. Jeff remarked last night that he feels like there is so much negativity in the house. You see, that frustrates me because I have been praying for a spirit of peace in our home. I literally walk from room to room and pray. I have been praying for my kids to experience grace and compassion for each other and all they encounter. Like every darn day. What is up with that God? I mean, I know that God is not Amazon Prime. He doesn't deliver whatever we ask for in a two day window but I have been at this prayer thing for awhile now. I know things around here have to change if we are going to come out with beauty from the ashes of the things that have hurt our hearts this year. <br />
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Then this morning God hit me over the head with a message that made all the other stuff make sense. Isn't that how it always is? A series of disparate, seemingly random events happen and then God drops a little wisdom in your lap that ties it all together. You know what the common denominator is in all of this? Me. Yep, I am the chain that links all of this together. I have been praying for things to change and for people to change and for circumstances to change but I have not once asked God to change me. I never asked Him to help me have the words to comfort my girl as she continues to grieve the loss of her friend. I didn't ask Him to show me a creative way to help Sam learn his spelling words. I have not been seeking ideas from him about ways to show love in this hurting world. Ladies and gentleman, we have a winner - God change me! Change my perspective, show me how to be a light to my world. Not THE world, that is too overwhelming for me right now, just my world. Because I really do think it is like ripples in a lake.<br />
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As I thought about how I could change my perspective in 2016 I was inspired to dig a little deeper in to my role in our house and our little world. What is my purpose? I thought back to the aforementioned women's conference, where I spent a solid half a day feeling sorry for myself because I felt like I didn't have a purpose. I mean, am not Jen Hatmaker, writing books and adopting orphans. I am just a mom getting up each day and praying the kids like the hot lunch option so I don't have to make another peanut butter sandwich. How can I effect change? Then I realized my purpose is not making lunch. That is a job. Just like being a nurse or a lawyer or a barista is a job. My purpose is what God put me on earth to do that will cause others to see goodness in each other, Jesus, and themselves. <br />
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So here is what I came up with, my purpose is to LIVE REAL AND LOVE HARD. I know it sort of sounds like a bad Ed Hardy t-shirt, but give me a minute... <br />
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You see, as I have gotten older authenticity has become a very important part of my life. I want to be myself - my messy, unholy, mood swinging self because that is who Jesus loves. He did not come for perfect Erika, he came for real life Erika and real life you. That doesn't mean I am supposed to stay stuck in my muck, but I am also not to be persecuted for it either. I think I am supposed to live real, the good and the bad, so others can too. Then we can commiserate with each other and lift each other up. We can sit down over a cup of coffee and say, man I was not very kind to my kids today or my husband and I are struggling or I have really mean thoughts about myself, because we feel safe. Then I can take all of your real self and love you. Like a lot. I am not a love you with a wave as I walk the dogs kind of gal. I am a love you with a hug and a gift and a casserole sort of girl. I want to love you with a deep conversation about what makes your heart happy, what makes your hear hurt. I want to pray with you and for you and tell you how much I love you so you don't feel judged. Because you know what, the opposite of loved is? Judged. You can not offer both love and judgement. We can not be in competitive perfection mode and love our neighbor the way we love ourselves. But then, this is where things get sticky for me. I realize I can be a bit much for people. I get it. I am like a cup of cinnamon tea. Some people find it to be totally comforting and others think it is like drinking a stick of Big Red - whoa Nelly! This is where I have to circle back to the living real part because fear of judgment causes me to stop loving hard. I start trying to be someone I am not, to please people and be "normal". Then I am miserable. I suspect the experts would say I am miserable because I am living outside my purpose. <br />
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So, I think that is it, my purpose is to live real and love hard, everything else is a job. For some people the two things are intertwined. There are some people who get to fulfill their purpose through their job. I am sort of in that category but I get confused sometimes because what I do is not who I am, nor is it my purpose on earth - at least not at a micro level. I made beef stew this morning, I enjoyed it, but my purpose is not to be a chef. My purpose is to love my family by preparing some of their favorite foods (full disclosure - sometimes that love is expressed by driving to the local Mexican restaurant.). I volunteer in my son's classroom, I love it, but my purpose is not to be a teacher. My purpose is to love those kids and tell them they are doing a good job and listen to them tell the same story five times because they light up every time they do.<br />
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Ok, so if this is my purpose, how does living in it turn the tide in my home? I don't know what this looks like for anyone else, but I can tell you that when I am doing what I was made to do I feel GOOD. I feel like I ran five miles without dying kind of good. And we all know when mama is happy everyone else is too. When I am doing what I am supposed to do, then the possibility of Sam getting a 5 out of 15 on his spelling test is just not that big a deal. I will start practicing with him sooner next week. When I am being who I was designed to be, I can just hold my girl while she cries with out being consumed with "fixing it." When I am living how I am supposed to live, others are free to live how they are supposed to live. We are not designed to live in misery. Living in the spin cycle of social media and the 24 hour news cycle is not healthy. It is like my good friend Allison said, do something nice for someone it restores everyone's faith in humanity. Living like that takes you out of the big picture and puts you in to someone's actual picture. If we can be who we were meant to be and offer our authentic self to each other in grace and compassion, our little worlds would be better which I think means our greater world would be better. See, God asked us to be people of gratitude. But here is the kicker, we are not supposed to be grateful FOR the crazy, we are supposed to be grateful IN the crazy. <br />
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I will end it with this, because an analogy always helps things sink in for me. We have a lovely home here in SC, plug for visitors, and that includes a beautiful screened in porch. On Saturday morning Jeff and I have taken to going out there for a cup of coffee. I always sit in one of the chairs that faces our neighbor's house. Each week since September came I complain about the fact that the trees here just are not as pretty as the trees back in Batavia. It is too hot I say. I don't think they will ever turn pretty I say. (Just use this as a metaphor for the move.) This was my view from the chair, yep dead tree and all. <br />
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Then this past weekend I sat on the couch which faces the unfinished house on the other side of us. This was my view. <br />
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Sometimes you just have to change your perspective. Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-36425970971653743852016-10-13T08:36:00.001-05:002016-10-13T08:36:56.686-05:00Love as a VerbI haven't written in awhile mostly because I have been trying to make our house a home but also because I was stewing. A few weeks back I read this one sentence in the book "Be Transformed" a study of John 13-21. It said, "Love is an important theme in the gospel of John; it is used as a verb or noun a total of fifty-six times."I stared at that sentence for about ten minutes. Love as a verb. Huh. Love as a verb, what does that mean? <br />
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When I think about a verb, I think about an action word, at least that is how I describe it to my kids. You are DOING something. This was the crux of what I have been stewing about. I really wanted to write something about how my goal is to be someone who loves as a verb. I want to put my love in to action. I want to cook you a meal when you have a baby and buy gluesticks for the class so the teacher doesn't have to. I want to hug my kids and show my affection. I want to have an active love for my family and the world. It all made a ton of sense until last Friday. <br />
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My friend was driving her daughter and two other girls home from Spotlight rehearsal and they were struck by a suspected drunk driver. Two of the girls suffered minor to moderate physical injuries, the third died at the scene. On Saturday morning when my daughter woke up I had to tell her that her friend was gone. It was the hardest parenting moment I have had to date. I could not stop thinking about my friend and how overwhelming the feelings must be. We all say we can't imagine what that family is going through, but the truth is we can imagine it, but we don't want to. I don't want to think those sorts of thoughts or try to put myself in those terrible shoes. I was just numb but I immediately wanted to spring in to action. The problem was, there was nothing for me to "do". I wanted to love on my friends back home but I was 1,000 miles away. I wanted to cook meals and sit in hospitals and hold hands but I couldn't. I was being forced to love quietly, patiently and tearfully. I watched my community of friends rally and love each other in big ways. Through social media, I saw Spotlight kids come together and pray and love one another in the darkest of times. Our town was heartbroken and I saw people from this family's life pour out love in immense ways. I was so uncomfortable. I should be there in the middle of it all organizing and doing and helping - loving as a verb. God said, not this time. <br />
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All week I wrestled with my feelings. I cried, I questioned, I felt awful then I felt nothing because I was packing a lunch or driving to school. But I found myself constantly coming back to a feeling of guilt. This morning I realized that I have felt guilty because my grief felt like it was not profound enough because I was just sitting here holding it. I needed the families to know how much I was grieving and praying and loving and somehow bringing a casserole showed that. The thing is instead of cooking I have been praying. Instead of going to vigils I have been vigilant in protecting Em and her heart. It has not felt like enough but I don't know that anything would be enough in these circumstances. My love is typically active but right now it has to just be a presence. <br />
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You see, you can love actively without activity. I find it incredibly hard to do because it requires stillness and a quiet mind and patience. That is the trifecta of weakness for me. I stink at all three of those things. But maybe that is why God said no to my doing. I am having to love the Jonaks and the Mickeys in the stillness of God. Frankly, I've got nothing for them. I have no words. I do hard pretty well. Bringing home a new baby with two other kids under five - hard. Moving - hard. Stressful week, kids with the flu, sick parent - hard. I know what to do in those times, but heartbreak, I suck at that. The thing about heartbreak is that I am usually deep in the mud too at that point. How can I offer comfort when I am in it to? My tacos are not going to make losing Katie any less awful. Of course my kindness would be appreciated but it is still awful. The only love that can penetrate that level of pain is God's love. That does not depend on me in any way. I can be an advocate for this family before the Father but He already has them. He always will. <br />
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It feels very much like this is part of Katie's gift to our family. Katie and Emmy were very similar - smart, happy, perfectionist tendencies - but Katie had a quiet air about her. As I go forward I still want to love as a verb but I am reminded that sitting, praying, listening - those are verbs too. Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-88567333781376104032016-09-08T13:02:00.001-05:002016-09-08T13:02:12.608-05:00A Full Scale Come ApartI don't know if you are familiar with the phrase "having a full scale come apart", but it is great, so descriptive. I heard it somewhere months ago, maybe a southern author because it has a very southern feel. Anywho, it is like a melt down but worse. See, a melt down implies a constant slow fade into nothingness - think of a candle melting down. A come apart is that same thing but it is happening with force and velocity - think spontaneous combustion. Well, I had a come apart two Sundays ago. It took me awhile to write about it because I have really been processing the whole thing. What sparked it? Why was it so destructive? What do I do about it?<br />
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It was a lovely Sunday morning and I was in high spirits. We has gotten together with the neighbors the night before, the men sat on the neighbor's porch and the ladies sat on our porch. I felt like I had genuinely made friends; like, I really dig these ladies. I am still probably going to be on my best behavior for awhile (you know, no crying jags) lest they decide I am too much, but I felt good about the whole thing. We were getting ready to try a new church, we were actually leaving on time, it was all good. Until it wasn't.<br />
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We walked in to this church and it was a large church just like our old church. It seemed like your standard modern church building but I swear to you everywhere I looked the women looked like Stepford Wives. I am not 100% sure there were any men there at all, I only saw the sea of perfect women. Everyone looked fancy, like they were going to the Kentucky Derby but without hats. I swear I checked the website and it said "dress code - come as you are." It said nothing about we like to do it up around here. Y'all, I am not even kidding when I tell you I felt invisible. When I left the house I felt cute and hopeful and full of potential. Suddenly I felt like none of those things. <br />
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I realized I was totally judging all these books by their fancy covers, maybe they were Goodwill books just like me. I talked myself off the ledge. For a hot second. Then I got lost trying to drop my kids off in Sunday school. I felt the tears coming but I couldn't stop them. I started whimpering to Jeff that I just wanted to go home, I didn't belong here. Really? It is church, EVERYONE belongs there. So what on earth was the matter with me? <br />
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I sat through the service that was a prompt one hour, though it felt like seven. When we picked the kids up, the first thing out of both of their mouths was, "We love it here!" Of course you do. You couldn't love the church from last week that I loved. You know, the one where everyone was wearing jeans and looked like they were hanging on by a thread just like me. Here came the tears again. And then it happened - the come apart.<br />
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It was like an explosion. I was sad and angry and certain I was going crazy. I yelled then I sulked. I tried to pull it together but I just couldn't. Could. Not. Then I slept. I think I had exhausted myself with the shear intensity and volume of my emotions.<br />
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That was a long awkward day at Casa Mochal. Monday came and I tried to get back in to a groove but I was still just slightly numb. Then Jeff said he thought we made a mistake coming here and that the kids and I should move back while he finished out his contractual year and we would try to find something in Chicago. What!?!? I really thought that was all I wanted but when I was given the option that was the last thing I wanted. I do think we were supposed to come here. I do think God has something for us to do here. I don't want to go back because it will never be the same. Suddenly I was panicking. It was my crazy behavior that had caused this mess. Why couldn't I be normal like other women and just not act like a wounded bear? that day though, I had the luxury of being able to control my emotions and a reasoned conversation ensued. As Jeff and I talked about it, he said that he thought we would be fine eventually but that he was worried about the collateral damage until we got to fine. Like I said before, the ride has to end, but would I survive until we could get back to the safety of the station?<br />
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So then I started thinking about what was going on inside my brain. I looked up symptoms of every mental illness I could think of to make sure I didn't have one of those. Turns out I am just crazy, not mentally ill. As I went about my daily life-packing lunches, making breakfast, doing laundry, I pondered my come apart. I sat with it and rolled it around in my mind.<br />
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The days were getting brighter. I went shopping with my neighbor and it was super fun. Once you have been to At Home together an unbreakable bond is formed. Even as I started feeling better and better I was thinking about my come apart. After all that pondering, I still couldn't put my finger on what had happened to send me in to such a downward spiral. Then while I was singing in church the next Sunday I realized what my problem was. We were singing a song called Good Good Father and the chorus says "You're a good good father, it's who you are. And I'm loved by you, it's who I am." That's it! Who am I?<br />
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I have always struggled with defining myself by my external circumstances. When I worked I would introduce myself and immediately tell you where I worked. Work defined me. When I started staying home I struggled with my new identity because vacuuming did not seem like nearly as cool of an identity marker as my fancy PR agency. Then, over the years I found my purpose in volunteer work at church, in school, wherever they would have me. That became my identity. I was the giver. I actually quite liked that identity - it felt the most authentic to me. I know that I am supposed to find my identity in Christ - the daughter of the king - and on my best days I can totally find that sweet spot. On most normal days though, I can not quite get my tiara on straight enough to rest secure in that. Just telling it like it is. I work to find comfort in that but it is not innate for me, even after 13 years of following Jesus.<br />
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So there I sat, trying to figure out who I am. I decided to be super authentic and fess up to the "real" me.<br />
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I am an uptight hippy. I am an orderly gypsy. I love rules but sometimes I want to break them. I love Jesus, a lot, and I talk about that. A lot. I yell at my kids more than I wish I did but I also love them more than I ever imagined I would. I love dogs - all dogs. My husband is my rock and if the love I have in my heart could make its way to the surface and show up in my actions we would never have another issue again. Unfortunately, some days the love I have for ironing is what makes its way to the surface and I am not as kind as I want to be. I have thirty pounds to lose but lately I like Mexican food and margaritas more than I like skinny jeans. I am not fancy. Fanciness scares me - I never feel like I am enough in the face of fanciness. When I lived in LA I spent a lot of time feeling like I wasn't enough. That is bad for my soul, so I try to avoid it. I love people, even fancy people - they scare me but I love them. My heart gets filled by doing stuff for other people. I don't like brown. I wish I ate more vegetables. I love to watch TV - no really, I love it. I have a tender heart. I talk really loud, especially after the aforementioned margarita. <br />
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You see, I want to be myself and be accepted and loved for that so badly that I can feel the sting of tears when I think about it. I wish I didn't care what other people think, but I do. <br />
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So that is me. I am a hot mess but I sort of feel like we all are if we are being honest. Or maybe honest isn't the right word, maybe vulnerable is the right word. I am a paradox on many levels and I don't claim to be the same on Tuesday as I was on Saturday. I have some core tenets that I try to stick to but I am a work in progress. The passing of each year changes my perspective on at least one thing. The fluidity of it all is sometimes hard for me. I think as I looked around that church I saw bits and pieces of myself in all those other people but I could not find anyone who was enough like me to make me feel wanted. I somehow came to the conclusion that if no one is like me and I don't have it all together than all these other people MUST ACTUALLY HAVE IT TOGETHER. Holy hotdog, the only thing that scares me more than fancy people is fancy people who have it all together. I just can't! <br />
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The thing is after breaking it all down I can totally see the faulty logic. It is like watching a magic trick in slow motion. It is all just smoke and mirrors when you really look in to it. I don't know a single woman in that church but I can say with absolute certainty that at least one of them does NOT have it together. Because really, do any of us have ALL of it together? Nope, I do not believe that we do. I had found the source of my come apart - I was trying to be someone I wasn't and it made me cray cray.<br />
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By the way, the church that I was sitting in when I had this revelation was the exact church that had been witness to my come apart the week before. I swear they replaced the whole congregation. No one looked perfect and fancy and mint julepy. They were all wearing jeans and getting their worship on just like me. I am not sure where all those Stepford Wives went. Perhaps all those people were simply reflecting my own identity crisis back at me. What do you think?<br />
<br />Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-71874743790352874252016-08-25T09:29:00.000-05:002016-08-25T09:29:38.960-05:00Grace, Gratitude and GoodwillOur theme for this week has been grace and gratitude. Jeff is out of town which meant I was going to have to tackle mornings on my own. I normally love mornings. I am a morning person, but I really like to have some quiet time in the morning before everyone else gets up. The problem is, school starts at 7:40 which means I have to get up at 5:00 to get in any meaningful time before the rest of the gang has to get up. It just has not happened since school started. As it is, I am getting up at 6:00, to get them up at 6:30 with the goal of leaving at 7:20. So mornings around here sound something like a SWAT team training exercise. "Are you focused on your next thing?" "Today is P.E., do you have the right shoes?" "Go, go, go - there is not time for bed making!" Add to that two dogs that need to go out, a cat who likes to leave occasional poop presents in our bathroom and a coffee deprived mom and it is a recipe for disaster. I knew that going into this week, so I decided we needed to head it off at the pass. I read somewhere that it is impossible for gratitude and anxiety to exist in the same space, so I wondered if the same thing could be said of gratitude and grouchiness. I decided to try. My mantra was gratitude not grouchiness. I threw the grace in there because sometimes I found myself failing at the whole gratitude thing so I had to give myself some grace.<br />
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Parking lot that for a minute, let's talk about grouchiness. I feel like it is a great catch-all word, but slightly deceptive. Think about Oscar the Grouch, the green guy who lives in the trash can on Sesame Street. He can not find anything positive to say - at all, ever. That is the portrait of my grouchiness, nothing good to say, only nastiness coming out of my mouth. You know - complaints, criticism, griping, etc. While Oscar may have been pretty harmless, my grouchy ways are not. There is nothing worse than sending your kids out the door in the morning with criticism ringing in their ears. I know this because I have done it. It makes them feel bad it makes me feel bad and then I have six hours of stewing and berating myself before I can apologize. Definitely not harmless.<br />
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Back to the gratitude experiment... I discovered that gratitude and grouchiness can exist in the same space (dang it!) but you have to really work at it. Sort of like rubbing your tummy and patting your head - it can be done but it doesn't come naturally. That was good news for us. As we focused on gratitude we weren't griping at one another as much. When we said, "thank you God" for what we did have, we were less likely to think about what we didn't have. There has still been sadness and loneliness and all the other things that were there before we started our gratitude experiment, but they didn't feel quite as powerful. In fact, some of them seemed to subside a little. <br />
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Grace and gratitude have helped us out tremendously this week. It felt foreign and awkward at first, and honestly, I had a hard time actually feeling my thank yous initially. As I got in a rhythm, it came more naturally. When I didn't feel it or just couldn't be thankful, that is when the grace part came in. When I was cursing the dumb lace up basketball shoes that cost me precious minutes to get on in the morning, I had to give myself grace. Giving myself grace also did not come naturally for me. It still doesn't but I am forcing the issue because it is terribly hard to be grateful when you feel like an ass. When you give yourself grace, you can let your guilt go and make room for gratitude.<br />
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We have had some trying times this week. Maisy disappeared for two hours and came back injured. Sis got braces and is feeling a bit insecure. Sam confessed that he misses AGS so much he still says the GUS pledge in his head every day after the Pledge of Allegiance. There have been tears just like every week since we moved here, but we are making it through. Life hasn't been as hard as I thought it was going to be this week. I even went thrift shopping for the first time since we moved here. I CAN NOT express gratitude for the Goodwills here. I went to four, they were all terrible. I am choosing to offer the Goodwills grace instead. : )<br />
Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-40993664858895861452016-08-21T19:52:00.003-05:002016-08-21T19:52:44.179-05:00The Myth of Continuous Forward ProgressI struggle with the concept of continuous forward progress. All our lives we make progress. You go from third grade to fourth grade, you go from being an Assistant Account Executive to being an Account Executive. We are constantly moving forward. It is great, except of course, when it is not. What about when you take a step backwards? Or worse yet, when you take one step forward and two steps back? Are you failing? Is it still progress?<br />
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This concept has been a point of contention for me on so many different occasions. When my mom died I was a mess. Like an unholy super sized hot mess. I would think things were getting better than they would suddenly get worse. I was lost. When my dad was sick in the hospital he would seem to be getting better one day and then the next he would be really ill again. I was so perplexed. This was the first time I identified the myth. I was grilling his doctor and he looked me in the eye and said, "healing doesn't happen as continuous forward progress..." What in the world? Why on earth not? How can you possibly measure success? Most importantly, how do you know when you are out of the woods?<br />
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So here I am many years later and while I know that there really is no such thing as continuous forward progress, I still long for it. I want to have a good day followed by a better day, followed by a fantastic day and then I will not have any more bad days. Yep, that is the fairy tale I want. The crummy thing is, I know it is a fairy tale but when it doesn't happen I struggle.<br />
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This week I felt like we had turned a corner. The kids made friends. I went to a PTA Meet and Greet where I met people and greeted people-winning. My sister-in-law and niece came to visit, score, our first visitors! You see, building blocks to my house of happiness. Then today it crumbled. We all cried, we were tired, we said things we didn't mean. Sad feelings were magnified...by a thousand. And for some reason it feels like my blocks never even existed in the first place. Why is that?<br />
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It's funny, I was also thinking about contentedness this week - or more precisely my lack thereof and I am realizing these concepts are linked for me. I have a hard time holding on to my happy. This is why forward progress is so important to me. When someone says it isn't about the destination, it is about the journey. I nod my head and smile but I secretly think - CRAZY TALK. I know this about myself and I recognize it as a flaw. I am just not really sure what to do about it. <br />
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I think that is part of what this blogging journey is about. I want to work on holding on to my happy. I want to recognize that even when you take two steps forward and one step back you are still not at the starting point. I have to remember that continuous forward progress is a myth but movement is movement and it means I am doing it. I am meeting a challenge and doing the best I can and that six months from now, the days I went backwards won't be that memorable. Instead of fleeting happiness I want to cultivate lasting joy. Now to figure out how... Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-24797091616692635932016-08-15T08:31:00.000-05:002016-08-15T08:31:29.578-05:00Day One <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today is the first day of school. Not going to lie, I am probably more nervous then the kids. Friendships are such a big deal to me. It took me a really long time to learn how to be myself. I spent most of my school years being who I thought I was supposed to be. That works great except everyone has a different opinion of what that is. Cue, schizophrenic posturing. I really came into my own as an adult, more specifically as a wife and mom. There are definitely elements of my school age, college and working adult personalities that are still with me but I have gotten to a place where I actually like my quirky, type-A, mom self...most of the time (thanks for that hormones.) </div>
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All this to say, my kids are not like that. They are just themselves. They don't seem to care about being cool. (Em's exact words, "Mom, I don't think I will ever be cool, but that is ok. It is more important to me to be smart because that is the gift God gave me and if I don't use it then I am wasting it.") She wants to be liked, but she wants to be liked for who she is. She doesn't want to pretend to be someone else. That is one reason leaving Batavia was so hard. She had some really good friends, at school and in her theater group, who got her and loved her that way. </div>
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Sam just wants someone to play video games with and a compatriot for recess. He is one of the most loving kids I know. He had some kids in his class last year that had pretty significant emotional needs. He was always the first to stick up for them., tell them things would be ok or invite them to a playdate. He is Jeff - easy-going, kind and lovable. </div>
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As I was praying for them this morning, I just asked God to give them a pal for lunch and recess. The idea of them sitting alone at lunch or playing alone at recess is almost more than I can bear. The ridiculous thing about that is that they would probably be just fine, but this mama's heart can't take it. I even packed Em a peanut -free lunch in case the new friend God has for her has to sit at a peanut free table. (It is good to cover all scenarios when worrying about your kids!)<br />
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My children, especially Em value friendships the way I do. They are social kids. They want someone to lean on and they really want to be that for someone else. They also just want someone to play dolls and legos with. As mature as Sis is, she is still a little girl who likes to play house. <br />
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So, with all the feels going on this morning, I could not keep it together. I was doing so well until I pulled into the drop off lane. Then I was cheerful crying, you know where you try really hard to pretend you are not crying while talking in a totally unnatural voice about how great everything is going to be. "You guys are going to have a g-g-great day!" "I c-c-can't wait to hear a-a-all about it!"<br />
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As we got to the actual spot where you open your door to get out, there were fifth grade kids welcoming every child that got out of the car with a friendly "good morning!" The poor girl had the audacity to look at me and say, "have a great day!" Then came the ugly cry-the heaving, sobbing, I actually can not see out of my liquid eyeballs right now cry. Thank goodness the line to get out was moving slowly and I could sort of make out the maroon mini-van in front of me. <br />
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What to do with myself now? I went to the paint store, because nothing else is open at 7:40 when school starts here and I could not stand to go home just yet. I just silently weeped as I tried to pick a sunny yellow for the walls of Em's room. I pulled it together long enough to sort through the 50 shades of whitish/grayish/taupeish paint I was considering and then took my multiple paint chips and got back in the car to cry some more. The good news is at this point I think I am all cried out.<br />
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Someone will be kind to them today, I know this because that is just how God works. They may not meet their new BFF, but they didn't meet their Batavia besties on day one either. If all else fails, I will take them for cupcakes - if I survive the pick up lane.<br />
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<br />Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-50775702122957575222016-08-12T06:40:00.000-05:002016-08-12T06:40:47.300-05:00Brighter DaysTwo nights ago, I had the most amazing dream. My friend and I were on a big red roller coaster and I was terrified. I was screaming bloody murder and crying and completely losing my mind. My friend, on the other hand, was happy - screaming and throwing her hands in the air. The ride was one of those that goes backwards so you can't see what is coming, you know, the worst kind. I could not for the life of me figure out how she was so calm. She leapt off the ride exhilarated and I got off complaining and crying. I asked her how she could enjoy that crazy ride. "It was so scary," I said! "You couldn't see what was coming," I cried! Then she looked at me and said, "but I always knew it would end."<br />
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The reason this is so profound is because this particular friend has been in a difficult season with her job for three or more years. She is a teacher who stayed home with her kids but then she wanted to go back to work. She found a job, then wasn't brought back the next year. She had a long term sub job, but it wasn't the right fit and she wasn't brought back when the other teacher came back. She spent a year subbing but was really hoping for a permanent position. Just the other day, she got her dream job in a school she loves with a team she adores. Now, I have been through this season with this friend and I have seen her discouragement but always she came back to "I know God has a plan and His timing is perfect." I have learned so much from her. In this dream though, I learned the ultimate lesson. Even though she could not see the twists and turns as they were coming she always knew that each terrifying drop would eventually end with her safely back in the station. <br />
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I know it sounds completely CRAY-CRAY to say God spoke to me in that dream, but I am certain that He did. I awoke from the dream filled with hope. I just knew that the boxes would all get unpacked and the stuff around the house would get fixed. The kids would make friends and I would too. Joy will be had, maybe not on the actual ride, but I know that the ride will end. Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-54441440265576240432016-08-09T08:18:00.000-05:002016-08-09T08:18:02.721-05:00It Has Been AwhileSo, clearly life happened and I gave up blogging. I am not sure why I didn't go back to it, other than I just found it harder and harder to find time to compose cogent thoughts. Also, I think Facebook sort of took over in the thought sharing category. I am still not convinced the world needs to know everyone's thoughts and opinions all the time, but alas I seem to be one of the few.<br />
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Why pick up this blog now? Honestly, because I am struggling and I am looking for a place to get some mental relief. Here it is August of 2016 and my kids are seven and nine and a half, my husband works for an entirely different company and oh yeah, we moved to South Carolina last week. Leaving my home was hard, really hard. I have moved five other times in the course of my life but this one has been the hardest. In Batavia I had amazing friends, my kids went to a great school full of good friends for them and I felt established. I had a house I loved (although I am sort of having ex-boyfriend syndrome with the house - you know, you forget all the bad stuff and only remember the ONE time he brought you gas station carnations.) But, more than anything, I had order and routine and places that were mine with people who knew me and liked me - the real, quirky me. I could find things in Target; even secret, online-returned, deeply discounted things that were stuck on a back end cap. I knew which light switched controlled the same light even though they were at opposite ends of the hallways. I has stash spots for my miscellaneous junk. You get the idea. My friend Lorie once said, "one of our greatest desires is to know and be known." I don't know anything and I am not known by anyone. It makes me sad.<br />
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I am trying not to be negative, although often I am not trying hard enough, because the whole family is struggling and as Jeff says, "mama makes the weather." If I can pull it together and not be a pill everyone else is more likely to do the same. I also know that Jeff struggles with feeling guilty. He brought us here for a job. Although, we believe with all our heart that this is God's plan for us, but when I look at the boxes and the chaos and the never-ending to-do list, doubt creeps in. I get a terrible case of the "what ifs." What if this isn't God's plan? What if we never find a church? What if I don't make friends? What if this house never feels like home? What if I never find my way in Target? Or my biggest, most real fear right now, what if I never find joy again? <br />
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I know all the Biblical lessons on joy and that they don't come from circumstances, etc, etc. I know that I am to find joy in my relationship with the Lord and that joy is different than happiness. I have talked about all of these concepts a million times in Bible study but at this very moment I've got nothing. I feel like an empty cavern. I feel far from God, which seems odd given I am residing in the "Bible belt." I feel perpetually confused and out of control. I know that control is a total illusion but I don't know where to go or what to do. I have amazing friends, lots of them and they are all a phone call/text message away but I don't even know what to tell them. "Hi, I can't remember what light switch turns on the kitchen lights and it sends me in to a tail spin every day?" "I can't find my gum ball machine painting and the thought of losing my $10 painting from At Home makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry." "There are so many boxes in every room and I don't know where to start which means I can not even make a list which means it feels like the walls are caving in on me."<br />
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You see, even as I type this I feel like a selfish, brat. People move, it involves boxes, get over yourself Erika. Quit being a victim, stop letting your feelings dictate your day. I want to give myself a good pep talk/butt kicking but I just can't. I think that is why I decided to come back to the blog. I have been through cycles like this before. I know they end. I know that when you are able to look back and remember the really hard days you can be even more grateful for God's mercies. You can laugh about your neurotic need to master the Target and find a home for the lunch boxes. So I am writing about the beginning so that when the end comes I can remember the rescue.Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-75605742360709880582012-05-21T08:44:00.001-05:002012-05-21T08:44:47.382-05:00A New DayFor some reason it feels like January 1 to me. Around the first of the year I am always filled with a sense of optimism. I feel like I can make changes, start fresh, reboot. Mondays often tend to feel like mini-New Year's days for me but today really feels like a fresh start. I think it is because I have seen my husband for more than one hour for the last seven days. Sam's birthday was fun. We had a great trip to Notre Dame for graduation and yesterday we did yard work. None of this sounds extraordinary but it is. It is totally extraordinary because we were a team. We were a team in getting the car packed. We were a team in handling the kids in Chuck E. Cheese. We were a team when the kids got tired and cranky. Jeff is an amazing, involved, active father. He was also completely overwhelmed for most of the last seventeen months which left him for little space to be on team mommy. He still helped out but I tried not to ask to much and he did not instinctively step up the way he normally does. After about the first three months I just sort of got to used to it and it did not feel like to much of a burden but now that it is over I realize that it was really hard. It was just hard feeling like I carried the weight of the family rock. <br />
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I am trying not to whine because I certainly know that there are people out there who have it worse than me. There are single parents and there are women who are married to inattentive unavailable men. There are workaholic dads and moms who leave the other spouse to carry the entire family load. I get that, but I am not in that boat. I married a man with an amazing sense of work-life balance who comes home from work and is completely present with me and the kids. I married a man who offers to take the kids and enjoys taking the kids so I can have a break from them. I married a man who will take his children to the auto show or the air show or any other crazy busy public venue...without me. He has no fear of changing diapers or wiping tushes, he brushes hair and teeth without being asked. He reads stories and plays "tickle tickle tickle daddy eats a pickle." But for seventeen months he has not had a lot of time to do those things and if he has the kids so I can take a break, then I am not getting to see him. Most evenings I spent on the couch watching whatever while he studied. I missed just sitting with him and talking with him and being with him. I have him back and I am grateful for that.<br />
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This MBA has been good for both of us. Jeff has grown personally and professionally. It has stoked a desire to lead and rekindled his sense of who he really is. It has been good for me in a different way. While I find myself feeling a little jealous of his new found sense of self but I come away with a new found sense of who he is also. I am so thankful for him and who he is and what he does for our family. Maybe in the following months I will have a chance to learn more about myself and who I want to be as our family grows up and evolves. Maybe not, I don't know what will happen but I do know that I am not alone on team mommy anymore. Today that is good enough for me.Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-72566475789279261212012-05-18T08:27:00.000-05:002012-05-18T08:32:59.840-05:00Sweet Baby SamToday is Sam's third birthday. What a wild ride it has been. Those first six months I was not sure either of us would make it. Between the reflux he had and the post-partum issues I had, life was really dark for a little while. I am so thankful to Jeff for the grace he showed me during that time. I am grateful for my friend Kirsten who literally sat me down on my front porch and told me I wasn't crazy and held Sam while I cried. I am most amazed by God's hand at work to turn such dark first days into such a bright ray of sunshine today.<br />
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I love my little boy more than I ever thought I could. When I found out I was pregnant again I was really worried that I would not be able to love another child as much as I loved Emelia. I had such a deep and profound sense of love for her that I could not see being replicated. When Sam was so fussy and I was so sad I did not feel that love. It took me awhile to fall in love with my son. That is so hard to admit but it is the reality of that time. But when I fell, I fell hard. <br />
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He is such a sweet boy. He is loving and kind and busy and funny. He likes to say funny things and he loves to laugh. He loves his sister with a passion I did not know a three-year-old could posses. He loves to play with his daddy and do the "high-five game." He is just a joy.<br />
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There are times when I allow my mind to wander to what the future might be like. I suspect at some point Emelia will not want much to do with me. She will be fiercely independent and yet cry in my lap when that first boy breaks her heart. ( The scenario sounds familiar because I was that teenager.) <br />
Sam however I don't think will ever be embarrassed by me or want me to drop him off at the corner. Only time will tell if I am right, but I just have a feeling. <br />
<br />
I love you sweet Sam Sam! Happy birthday. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sGl0wARwSlk/T7ZPfJVcvNI/AAAAAAAAAXs/YZQCQ_NXN5o/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sGl0wARwSlk/T7ZPfJVcvNI/AAAAAAAAAXs/YZQCQ_NXN5o/s320/020.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-38868249082064355602012-05-17T17:23:00.001-05:002012-05-17T18:11:32.807-05:00FriendshipSomeone recently told me I should blog more. I often find myself with all sorts of interesting thoughts and I think, I should blog about that, but then life happens and I don't. I think I will try though. My kids are getting older and are less needy so perhaps the time will open up. We will see. <br />
<br />
Lately, I have found myself thinking a lot about friendship. What do REAL friends look like, as opposed to "Facebook" friends? How do you know how to be a good friend? Can friendship look different for different people?<br />
<br />
I have decided that friendship IS different for different people and with different people. I have a different relationship with my best friend from seventh grade than I do with my best friend from adulthood. I love them both, but the friendships are different, partly because they are different and partly because we have been through different things together. I don't see either of them daily yet our friendships survive based on those shared memories. <br />
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How do you know how to be a good friend? I believe that is a learned skill. One which is most often picked up by being the beneficiary of a good friendship. I have learned a lot about being a thoughtful friend from my friend Britt. I have never met someone as thoughtful as her. I have learned about how to be a good mommy friend from my friend Lindsey. There is no subject that is off limits, no competitiveness about our kids or condemnation of the choices we each make, just a constant sounding board tempered by accountability and encouragement. I have learned how to be a godly friend from my friend Tami, no gossip, no judgement, no selfishness, only love. My first lessons in friendship I learned from my mom, my original best friend. She was not my best friend until past the stage where I needed a mom not a friend, yet I learned about compassion, patience and empathy from her early on. If you did not have a mom like that and if you spent a lot of time around friends who trashed you behind your back and if you have not been the recipient of good friendship, can you learn to be a good friend? I think you can. I actually think you just learn to be a friend because there really is no such thing as a bad friend. A friend by its' very definition is good.<br />
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I think that you learn how to be a friend by first befriending yourself. If you do not have kindness, compassion, grace and love for yourself, you don't have any idea how to extend it to others. When you can give yourself the freedom to just be without demanding more, better, different; than you can open up room for those around you to just be also. What a difficult journey that is though. We are often far kinder to others than we are to ourselves. I recently went through a dark spell where I was feeling really bad about myself. I was talking to a friend on the phone and saying all these negative things about myself when she stopped me. She said, you can't talk about my friend that way. It was a wake up call for me because I would never allow someone to talk about my friend that way, why would I allow myself to talk to me that way. I also would never allow someone to talk about one of my friends that way. How do we stop trash talking ourselves? If you figure it out let me know.<br />
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I think one of the other difficult things about friendship is that for many people, like myself, there is an endless supply. I have room in my life for all kinds and varieties of friends. The only problem is that I have a finite supply of time. I can only give my time to so many people. That is more of a balance issue than a friend issue but what does one do with that?<br />
<br />
I recently read an article titled "Is Facebook Making us Lonely?" The theory is our breadth of friendship has grown but the depth of those friendships is shallower. Then there is the despair around the status update. No one has commented. No one likes my status. What does that mean? Does no one like me? I mean really, are all 435 of your "friends" really friends? That is not actually possible. <br />
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Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. When we deceive ourselves about our friendships it only complicates our lives and leaves us with false expectations. We end up with expectations of friendship that no one can ever live up too which only adds to the complexities of friendship.<br />
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Alas, like everything else, I think the bottom line is it takes practice, like most everything else in life.<br />
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<br />Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-38504021255820293402012-01-27T14:11:00.003-06:002012-01-27T14:11:28.680-06:00Moving ForwardToday is Day 20 and I am not exactly on the plan still. I am still eating according to the plan but I had a ton of leftovers from week 2 so I am finishing those off instead of making the new things I was supposed to for week three. I maintain that every recipe I have tried has been delicious but after 8 days of having lentil soup for lunch I am sort of over it. : )<br />
<br />
I have begun tracking my foods in Sparkpeople.com because I feel like that is the natural next step for me. According to that some of the recipes are actually lower in calories than the cleanse says they are. I have also begun stepping my workouts back up. Instead of just doing yoga I am doing three hours of cardio a week in addition to my two hours of yoga. The combination of those two things might explain why I have begun to feel hungry even after I eat. According to my heart rate monitor I am burning about 600 calories with each cardio session and some of my meals are closer to 100 calories than 200. Anyway, Sparkpeople makes sense for me. It is free, it is thorough, it is easy to use and I have had success on it before in terms of weight loss. <br />
<br />
As this cleanse comes to a close I am pretty close to my previous goal weight. One thing I have learned though is that I can change the shape of my body. I have always been bottom heavy, pear-shape galore, because of that I never really thought I could do much to change that. I have some serious German genetics working against me, ask my cousins, all of them, except the boys which is totally unfair, but that is another story! But you know what, I can change the shape of my legs, my hips, my rear. I will never look like Kate Moss but I don't want to. I want to look like me, only fitter. That being said, I think I am going to amend my goal weight or maybe my goal pants anyway. I am not so hung up on a number, I care more about how I look in clothes. <br />
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I also have to say that eating this way has left me feeling great. I will add back bread and probably to some extent, everything I have eliminated but I am going to base my diet on fruits, vegetables, nuts, seeds and lean meats. I don't feel like sugar has the same hold over me it used to. I really do want to change my diet. I did not eat terribly bad prior to the cleanse but I often felt like I was a slave to food, like I had no choice, I just could not make good decisions. When faced with a choice between an egg white veggie omelet and biscuits and gravy I just never thought I could be satisfied with the egg white option. Now I know I can be. That does not mean that I will never choose biscuits and gravy, but if it can be a choice instead of a magnetic unavoidable type draw then I feel like I have won the battle. <br />
<br />
When I am all done I will spend more time thinking about all of the changes my body and mind have gone through. Until them I am going to coast to the finish line where the SAG awards, some organic Belgian chocolate, a glass of wine and some cheese and crackers are waiting. (In reasonable moderate amounts, by my choice I should add.)Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-16647354885591384692012-01-20T19:03:00.002-06:002012-01-20T19:03:27.426-06:00Really?Well, today is day 13 and I am over this. I like the food, and I feel great but I am tired of all the prep and I miss eating meals with my family. Because I am constantly making two meals I am usually eating by myself when everyone else is done. I also just miss having the freedom to make my own choices. I think that is the deal though, will I make good choices when I have that freedom? I hope so. I really don't want this all to be in vain. I do find myself wanting to return to mindless eating. It takes so much less energy. Lame, I know, just telling it like it is. I think the problem with my previous choices is not so much that I ate terribly. I ate pretty good, but I think I ate too much junk and not enough veggies. I am hoping I will feel differently tomorrow and I can get my mojo back. Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-37669124957149661072012-01-15T14:04:00.001-06:002012-01-15T14:04:51.148-06:00Still goingSo here I sit on day 8. I can not believe I made it this long if I am being honest. Will power is not my strong suit and yet, here I am. What a testament to God's timing. I honestly think if I had tried to do this prior to this time in my life I would not have been able to. I am much more at peace with my body and much more tuned in to my mind then ever before. <br />
<br />
I find the only times I am really grouchy about my don't list is when I am hungry. For instance, today after church I had my snack while the kids played at the play area and then we came home for lunch. Since I am starting week two today I have to prep and make everything. (Next week I think I will prep my week three stuff on Saturday.) So now I have to simmer my lentil soup for 25 minutes after taking 20 minutes to dice and chop everything and I am really hungry by this point. As my soup is simmering I try to pick up the house and come across a Hershey's kiss. Oh, I wanted that kiss so bad and I was so mad that I could not have it. I start to rationalize why I should eat it and then I just say no, I should not eat it for any reason. I decided to save it for when I am all done. <br />
<br />
I had planned to weigh myself at the beginning and at the end. I decided yesterday that I would weigh myself after each week for a little added incentive. I lost seven pounds. I was happy but I am sure I will gain some of that back when the program is over. However, I could try to keep this lifestyle going. I am eating an appropriate number of calories for my body. I am working out, mildly for week one, but I will add more cardio and weights back in for week two. What is my next step? I wonder...Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-44791114565824464102012-01-12T19:04:00.000-06:002012-01-12T19:04:00.628-06:00Snow DayI was cranky from the get go today because they were calling for snow and we got snow. Probably six inches I am guessing and Jeff is out of town. God has blessed me with some lovely neighbors and they blew my driveway out. What tremendous kindness! I don't mind the snow, on a day when we don't have a million things to do that require car trips. I did not grow up driving on the snow so it makes me a little nervous. It was a mess! Even my neighbor who has lived here all her life said she had white knuckles the whole way home. <br />
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I am not writing about what I ate today because that was pretty irrelevant. What is relevant is that I feel like I had a breakthrough today. It was a pretty stressful mom day. (Warning: this may sound awfully whiny to a working mom or even to someone with no kids, but we all have stress in our lives and it just takes different forms for different lifestyles.) I have been trying hard to do yoga this week while on this cleanse and I really wanted to make it to 9:00 yoga at the gym. That means leaving at 8:30 which is tough for us to do, without snow. We made it - Hooray! Then we came home for 40 minutes and left again to pick up Emelia's friend from preschool so we could carpool for gymnastics. Home for another 45 minutes and then off to gymnastics. I got 22 minutes to relax while Sam napped and Emelia was at gymnastics. Then we had a doctor's appointment and that is when my day crashed and burned. <br />
<br />
I am tremendously grateful because my child is healthy and passed all the well check guidelines for her age with flying colors! Then it came time for shots. As soon as Emelia knew she had a doctor's appointment she began having anxiety about getting shots. I wasn't sure if she was going to have any so we prayed that God would keep her calm and she seemed to be ok. Then when we got to the doctor she did great until it was time to get the shots and then she FREAKED OUT. I had to physically restrain her while she screamed and cried and turned bright red. It is incredibly hard to watch your child experience that kind of terror. It was everything I could do to keep from crying with her. The whole thing probably only lasted for two minutes but it felt like my heart was being ripped out. She calmed down really quickly and we stopped at Target for a toy. Yep, I felt that guilty. <br />
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While we were at Target I was just a wreck, stressed and hungry and I was so close to just throwing in the towel. I just wanted a Turkey sandwich and some yogurt or a latte or maybe even a candy bar, something, anything, to make me feel better. Then I thought, it is over. Eating a whatever will not undo it. There is no longer an immediate stress stimuli so there is not need to eat. Even if there was a stressor, eating will not make it better. <br />
<br />
That's it! I actually thought about it instead of just doing it. I not only thought about not eating, I have been doing that for five days now, I actually thought about eating, thought about why I was eating and then thought through WHY I should not eat. I was amazing really. Now, I confess that I still wanted a latte and a candy bar but at least I knew why I wanted them and why I did not need them. Maybe, just maybe, this time next week when the poop hits the fan I won't want a candy bar. Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-19816485804884436552012-01-11T14:26:00.003-06:002012-01-12T18:36:18.567-06:00Day 4I did not sleep very well last night. I drank this detox tea in the morning which was the only thing I did differently otherwise I don't know why I had trouble staying asleep. I cut out the tea today we will see how it goes. <br />
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Breakfast : Grapefruit/carrot/ginger juice<br />
It was good and satisfying but for some reason I was very hungry an hour later. I ate half of my morning snack before yoga class and the other half after class.<br />
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When I got home I had to make lunch for the kids and it was hard not to take bites of that food. Emelia had a friend over and she asked me to cut the crusts off her PB&J and it tool a lot to throw the crusts away instead of eating them. I have come to realize that is my hardest time of day! Weird!<br />
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What I realized today is that one of the reasons this feels so good is because I am doing something for myself. I rarely do that. I rarely make time to take care of me. It feels like a victory! What is funny is spending a little more time on myself has led me to be a better mom. I am less cranky, more willing to play and generally less stressed. Go figure!<br />
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Snack: Trail Mix<br />
Lunch: Spiced Butternut Squash Soup<br />
<br />
Dinner was really a hard time tonight. I almost gave up. I could not figure out how to peel the acorn squash in the recipe and I was frustrated and hungry and just cranky. I was on the phone with my friend and we just stop and prayed and sure enough about five minutes later I got the squash peeled with a veggie peeler. Weird, right? Oh, I never think of the simplest things, I have to make life complicated.<br />
Lunch: Spiced Butternut squash soup. Delicious!Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-76783582487314722792012-01-10T06:59:00.002-06:002012-01-10T14:21:13.180-06:00Cheating6:55 a.m.<br />
As I start day three I am really proud of myself for not cheating. Usually with any sort of food related thing I nip a little from Sam's plate, doesn't count, I nip a little from Emelia's snack, doesn't count, but this time I have not eaten anything but the suggested foods. I have not added or subtracted anything, I have just followed the plan. With each day that I invest I feel like I am less likely to cheat because I have invested so much. <br />
<br />
Breakfast: Orange Berry Smoothie<br />
It is delicious but I am almost disappointed that there are no veggies in it. It feels<br />
like I am not eating as healthy. I think because I can suck down a fruit smoothie without any special discipline but add some carrots and it may be a test of my will. (It truly isn't because carrot juice is so sweet, but you get the picture.)<br />
<br />
I miss my coffee. The tea is fine but I miss the delicious creaminess of a well balanced latte. What I may actually be missing now that I think about it, is the sweetness of the sugar-free vanilla syrup and the creaminess of the nonfat milk. Off to get ready for Bible Study.<br />
<br />
2:13 p.m.<br />
I had my trail mix while I was at Bible study but I was really wanting carbs. Today my group added new members and I was asked to split off and lead a group of my own. I am terrified. I suddenly felt like a 12 year old girl trying to talk about the Bible with all of these older wiser women. After I calmed down and could really think about it I know God will lead these women through me which takes the burden off of me. All I have to do is pray and listen to Him. As my stress level increased so did my desire for snacks. I have come a long way from where I used to be as at least I was craving pretzels and not Taco Bell. : ) Yeah me!<br />
<br />
We got stuck in terrible traffic on the way home and I was so hungry so I ate some pistachios in the car and ate a late lunch. I was worried that if I started fixing the kids lunch while I was starving I would start eating off of their plates. <br />
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Lunch: Avocado/Tomato/Pepper salad with lime/olive oil dressing<br />
This meal tasted great but I had a tough time with the avocados. I don't mind how they taste but I struggle with the texture. I am going to try to "treat" myself to a cup of tea while Sam is napping. Hopefully that will take the place of a snack. I am full but yet I want to eat. That just seems so wrong!Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-48223778818364801922012-01-09T08:34:00.000-06:002012-01-10T06:20:27.593-06:00Holy Detox BatmanI am not normally one to talk about poop... okay who am I kidding, I am TOTALLY one to talk about poop, this morning's was a doozy. I wish I had weighed myself pre and post, I am sure I lost two pounds. Yikes! It did make me feel a strange sense of accomplishment because I felt like I am actually getting rid of the residual junk in my body. <br />
<br />
I slept great! I slept soundly and woke a few times to pee but was able to go right back to sleep which is rare for me. I woke up at 6:15 feeling rested and refreshed. <br />
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I still missed my coffee with my quiet time but the decaf green tea felt slightly more satisfying today. The beet/carrot/apple/mint juice for breakfast however, was not my favorite. It was drinkable and not in a hold your nose and suck it down sort of way, but something just did not taste great to me. I am not sure if I should have peeled the beet first or maybe it was the mint. (Bonus side effect, the kids were fascinated with the juicer so I made them some orange kiwi juice which they loved.) Tomorrow I will stick to my carrot/grapefruit juice or maybe try one of the smoothie recipes. Again though, I don't feel hungry. I still had to fight the urge to eat my kid's food. I made them scrambled eggs, which I often eat for breakfast, and I really wanted some. I think what that says to me is that I eat what I crave not what I need. Hummm, now what to do with that?!?<br />
<br />
I find myself looking forward to my next meal or snack. This morning I think I will hit the gym for some yoga and take my trail mix with me. I am interested to see how this process effects my yoga practice. I worry about having enough energy but we will see.<br />
<br />
1:53 p.m.<br />
Yoga was hard but I think that is mainly because I have not been to class since Thanksgiving. <br />
I was not hungry after class but man, I wanted a snack. I had already eaten my trail mix on the way to class since I drank my juice at 7:00. <br />
<br />
As we struggled to get out the door on time I found myself feeling resentful about not being able to have a latte. Oddly enough when I picked Emelia up from school I really wanted Jimmy John's. I was hungry but for some reason I really wanted a sandwich. The cravings seem to be so much stronger today and I am a little more frustrated by my lack of choices. I also am feeling a little tired. The dietitian who created the cleanse said you can expect headaches and fatigue the first three days. We will see.<br />
<br />
Lunch: Kale/Carrot/Red Cabbage/Parsley salad and two fruit and nut balls.<br />
I feel physically satisfied but I really want a snack. I usually try to relax at least half and hour while Sam naps and Emelia watches a movie and I think I associate that with food. I definitely see some patterns here. <br />
<br />
I am feeling a little deprived today. I think it is because food or drink is often a reward for me. After Sam wakes up from nap I am planning a trip to the Goodwill as a treat of a different sort. Let's hope that works because when I think about 19 more days of this it feels really daunting. I am trying to focus on one meal or snack at a time. Next up roasted cauliflower for a snack!<br />
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Evening<br />
My snack was good as was my dinner the Roasted Beet soup again, but today was really hard. It felt like constant cravings, hopefully tomorrow will be easier.<br />Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-76680075982686079902012-01-08T13:05:00.000-06:002012-01-08T18:31:40.653-06:00Welcome to My Food JournalSo I know I was supposed to blog more and I know I DIDN'T blog more so now I make no promises, only attempts to chronicle the craziness that is my life. For my latest act of craziness I have chosen to do a whole foods cleanse. For the next 21 days I will be eliminating sugar, alcohol, caffeine, gluten, dairy products and processed foods from my diet. The first week is all vegetables, fruits, nuts and seeds and a few condiments. The second week you add back in legumes and lean proteins. The third week you add back in gluten-free grains. So far I am two meals and two snacks into it and I have realized a few things about my relationship with food. <br />
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The first thing I realized is that eating is less about hunger and more about an occasion. I missed my coffee while I had my quiet time this morning. Not because of the physical need for coffee but because that is just what I do and it feels luxurious to have a creamy (yes I add cream and stevia to my coffee) cup of coffee while I talk to God before the rest of my world is awake. I found myself struggling today after church. I was mildly hungry but even after eating my snack and satiating the hunger I was still having a hard time with cravings. I realized it is because we normally go out to breakfast as a family after church. I was able to bounce back once I got home and saw the fridge full of produce that I most certainly will not waste. <br />
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I also realized that I eat off of the kids plates a lot. I made Emelia a peanut butter sandwich and normally I would have licked the knife clean. I gave Sam and Emelia each a few chips. As I put the chips on their plates I had to fight the urge not to eat the chips even though they are not a type of chip I love. Sam had a cookie and left most of it on the table. Normally I would eat those two bites instead of throwing them away. <br />
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Interesting, very interesting. <br />
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As part of this cleanse you are supposed to keep a food diary, not just of what you ate but how it made you feel. So this is my place for that. <br />
<br />
I am going to start by writing down my goals for this cleanse so that if I need moral support I can come back and look at this. <br />
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More energy<br />
Better sleep<br />
Better moods<br />
Establish healthier habits<br />
Weight loss<br />
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I think this is the first time I have ever attempted any food related thing that was not all about being skinny. I have come to the realization that I will never be skinny. I can be healthy and toned but skinny just is not in my genetic repertoire. Kate Winslet maybe, Kate Moss not a chance. So, here's to new habits and new knowledge.<br />
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Food Diary 1/8/2011<br />
Breakfast: Grapefruit/Carrot/Ginger Juice<br />
Tasty, would drink again on my own, felt satisfied, missed coffee.<br />
<br />
Snack: Cranberry/Blueberry/Nut Trail Mix<br />
Good, helped me hold out for lunch.<br />
<br />
Lunch: Kale/Carrot/Red Cabbage/Parsley Salad with Dijon vinaigrette and sunflower seeds<br />
Good, hurt my jaw with all the chewing, felt full.<br />
<br />
Snack: Fruit and nut balls (finely chopped dried fruit and nuts rolled in to one inch balls)<br />
They were actually much better than they sound.<br />
<br />
Update 3:45<br />
I have a mild headache, probably from the caffeine withdrawal. Took one ibuprofen and it feels better. I am struggling to drink my water. I have only had 1.5 liters thus far. I guess I can guzzle while I cook dinner because that is often when I have a glass of wine. Roasted Beet and Garlic Soup is on tap for dinner, my bathroom habits should be CRAZY tomorrow between the roughage and the beets. I had to laugh when I looked at the recipe for dinner Iand saw it required leeks had to look them up on the internet to figure our which end you are actually supposed to eat. <br />
<br />
I am not hungry but still had to fight the urge to eat the leftover chips from Sam's lunch plate. Dumb chips! I'll post again after dinner. <br />
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6:27 p.m.<br />
Dinner: 1 cup roasted beet and garlic soup<br />
The soup was a pain to make. I should have made it in a small pot because it was not deep enough for my immersion blender which meant I had to puree it in batches - drag! However, it tasted really good and it was very filling. I am currently eating half of Sam's leftover pear but that is allowed as a snack. I think this will be it for the night. Hopefully I can avoid the evening munchies. I am pretty sure I know why this supposedly helps you sleep better...because I am EXHAUSTED from cutting, chopping, shredding and otherwise preping all these veggies. : ) Looking forward to my apple/beet/carrot juice for breakfast.Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-30697639919338041182011-09-03T14:50:00.003-05:002011-09-03T14:50:24.407-05:00Banished BlogSo, I have sort of let my blog languish for awhile. Okay, more than awhile, months really, whole seasons even. I have been in a weird season of life. I am trying to make changes, lots of changes, maybe even too many changes, I am trying to change the types of food we ate - more vegies less junk. I am trying to clear the chemicals out of my bathroom. (My skin has never looked better, thanks Suki Skincare!) I am trying to focus more on my state of well being than on feeling fat. I still feel fat, so clearly that needs work. All of this stuff running around in my mind has left little time or mindshare (as we used to say in my PR days) to devote to blogging. <br />
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As I thought about it though I felt like I sort of had it backward. See, when I have so much stuff running around in my brain and I don't let it out anywhere my friend L gets an earful on the phone, my husband gets lectures about parabens and my sleep suffers. I should have been blogging about all of this craziness so I will try to find some time to do just that. Hello blog world, I am back - again. Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-54357033974677030492011-03-21T07:43:00.000-05:002011-03-21T07:43:01.439-05:00Back at itToday I am going backwards... in a good way. You see before we moved I had been doing really well with finding time for the important stuff, things like having a daily quiet time, working out, logging my food (which is the only way I can eat healthy - otherwise I magically forget that I just had a piece of chocolate and proceed to eat another one) then we moved and everything just sort of stopped. I got back to my daily quiet time pretty quickly but the working out and eating well was another story. The kids were perpetually sick which meant no childcare at the gym for them which meant riding the bike in the basement (which I loathe) and we were cooped up. I don't like winter. At first I love boots and sweaters and then about two weeks in to it, I am over it. Well, winter is almost done and I feel mentally better than I have in a while. A little sunshine does that for me. So, now I am going back to what is important. FYI - clean floors do not make that list but games of Candyland with Emelia do. Dust free bookshelves do not make the list but puzzles with Sam do. Gourmet meals do not make the list but healthy choices in the crock pot do. Frankly I am sick of focusing on what is not getting done and I am going to focus on what is getting done. Yes world I am on it today! The memory verse I have selected for this week is this. 1Corinthians 6: 19-20 "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own, you were bought at a price. Therefore, honor God with your body." Jeff is gone this week so I have the chance to surrender everything and rely solely on God's abundant power through me. (I also have the chance to have cereal from breakfast every night.) I am taking God up on both offers!Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-8002364713259589032011-01-30T18:31:00.000-06:002011-01-30T18:31:20.084-06:00HGTV OverdoseI am sick. I mean really sick. I was a little sniffly yesterday but today I am miserable. God bless my husband who not only watched the kids but did the laundry and vacuumed. <br />
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When he got home yesterday we had a great talk and he is really stressed out. I am so glad I wrote on my blog yesterday because it really helped me work through my issues. It helped me to focus on the truths and supress the lies. Wow, it sort of sounds like voices in my head weird stuff but it isn't like that. You know though how when you are grumpy it just sort of snowballs in to this ball of junk. I put my ball of junk down though.<br />
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Having stayed in bed all day I watched a ton of HGTV. I can actually say that I am over it. I am on to the Screen Actor's Guild Awards. I am watching the red carpet - LOVE it! This Ross Mathews guy is just too much. I need him to go away. Okay, I get the gay sidekick for the lovely red carpet host but oy, he is just over the top. Now for cup of hot tea and then back to bed. Hoping I feel better tomorrow.Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30754289.post-31470581859987750492011-01-29T17:26:00.000-06:002011-01-29T17:26:10.217-06:00Already StrugglingThis is the first official weekend of the MBA program. Jeff has already been to ND for one week at the beginning of the month but this is the first of the "every other weekend" thing. I am already struggling. I have this awful feeling of why are we doing this. In the past whenever we have embarked on something really difficult (by choice) it has been with a very tangible outcome to look forward to. The best comparison I have is moving. The trouble with this whole MBA thing is I can not see what the outcome is other than some serious student loans and a piece of paper. If I am objective (tough at this moment) then I can see that it offers Jeff more options for advancement in the future and makes him more marketable. Great, then, tough to "look forward to" right now. <br />
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Jeff left Friday morning at 5:45 am and will probably be home around 6:30 Saturday. In the mean time Emelia is sick and "wants her daddy" and woke up multiple times last night. It just stinks. I want to be supportive and I know that I am being selfish. Unfortunately that knowledge does not stop the feelings of what is in this for me or our family? It sounds terrible even as I write it. I want to not feel that way. The only thing I can do is pray about it and work on it. Maybe once we are "used" to it it will not be so bad. Maybe when it is spring or summer it will not be so bad. I miss Jeff but mostly I miss our daddy because he is a bigger help than I often give him credit for.<br />
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I really do want to not be this way and I am trying to not let my feeling cloud my behavior. It is not like Jeff loves being away from his family, I know that to be true. Maybe that is what I need to focus on. What do I know to be true about the situation?<br />
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1. Jeff loves us and would not do this if he did not think it was in the best interest of our family.<br />
2. Jeff does not enjoy being away from us and will not ever be away more than he feels is necessary.<br />
3. Jeff is also struggling with this situation and is trying to find his footing.<br />
4. We are a family that was created by God and He put this opportunity in Jeff's path and after praying about it we decided this was what God wanted for us so if I believe it is God's will than it should be my will as well.<br />
5. I love Jeff and he loves me and he works hard for our family both at work and at home.<br />
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What is not a lie that I am telling myself?<br />
1. Jeff doesn't care about me.<br />
2. This is more than I can handle.<br />
3. This is selfish of Jeff.<br />
4. Jeff is off gallivanting all over downtown Chicago getting smarter as I sit home with the kids getting dumber by the minute.<br />
5. There is nothing in this for me or the kids except sacrifice.<br />
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I recently heard a message by Andy Stanley and he said giving something up now for something better in the future is not a sacrifice, it is an investment. I will choose to look at this as an investment in Jeff and our future. Here's hoping I can talk myself out of the lies and in to the truth.Erikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10601657960487931010noreply@blogger.com0