Phillip

It's hard to believe that it has been three months since this little guy entered our lives. On one hand, his birth and first few days feel like yesterday. On the other hand, it feels like he has been a part of our lives forever and it seems hard to remember life without him.

From early on, I had two separate due dates for Phillip. There was the one by my own calculations, and another from the only ultrasound that we had during my pregnancy. The doctor warned that it might be earlier just because it was a bigger baby (and this was around 12 weeks). It was only by a few days, but I chose to hang on to the earlier due date for my own sanity near the end and I had a midwife recommend that I use that one in case this baby wanted to be an early arrival like my first son.

But he was not an early arrival, and I never knew how much longer an extra month could be until that last month rolled around.

And I never knew how long a few days could be until the first due date came and went.

The day of my second due date drew to a close and I couldn't help but feel down that there was still no baby, so I decided to pamper myself instead. I quickly cleaned the house and drew a bath after Ben went to bed.

I hope I never forget watching my belly as I laid there, with the squirms, kicks, hiccups and life.

When I stepped out of the bath I immediately noticed a warm trickle, but I couldn't tell whether it was the bath or my water breaking. My water didn't break until the very end after an epidural with the last one, so I had no idea what it would feel like. At that moment, my husband called me and I started getting dressed as I talked to him. That's when I knew something was different because there was still a trickle.

"So, um, I think my water broke," I told him, but I encouraged him to stay at work because labor hadn't started. He was only going to have a couple days off when the baby was born and I didn't want to waste one with us both waiting for labor if this baby decided to take his time.

Next, I texted my doctor and midwife and they told me to get some sleep in anticipation for labor.

Right.

I started getting things ready just in case, but about an hour later (around 1 am), the contractions started. I had my husband come home and called my mom to pick up Ben.

I packed a suitcase for Ben, remade our bed and held my son one last time, knowing it would be the last time he would be my only baby.

Once Ben was off and everything set up, I sat down with Brandon to watch some TV. With Ben, I spent about half the day napping and watching TV before the contractions became too serious, so I was looking forward to a little time of rest before getting down to business.

But this baby was no Ben.

About 10 minutes into the show, I had to turn it off. My husband turned off all the lights and I could feel my body start to get to some serious work.

About 30 minutes later, I felt like I could not go on. Thankfully, my husband and I studied the Bradley Method and I knew that meant things were going to happen fast. I told Brandon to call the doctor because I was in transition.

It was an incredibly intense, but peaceful time. I worked hard to get out of the way of my body and fight every impulse to tense against my labor. I couldn't think ahead, about the baby, or anything else for that matter. I just laid there, with my eyes closed and concentrated. I immediately fell asleep between contractions and was able to get a little rest.

Brandon was absolutely incredible. He was supportive in helping me relax and sat there quietly when I drifted off between contractions. The doctor and midwife encouraged him to get me moving, but he knew me well enough to know that just because I was still and resting did not mean that I wasn't working hard with the contractions.

There was one point where mentally I started to break down and wonder if I could handle it. I refused to look at the clock because I knew 1) Labor does not work based on time. Each stage will come when it comes regardless of how long I have been in labor, and 2) I would be too disheartened if I saw that it had only been an hour or so. I overheard Brandon telling our doctor that my contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and lasting 60-90 seconds. Immediately I felt relief because I knew that the end was coming soon and that my contractions were being incredibly effective.

The urge to push came on very slowly and that was when I felt my greatest sense of doubt. I had been up all night with hard labor and I wasn't sure that I could handle pushing out this baby. I was being stubborn and resisting any direction because I wasn't sure I could move.

After a while, though, I knew that I had no choice. I had to lean in and push through the fear and pain. There was no other way. I could either work hard and get through, or exhaust myself with fighting the inevitable. I finally took direction and started to get to work.

The doctor and midwife were so encouraging and helpful. I just remember saying over and over again that this was too hard, and their reassurance that, yes, this is hard, but you can do it. It was amazing how helpful it was to feel validated and how much it helped mentally.

Then, finally, he was here.

Brandon caught the baby and then placed that wiggling, crying creature beneath me so that I could see his beautiful face too.

We didn't know the gender the whole pregnancy  (since we only had that one ultrasound) and I didn't hear Brandon say it was a boy, but I stared at him for a full minute before finally asking the gender.

It was a feeling unlike any other. I felt wonderfully empty and light, and like I could take on the world.

It was around that time that I finally bothered to take a look at the time. It was then I realized it was only 5:00. In about 4 hours I went through a transformative experience and my life had completely changed.

At the end of my pregnancy, my doctor and midwife had predicted the baby would be around 7- 7.5 pound, but when he was coming out they had told me he was bigger. The midwife predicted he would be 8.5, which was about what I weighed at birth. Finally, when it came time to weigh him, they were absolutely shocked. He was whopping 9 pounds and 13 ounces. The year before and throughout my pregnancy, I had followed the Weston A. Price diet and I had read that it had a tendency to make babies weigh more than they looked because it helped them build muscle and bone. No one in our family weighed anything like that at birth. It felt reassuring that all the hard work that went into our diet had produced such robust baby!

Phillip's birth was a cathartic experience for me. After Ben's birth, I felt as though something had been robbed from me. I was thankful that I had such a beautiful and healthy boy that I loved so dearly, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed with his birth experience. It was healing to  finally have a labor that was supported, peaceful and calm, where I felt that I was in charged and that I could trust my body. I came out of that experience a much stronger and more confident woman.

Welcome to our little family, Phillip. We have been waiting and praying for you. We love you more than you will ever know.

Tips for Surviving Your First Child -Part 1-

When my son was two weeks old, I moved with my husband across the state and away from our hometown. My mom was kind enough to stay a couple weeks and help us get settled in, but by the time Ben was a month old she had to go back home and I was left alone.

No friends, no family, no babysitters.

Just my husband, who works 60 hours a week at night, and me.

To say it was baptism by fire would be the understatement of the year.

Thankfully, I was able to pick up a few tricks, tips and hard-earned lessons along the way that helped make life manageable for all of us.

The most valuable lesson that I learned within a few months can be summed up in one mantra:

More effort in the short term means less work in the long run.

All the shortcuts in the world will mean nothing unless you are willing to put a little more effort up front. A lot of these tips feel impossible when you are in survival mode, but as someone who started out in survival mode, I promise they will make your life so much easier. Just take it one step at a time and as you clear each hurdle, it will make the next step seem much more possible.

Believe me, I know a little something about survival mode...

1. Nourish yourself

It is important to remember that you cannot give what you do not have. Taking care of your body on the most basic level will make you that much more able to take care of your loved ones.

This means cutting eating out and convenience foods to the bare minimum. (I told you it seems impossible, right?)

Eating foods that are chocked full of preservatives, sugar, and rancid fats and oils will only leave you more drained and tired in the end because your body has no real fuel to go on.

So the ironic thing is that although eating out is easier in the short term, it robs you and your family in the long term.

Eating at home does not mean that it has to be difficult. It can take mere minutes to throw together a chicken slathered in butter and veggies tossed with salt, pepper and coconut oil in the oven, but it will be life-giving food instead of the artificial life-destroying convenience foods.

When my son was 4 months old, we began to have problems with nursing. He was completely unsatisfied no matter how long I nursed him. It wasn't that he was hungry 30 or even 10 minutes later; he screamed as soon as he unlatched. I was completely mystified and terrified. As a mama, it feels as if your first duty is to nourish your little ones and there is no worse feeling than when it seems you are not doing that one thing.

Thankfully, very shortly thereafter I found the Weston A. Price Foundation and their diet for pregnant and nursing mothers. Taking baby steps, I started to implement their recommendations. As soon as I switched out my morning cereal and low fat smoothie (I was working towards becoming a vegetarian at the time) for whole fat milk and eggs fried in butter, Ben  calmed down within days and happily nursed until he was 18 months old.

Not only that, but he became such a happy and content baby. Before my switch, he was a typical baby with crying spells and restlessness, but after he became one of the happiest babies I have seen.

I had people stop me in the store all the time to tell me what a happy baby he was and literally had one kind lady ask me, "What do you feed him that makes him so happy?"!

My happy baby

Nourishing yourself makes a major difference in how well you can survive adjusting to the demanding life of young children.

Which leads to point two...

2. Do NOT give your baby sugar

For some, this may come too late and you may have to find ways to wean them off of it for the most part.

However, my biggest advice is to not even start giving them sugary snacks or desserts, including fruit juice (even 100%) and cereal (Cheerios essentially turns into sugar once it hits their system).

It may look cute to see a baby with ice cream smeared all over their smiling face, but the inevitable sugar crash is anything but. Not only is it giving your child nutrient-displacing foods and unnecessary additives and chemicals during an extremely critical time of their development, but dealing with kids hopped up on sugar is more of a headache than it's worth.

I have read many bloggers advise giving kids sugary "special" cereal or treats when Mama needs a break, but that is the most counter-intuitive thing you can do. Dealing with their mad sugar-rush-and-crash only makes life even harder.

Not only that, but it is Pandora's box. Once they get a taste for it, their bodies will crave it. Studies have shown over and over again that sugar is as addictive as drugs. In fact, one study showed that cocaine-addicted rats will STILL choose sugar over crack.

Ben prefers Kombucha instead

The easiest way to handle it is by cutting it off at the source and not giving your child a taste for it. Believe me, your child will not miss what he/she has not had.

No begging for donuts or cupcakes, no wild sugar-induced hysteria, no crashing and burning.

Last weekend we took Ben to the Apple Farms and he was overjoyed to munch on the apples, while all around us sullen kids munch on their donuts and guzzled apple cider. In fact, one boy sitting near us complained that the cider wasn't sweet enough.

Our day at the Apple Farm, processed-food free

Spare your child, and yourself, the sugar madness and do whatever it takes to put off sugar for as long as possible. Do not be afraid to be seen as an overbearing parent in this regard when well-meaning family and strangers try to give your child sweets.

You are not being overbearing. You are being a parent and doing what is best for your child. And making your and your child's lives SO much easier and happier in the process.

Which leads to the next point number 3...

3. Give your baby lots and lots of healthy fats

Babies and toddlers are made up mostly of fat. Their brains are growing a phenomenal rates and brains are mostly fat and cholesterol.

Give your child as much fat as he/she needs to make sure they can grow as optimally as possible.
Optimal growth in the brain means better behavior and less occurrence of mood disorders.

I don't know about you, but that seems like an easier child to deal with to me.

Not only will it help their development, but it also keeps from the dreaded sugar crashes that make children hungry (read= grumpy) every ten minutes.

Do not be afraid to give your child full-fat milk, yogurt, cheese, lard, eggs, coconut oil, butter, fish, meat, avocado, olive oil and any other fat in its natural form.

Eggs and butter- one of Ben's first foods

Plus, it's an easy way to get kids to eat vegetables. Ben LOVED when I would give him cooked veggies tossed in butter and sprinkled with goat cheese and gobbled it UP!

See?

Making homemade purees can be excellent first foods, but make sure they have lots of fat in them. The problem with simply steaming and blending fruits and veggies is that it has no real substance to them and your child will be hungrier (grumpier) faster. Be sure to add a little butter, coconut oil, or cream to make it heartier and healthier for your baby (the vitamins in the fat will help your child absorb the nutrients in the fruit and veggies better).

A major rule in our house is that fruit is ALWAYS paired with fat. Fruit is still sugar and will have the same crash when consumed by itself. I give my son some cheese or milk with his banana or apple in order to help even out the effects of the sugar.

By giving my son less sugar and more filling fats it leads to my next tip.

4. Do not let your child snack all day

Ben eats three meals a day. That's it.

He might get a little cheese or milk in-between lunch and dinner, or a banana as a reward, but there is no snack times.

Giving children snacks is a vicious cycle.

First of all, typical child snacks are nothing more than sugar that temporarily take up room in their bellies without giving them any substantial nutrition. This includes Cheerios and Yogurt Stars. Even if they claim to be "organic", they are nothing more than organic sugar.

Then, when they have a sugar crash they will require more snacks.

Finally, when meal time comes, they have been grazing all day and are not hungry for their meal.

It's good for a child to be hungry when meal time comes. That means they will actually eat and fill up their bodies on the good homemade meal you spent your time preparing for them. (Remember tip #1?) Which makes meal time that much less of a battlefield.

Typical dinner time!

Snacks are a nuisance. Instead, give your child filling, nutritious meals that will last them until next mealtime.


This is definitely a dense post and may seem overwhelming to a new parent, but hopefully it has some good guidelines to implement. Because I have learned that a happy baby means a happy life. It doesn't mean your child will be perfectly behaved and an angel baby all the time (did you see the first picture I posted???), but one less meltdown only makes your life that much easier!!! Which means less survival mode and more thriving!

I will post more tips later that have less to do with nutrition and more to do with logistics, so stay tuned!

Thermometer or Thermostat?

Via

Ever have a friend that just drains you?

What about a friend that leaves you feeling fired up and ready to take on life after one conversation?

It is amazing the energy that each individual gives off and how that can change our whole mindset. Every person sets the tone for their life and how they want to live it, whether a positive or negative one.

It is not the circumstances that we are born into that determine the course of our lives, but our response to them. We can either crumble under their weight or use them as a opportunity to learn, create and thrive. We can be either a victim or a conquerer.

Are you letting your circumstances control you or are you using them to become the person you want to be in life? Are you the thermometer or thermostat of your life?

Maybe it's time to take charge. Instead of yelling, giving the cold shoulder, or a cutting reply to that person that rubs you the wrong way, the family member that knows the perfect way to get under your skin, or even the infuriating insurance claims worker, give more grace than you think is necessary. Or instead of spending another night in front of the TV to drown out the depression, clean the house, read a book, or make a home cooked meal to feed your soul.

Everyone's situation is different, but the lesson is all the same.

Wherever we are and whatever life throws our way, we can still choose our reaction.

No matter what, choose joy.

Choose patience.

Choose peace.

And, most importantly, choose love.

Conquer Your Beast

Life is a beast.

There is no getting around it. It has to be stared down and faced head on. It has to be tackled, tried and learned. If you avoid it, it will swallow you whole.

One of the unfortunate beliefs in our society is that it can be avoided and it is easiest to do so. Countless teenagers turn into twenty-somethings who turn into thirty-somethings who are lost and directionless. Living at home, working the same job, and using entertainment as a way of escape has become the all-too-common story of most people in my generation.

Because it is easy in the short term. And the alternative is scary.

Taking on a challenging job, striking out on our own, confining ourselves to marriage and family all takes risk. It means the possibility of failure. In fact, it means the probability of failure, at least in one way or another.

We all have to fail sometime and the more we risk, the harder we may fail. We might get over our head, and find that life is much harder than we anticipated.

Because it is. Life is hard. 

But the alternative is even harder.

Either we risk failure and hard work, or we are guaranteed a lackluster life. If we do not take up the heavy burden of responsibility, then we are in our graves long before we take our last breath.

So jump into life.

Via

Don't be afraid to take on new responsibilities. Take the next step even if you do not see what is beyond it. Don't put off life because things are not perfect. Life is never perfect and if you wait, your perfect moment will pass you by.

Sometimes you will fail and sometimes it will be hard. But sometimes it will be the most wonderful thing you can imagine.

So what is your beast? What do you need to tackle down and get done today?

Fortitude

Via

This is what has been inspiring me as of late. Not graceful, materialistic or pretty. The women and moms that came before me did not have time to worry about a perfectly decorated home, losing baby weight or creating fun activities for their little ones. Their whole life was one DIY project. If they couldn't make it, grow it, or fix it, they had to do without.

Looking over tips and tricks lately that Depression-Era women survived off of, it amazes me how little it takes to actually survive. Too often I get sucked into the mindset that I need more to do and be more. I have to have that new gadget, outfit or accessory. It is not a luxury, it's a necessity. It takes the stories of these women's fortitude to remind me that I need to take a step back and find out what is really important. 

Because these moms did not just make sure that their children reached adulthood. They literally raised the greatest generation. 

And they did it all without Baby Einstein, Cheerios, microwaves, or even the simplest toy.

Through example and precept, they taught their children the importance of working hard, making do, and contentment and striving both at once. Most of what children learn is caught, not taught, and no one did it better than these people.

So each day, I have been striving to teach my son by example. Instead of complaining, procrastinating, or dragging my feet, I have been working hard to wake up early each day and do what must be done with joy. I have been taking pride in my work and learning how to make do instead of wanting more. Not that I have been doing it perfectly, or that I don't use electricity or go to the grocery store, but I have been trying to channel their fortitude and strength each day.

Last week I learned how to make my own laundry detergent and dish soap. I started making our bread from scratch again. I was amazed how good it felt to accomplish these things rather than just buy it from the store. 

Because life is not about what you buy and own, but rather character and attitude.

The Rending

One year has past.

One year since I gave birth to my son.

One year since I moved away from everything I have ever known.

One year since my life has been completely turned upside-down.

Last week we moved from our house to an apartment across the street. Nothing like renting a home makes you want to own your own home and we decided to cut the fat out of the budget to start making that a possibility. I was surprised how emotional it was for me. I had told myself all along that the house we were in was not our house. No point in overhauling the yard, painting the walls, hanging up photos, or thinking too deeply about color schemes. It was just a temporary space, yet somehow it creeped into my heart.

It was the house that Ben said his first words and took his first step in. It was the house that I learned independence and changed in so many unimaginable ways. Leaving it felt like leaving a piece of myself and it hurt to think that such an important place will only be a memory.

Leaving our first home

It was a needed rending, though, and it helped to physically move in order to push me to mentally, emotionally, and physically move. The past year has been a year of healing. I was able to slowly recover from the stress, anxiety, poor nutrition, and insecurity that I had inflicted on myself the previous 25 years. It was absolutely necessary and I have come out on the other side of 26 a more whole, enthusiastic and energetic person.

Now it is time to step outside my comfort zones and this coming year is a challenge to start living my life outside of myself and my small family. It is time to make friends, go on adventures, experience new places, start working and start giving again. I won't say that it is time to start living my life because the rest from last year was needed in order to dig into the depths of myself and live more fully.

However, I will say that it is time to live my life out loud. I am looking forward to the challenges and joys waiting for me. It will be stretching, exhausting, and exhilarating all at the same time.

27, I am ready. Let's do this thing.

Chris Howard Imagery

Note to the Soon-to-Be New Mom

Dear Pregnant Lady With the Swollen Ankles and Aching Back,

I've been there. In my need to be as prepared and ready as I could be for the impending arrival of my son, I dug too deep into the internet.

I vividly remember being on my phone with my husband, absolutely bewildered, shouting, "Why do I need to wear frozen pads for two months after the baby?! WHY? What is this Cretan going to do to my body???"

I read about PPD (Postpartum Depression), about the endless tears, sleepless nights and frustrations of having a baby. I read how I will NEVER get my body back (not the encouragement I needed after ballooning over 50 pounds in nine months) and that I can say goodbye to my sanity.

There was never anything hopeful in the articles, only the laconic line at the very end "But the baby is worth it." Sounds like a pretty raw deal to me, right?

I wanted to punch everyone that told me to enjoy my sleep while I was pregnant: partly because of the baby hormones, and partly because I was so sleep deprived and tired that for the second half of my pregnancy I was sleeping only a very fragmented few hours each night (helloooo restless legs!). I cannot express my annoyance when everyone was warning me to enjoy every moment now while I was throwing up absolutely everything I managed to choke down. At one point I was wandering around the hospital with a bottle of ginger beer and running to the bathroom every 10 minutes throwing even that up while waiting to get my anti-nausea medication. And it was only suppose to get worse???

Yup, there I am. I could have sworn I was promised at least a pregnancy glow?

So here is my message of hope to any future mom out there: having a newborn doesn't have to be a death sentence!

I found being a mom to a newborn 1,000 times easier than pregnancy. I was more well rested waking up every 3 hours to feed my son than my entire pregnancy.

Also, after experiencing labor, your first poop can possibly feel like a walk in the park in comparison. I was terrified of that the last three months of my pregnancy.

Judging from every post on the internet everywhere about babies you would have every right to assume that newborns are THE WORST and there's nothing you can do to prepare.

It's not that bad for everyone though. There's baby cuddles (which are THE BEST), firsts, new experiences, and finally connecting with the being that felt like a parasite for far too long. Also, wine, coffee and the ability to see your feet again.

I mean, come on, look at that face!

I felt energized after labor and like I could do anything after growing and birthing this beautiful, perfect creature. I lost all the baby weight in FOUR months and other than a few faded stretch marks on my hips, there is no difference between my body before and after baby.

Four months and fifty pounds after the scary pregger picture above

Now before someone crucifies me, I must clarify that every mom is different. Just because it was easier for me does not mean it will be easier for you. I know some new moms that breezed through pregnancy and struggled with being a new mom. Also, postpartum depression is real and if you find yourself in an emotional hole I would encourage you to seek help.

And although it has been easier than pregnancy, it is still a lot of work. There were definitely days when it felt like all my son did was cried. There have also been days of absolute exhaustion (he is still working on sleeping through the night at 7 months) and dirty looks at my husband when he asks what's for dinner (whatever you want to make, THAT'S WHAT).

But times like this melts even my cold heart.

But, I just want to give you, future mom, the tiniest scrap of hope. Hope that breastfeeding is not impossibly difficult for everyone (which means if it is for you, you should also seek help). Hope that your life is not over (my husband is still himself, and I am definitely still me, flaws and all). Hope that although some parts may be difficult, tedious, painful and endless, it is not all doom and gloom.

It is a time of love, not a prison sentence.

So please, step away from the internet and go take a nap.

Cursed Food

Then to Adam He [God] said, “Because you have heeded the voice of your wife, and have eaten from the tree of which I commanded you, saying, ‘You shall not eat of it’:

“Cursed is the ground for your sake;
In toil you shall eat of it
All the days of your life.
 Both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you,
And you shall eat the herb of the field.
 In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread
Till you return to the ground,
For out of it you were taken;
For dust you are,
And to dust you shall return.” 

{Genesis 3:17-19}

Ben enjoying fresh avocados

My relationship with food has not always been the most healthy. I knew quite a bit about nutrition, but did not see the need to make any real changes. Being naturally skinny, I only thought of the need to eat well in order to conform to society's version of beauty. I expected that I would clean up my act whenever I no longer fit this standard, or when I became pregnant. I thought I would become the hippie that I longed to be, but lacked the self-control or motivation to be at the time.

But being pregnant was much, MUCH harder than I had ever anticipated. It felt as though this little creature that I had never even met had hijacked my life, making it difficult to sleep, get around, wear clothes and even keep a decent meal down. In my broken-down spirit I could not bear to refuse myself any food I desired. I did not care that what I put in my mouth affected my son. He had taken so much from me: he was not about to take away my comfort food as well.

I immediately regretted that selfishness the second I saw his precious little face for the first time. I felt ashamed for all of the sugar, preservatives, and stress I had subjected his little body to take in while he relied helplessly on me for survival and growth. I regretted every bit of processed food and how I ignored the fact that some of the very things I was consuming was outlawed in other countries for the birth defects it caused on innocent children.

After that I became more concerned with what I was nourishing my family. I did thorough research on what I should be eating as a breastfeeding mama and what Ben's first foods should be. I was determined that although I had failed him while he was inside of me, he would be the healthy kid and adult that he could be.

I knew that it would be an adjustment, but I was shocked at how much work it would be. As I searched the grocery aisles and studied recipes online, I realized that I had two choices when it came to nourishing my family: spend the majority of our budget on foods that we cannot afford, or spend much time and energy into making these foods from scratch.

My first sourdough bread made completely from scratch (including the starter): not pretty, but absolutely delicious!

It was then that the reality of Adam's curse dawned on me. Our society has sought to make food convenient, fast and cheap. Whereas in times past people spent about 18% of their income on food, we now spend 9% (Michael Pollan, "Before You Grocery Shop Again", 2010). We are trying to escape the curse from the garden of Eden that our food comes at a price. It will take hard work and sacrifice to make our food, but we don't want to deal with the thorns and thistles of the field. Americans are seeking to modify our plants, soil, and animals to make food easy and cheap.

However, we cannot flaunt our curse without paying a much steeper price. That same study above found that the average American went from spending 5% on healthcare to 19%. It is a cruel irony that our food is more abundant, but our bodies are more malnourished than ever. We are wasting away from ugly diseases like cancer, heart disease and strokes in alarming numbers. Our children are increasingly suffering from behavioral problems and have a shorter life expectancy than their parents. 

Most of the time when we think of struggling for food and malnourishment, we picture babies with swollen bellies in Africa. The curse surely applies to them, but we have grocery stores lined with food! We can have food ready in a matter of minutes.  There are restaurants and fast food chains on every corner! Yet, we have not escaped the curse. To eat food that will bring life to the limbs costs: organic veggies and pasture-raised meat and dairy are expensive. It takes hard work and planning to make meals from scratch, but it also the only way to guarantee that the food is prepared correctly and responsibly without spending a large fortune. 

There is no magic formula, diet or angle for eating well: there is just hard work. And I am willing to pay that price for my family. 

Awakening

Ever since I can remember I have struggled on and off with depression. Something within my genetic makeup makes me bottle up any feelings of sadness and dwell on them until they consume me unless I consciously redirect myself. One major trigger that I found is the time of the year. Usually winters are the worst: the gloom, darkness, and coldness seem to ignite my mood and make me long for warmer and sunnier times.

This year, however, I have been striving to embrace life and lean in rather than searching for an escape. In the depth of winter, it dawned on me that it was a time of rest. Although trees, flowers and animals look like they are dead or gone away, in reality they are resting up and preparing for the bloom ahead.

Likewise, I found comfort in the fact that it was time for resting my weary bones. I had run around for long enough and needed a season of deep and complete renewal. Instead of viewing the darkness as a damper on my day, I finally saw that it was a chance to sleep more. I finally saw that the few months after the holidays is the Earth's chance to renew herself and come back with vigor for the remainder of the year.

I saw the cold weather as a chance to stay by the fire and read powerful words by those who had come before me.

We ate light and nourishing meals and took lots of naps.

I enjoyed my son's smiles in winter's first light.

He's also doing his morning aerobics

I forgave myself for my messy hair, unkept house and wild yard.

I call this style "I didn't brush my teeth either"

We went on walks.

And I watched this precious face all the while.

I spent hours laying next to this precious boy, playing and smiling.

All of us took a moment to be still, soak in the small moments and truly rest.

Although Phiebe always tends to move slowly.

Too often in our culture, we fight against the elements. We turn on lights, air conditioning, heaters, drink coffee, and take painkillers. There is nothing wrong in these things, but if we seek to shut out every part of nature that kills our productivity and inconveniences us, then it is no wonder that we are depressed and run-down. Our greatest strength comes in recognizing and being flexible to the various seasons in nature and within our lives. Although it seems like we are going nowhere, it is only for a time and then we can move forward again.

To my surprise, this was the greatest winter I have had yet. Instead of being consumed by the weather and my circumstances, my energy was rekindled and the fog of depression that always comes at this time was lifted.

And then the first flower popped up in my yard.

Small, unassuming, but a hopeful symbol of renewed life. I felt renewed and ready to take on the new season. It felt natural to start working again. I started decorating the house and signed up to run a 5K on Saturday. I went with Brandon to the store and we started taking back the garden.

 It felt good to get my hands dirty and be out in nature again.

And so, the awakening has started. And we are ready with renewed vigor.

The Burden of Light

On New Year's Eve I couldn't help but feel… tired. It was a combination of a rough night with Ben and the weight of the past year bearing down on me. We had survived a pregnancy, wedding, injury, bed rest, birth, job change and moving across the state all within the course of 2013 and it felt like it had taken its toll that night. 

The whole year I was afraid to look back on everything that had happened and fully comprehend all that I had to accomplish. I was worried if I thought too much about it I would not have the heart to get up in the morning and face another day. 

So when reflection, unanticipated and unlooked for, hit me that night, I felt exhausted. I felt like I had no strength left to take me through the next year. My husband had to drag me to bed and I tried my hardest to shut my mind off.

And then… the morning came. And Ben slept beautifully that night and I was the most rested I've been since long before I got pregnant. We all cuddled in bed, made a big breakfast and set out to hike and experience nature.

And we went to the highest bridge in California.

And then on a beautiful walk through the foothills.

And found a quiet place by the American River to show Ben when he woke up.

And skipped rocks like we were 10 years old again.

And by then the weight was lifted and I felt like the old me again. Unanticipated and unlooked for, the strength to face a new year came. 

Just as it did everyday last year. Endless baby wails gave way to a small bright smile. Fights gave way to kisses. And unbearable weariness gave way to grace. 

It may be a burden, but it is light.

Comfort and Joy

Merriest of Christmases to all my readers. Please know today that you are loved and cherished beyond your wildest imagination. Use today to remember that no matter where you are or what you have done, God chose to be born to a teenager amongst squalor in order to redeem and restore that which was lost.

No matter how lonely, downhearted, or guilty you may feel, you are adored.

He has come to His people and redeemed them.

Luke 1:68

Savoring this moment

Between moving, welcomed houseguests, bright and happy holidays, newborns, and plans for traveling back home, life has been spinning and we feel like we are running to stand still. It has been a happy busy, but exhausting all the same.

I think I am starting to learn the lesson of motherhood, though. I am beginning to see that life has no intention of slowing down anytime soon. 

Ben is 8 weeks today and I have no idea where the time went. I am already putting away his newborn clothes and I feel like he barely got to wear them.

Everyday since he was born, I have been striving to live in the present. I have been conscious to not wish for the future and to savor each day for all that it is worth. 

It has meant dropping less important items on my to-do list and learning to lean into the stress of life and not wish to escape it. It has meant being one of those parents that takes and unashamedly posts endless pictures of my baby doing the mundane everyday baby things. 

Because soon it will not happen everyday. And I want to make sure that I enjoyed it while it was happening. Then when it is gone I can look back and smile. I will be able to tell Ben what life was like when he was born and his parents set out a whole new adventure.

Flame.

I have always been a desert girl, and I dearly love the fall. Both of those statements have caused a great clash within my heart over the past month. I have never felt so far from home and completely at ease in a place. 

I am amazed at every corner in my neighborhood. It feels like the whole city is ablaze and every tree is on fire. I cannot help but feel the same flame in my own heart.

Sorry for the silence this past month. Between creating a new home and soaking up every moment with my new son, there is little time for writing and reflection. I'm hoping for more time very soon.

Welcome to the World, Benjamin Elias!

I do not think, as long as I live, I could ever forget the deepest exhaustion give away to the deepest joy the instant I laid my eyes on my son for the very first time. In that instant, my heart felt ready to burst and has stayed that way since.

It has been almost two weeks and Brandon and I still cannot keep our eyes off of him. The only thing to pull us away from him is packing up our lives. Brandon was offered a job in Sacramento, so we are both moving away from the place we were both born and raised to somewhere I have only been once before in my life. 

It has been a time for adventure. And we are ready.

Past the Glittering Screen

One of the things that really worried me in the beginning of my pregnancy was the gender of our baby. I made sure that we booked an appointment with an ultrasound technician (can you BELIEVE that hospitals won't waste precious dollars on finding out whether anxious parents are having a girl or a boy? It's like they only care about the health of the baby!) and found out just past 15 weeks that we were having a boy. Immediately, I had a huge sigh of relief and felt like a burden had been lifted.

I told everyone that I wanted a boy so badly because I wanted to make sure my daughters had an older brother like I have, that it is a family tradition on my husband's side, blah, blah, blah. In reality, what I was truly worried about was me. I worried that having a girl would make me take a closer look at myself as a woman and have to change (or at least disguise) the insecurities that I have so that it is not passed along to them. I would have to stop complaining about how ugly I feel, how fat I think I am or pick apart every flaw I have, whether genuine or completely in my head. 

I did not want my daughters to look at themselves and other women with a critical eye that never penetrated past the surface to see their true substance. I want them to have intellect, a sense of humor, and a kind heart that will last far longer than their beauty ever could. I want something more for them, but I knew that it would cost me my shallowness and tendency to ignore the heart for the face.

However, finding out I am having a boy has caused me to take a closer look at the world he would grow up in (like most parents do). I started to wonder about what kind of a man I want him to become and how my role as his mom will shape how he views women. I realized that it is my responsibility to shape his view of women and their image.

Via heatherhartstudio

The role of women in the media is extremely disheartening. We are put on display as sexual objects that are only as good as we look. Even looking at journalists, which are suppose to be in a place of professionalism and intelligence. On most news stations, the women look little better than strippers (with short skirts, plenty of cleavage and pounds of makeup), while the men look old enough to be their fathers (and sometimes grandfathers). What is this telling the world? That a man can be taken seriously based on the news he is presenting and women are expected to be their pretty props. This is just one example, but throughout media women are only prized for their looks and not for their fearlessness, love, intelligence or personality.

If I want my son to have a different view of women I need to make sure I play an active role in changing it. The more I critically saw and understood the environment I will be birthing my son into, the more I realized that my responsibilities as shaping my son's understanding of women are just as great as having a daughter. If I am shallow and critical of my body as well as others he will learn to have that same critical eye towards the girls he sees. If I put a woman's worth solely on her looks he will do the same shameful thing.

I want my son to have the same love, care and respect for women regardless of their looks. I want him to see them not as objects for his own gratification, but as partners in the race of life. I want him to appreciate a woman's wit and intelligence instead of her cup size. I want him to be free from the suffocating restraints of society and see life as so much more than skin deep. I want him to see past the glittering screen that the world will try to place in front of him to the true depth and beauty of reality.

So over the course of my pregnancy, I have been making slow and conscious changes in how I treat others: no more snap judgments and a deeper appreciation for the soul of a person instead of their body. I have also been concentrating more on my criticism towards myself. To say the least, pregnancy has not been extremely kind to me and I have struggled with the extra weight and haggard expression I have been carrying around. I have started to try to ignore that and cultivate my soul instead. For the first time in years, I have picked up writing poetry again. I have been reading more and trying to use my mind again.

Because at the end of the day, I cannot show my son more what it means to be a woman and how to encourage and appreciate her than to embody that for him.

The Starting Line.

Via laurenledbetter

During high school, I ran cross country and track. By far the worst part of the entire race was waiting at the starting line. I hated it. I would be dripping with anticipation and shaking as I waited for the gun to go off. It was not uncommon for my teammates to ask if I was OK, or if I needed to go throw up and I would have to assure them, with a face stark-white, that I was perfectly fine. It was a complete relief to be starting the race and getting down to the business of running.

It is the same stomach-churning, shakey-limb feeling Brandon and I have been experiencing for the past few weeks. Between coming to the end of my pregnancy and the prospect of a new job in a new city for Brandon, we have been sitting in anticipation for our new lives to start. 

There have been moments where neither of us need to say what we are thinking, when is the gun finally going to fire? There are no words, we just silently watch my belly, squirming with life beneath it, and the phone, occasionally ringing with concerned family members wondering if we have heard anything. And just when we think cannot take the uncertainty and unknown anymore, we are asked to wait a little while longer. 

Despite the anticipation, the fear, the unknown, I cannot help but think that maybe this waiting is for the best. The worst I felt at the starting line, the bigger the relief when I finally could stretch out my legs and run. When the time comes, the direction laid out and the race has started we will finally be able to stretch ourselves and feel the relief of running towards our life together. Soon, I will be able to run the race as a mother and together we can build our lives either in Riverside or Sacramento. 

It seems like an eternity before the gun is shot, but looking back it was only a precious few seconds. Right now this weekend may feel like an age-long minute, but I am trying to take this time to take a breath, get into position and get ready to run.