30 Days of Vegan

I know you've all been wondering how my 30-day healthy eating experiment has worked out.  Well, fortunately for you, I kept a log, so now you can follow along on my journey in exquisite detail!  I thought about editing out some of the poop stuff, but gosh darn it, everybody poops, so it's staying in.

Day 1: Wanted to give my digestive system a little break, so I didn't eat until 3 or 4 today.  Then had a bowl of quinoa with fruit and nuts, two or three bananas, and some home-toasted corn tortilla chips. For a snack after our date, I ate some vegan instant mashed potatoes with melted vegan cheese.   REALLY would have preferred a bowl of cinnamon life. Hoping for my new blender part to arrive soon so I can start going hogwild with the smoothies.  So far, so good!  There's definitely been food I've wanted to eat today (bacon, ham, rice crispy treats, ice cream.....but it's nice to know that I can say to my temptress self, "No thanks.  Even though it's hard, I'm doing this because I want to take care of me."  Besides, cinnamon life will still be there in 29 days.  :)

Day 2: Starving to death.  For breakfast I had a tofu/veggie scramble, for lunch I had figs, dates, almonds, some homemade corn chips, salsa, and hummus.  Dinner was vegan chili and polenta.  I've been eating bananas like it's going out of style.   I've been reallllly crabby today.  Had no patience with the kids or with Abe.  I don't know if it's related to the diet or just general crabbiness.  I feel perpetually hungry with no hope of reprieve.  I suspect my body is just rebelling against the sudden turn for the healthier.  It's super pissed off I'm not giving it all of the delicious less-healthy foods it's used to getting.  The hope is that this will pass.  Nate told me two weekish and then I won't feel like I'm starving.  Hope I don't kill someone before then.  Pooping as usual.  Pretty gassy tonight.

Day 3: Much less hungry.  A little sad, though.  Missing crunchy cereals.  Pooping as usual.

Day 4: Feeling great!  Not hungry at all.   No gas.  Had a tofu scramble for breakfast, a tofu scramble for a snack, some orange yams for lunch, a Naked smoothie for a snack, half a baked potato and some squash for dinner, and apricots and almonds for a snack.  Yeah, I'm an eater.

Day 5: Had buckwheat pancakes with mashed banana for breakfast, pumpkin seeds, dates, veggies for a snack, chili and mashed potatoes for lunch, pomegranate seeds for a snack, chili for dinner, a banana smeared with almond butter and dipped in flax seed for dessert, and a cup of brown jasmin rice for a snack.  Shockingly not feeling deprived at all-- no cravings, nothing.  Just loving eating all this nourishing, delicious food.  Was reallllly tired all day, so the energy hasn't kicked in yet.  Hoping that will happen on day 12, per the Whole Life Nutrition book.

Day 6: Woke up last night with a little gastroinestinal discomfort.  Thought I needed to poop but no dice.  Woke up today EXHAUSTED.  Not unusual.  And I did stay up til 10:30, wake up in the night, and wake up at 5:30 with Lum Yum.

Day 7: SOOOOO TIIRREED TODAAAAAYYY.  Actually left work early to come home and nap.  Intended to sleep until 6:30 but slept through my alarm until 7:30.  Poor kids didn't get to see their mama much today.  Or yesterday, since I went to R.S.  This working mom thing really sucks sometimes.  But that is neither here nor there.  Felt a bit hungry and deprived today.  Everywhere I turned there was pizza.  REALLY hoping my energy levels start to take a turn for the better.  Or maybe they won't?  And then, pizza?

Day 8: Diarrhea this morning.  So tired I think I might die.  (Admittedly I stayed up until 1:00 because of my nap, got up at the usual time.) Not much appetite.  

Day 9: Usual amount of tired this weekend.  Napped both Saturday and Sunday to get through.  Bowel movement seem more or less like always.  I honestly like eating this way but I haven't seen much of a difference in how I feel yet.  Possibly less gas than usual, and I'm skinnier than usual, too.  Current weight is 132.8.  I'm usually about 133-138, so that's the lower end of my usual range.

Day 11: Kind of yucky stomach last night and today.  Maybe I should pay more attention to what I'm eating so I know what's causing the distress.  Liam woke me up at 4:45 so I was realllly tired this morning.  Ate some plain gluten-free raw oatmeal with raisins, banana chips, and sunflower seeds.  Yelled at Soren twice, cried when I couldn't get the cover off a car seat to wash it, and called my mom and begged her to take the kids.  I am seriously so helpless.  After my nap I ate some beans and rice and an avocado.  When I got home from volunteering in Soren's classroom I ate an orange and then an entire pan of "brownies" (1 cup walnuts, 1/2 cup dates, 1/4 cup cocoa).  That DID NOT help my stomach situation.  For dinner we had green smoothies.  I'm feeling a little discouraged because my energy levels are not improving at all and I'm still having gastro-intestinal distress as well.  Came REALLY close to eating some cheese this evening.  Oh, sweet Colby Jack, don't forget me.  Starting to wonder if I should have done the uber-strict version of this diet, the one that cut out  nightshade vegetables, citrus, bananas, and soy.  Also thinking I made a mistake in skipping the two-day green smoothie cleanse.  Perhaps I've been eating altogether too much cooked food.  Going to try doing my two-day green smoothie cleanse tomorrow and the day after, then focusing on salads. Also going to work on eating less frequently.  I think maybe my poor digestive system is overworked with my constant grazing.  Going to try to limit myself to four eating episodes a day, at 7ish,11ish, 3ish, and 7ish.

Maybe I'll mark the following days this way: Day 12 (1), Day 13 (2), so I can keep track of the more raw-focused days.  Just don't think I'm ready to cut out nightshade vegetables, soy, citrus, and bananas.

Day 15:  Only did smoothies for one day, then missed chewing desperately and decided that cutting out all that other crap would have to do for now.

Loved every bit of food I ate today-- green smoothie for breakfast, yellow curry with rice and tofu for lunch (Thai with Loriann!), a bowl of quinoa with banana, flax seed, and walnuts for a snack, and baked sweet potato fries for dinner.

I haven't felt a change in my energy

Watched the first twenty minutes of "Hungry for Change" last night (it's free on their website!) and would like to watch the rest.

Day 17: Woke up this morning STARVING and ate three of the whoopie pies my friend Loriann made us for Christmas.  Had a normal vegan daytime, then came home and had cheesy ravioli, zucchini, and three more whoopie pies for dessert.  Whoops!  Back on track tomorrow.

Day 18: Ate half a pan of homemade focaccia bread at my mom's house.

Day 19:  Really, for reals back on track.  Sad bowels today.

Day 20: Sad bowels today too.

Day 21: Back on track.  Happy bowels. 

Days 22-30: Totally slacked off, discouraged because of no change in my energy levels.  Switched back and forth between awesome healthiness and my regular eating habits.

Conclusions:  So yeah, it didn't work out quite how I hoped, but I haven't given up yet!  This may not be the key to increasing my energy levels (or maybe it is, if I would just give it a little more time), but I do truly believe this is the best and healthiest way to eat.  I have LOVED learning new recipes and discovering just how delicious healthy eating can be.  I might have to find a different motivation, though, since the fatigue thing didn't work out in three seconds like I hoped it would.  I'm thinking maybe money.  For every ten days I strictly adhere to the eating plan, I get $30 to spend however I want.  Do you like that idea, Abe, honey?  I knew you would.

Reading Journal

In the Wilderness

By Kim Barnes

My sweet friend Heidi mailed this to me with a note on the inside that said, "For the next Pulitzer Prize finalist from Idaho-- only you'll win!"  Ah, Heidi, I love you.

Anyway, Kim Barnes grew up in logging country in Northern Idaho.  When she was a young child, her parents became very devout in their Pentecostalism.  The memoir describes how her family's relationship to the woods and to the church impacted her, formed the way she interacted with the world, molded her perception of herself.  This provided an interesting and insightful look into religious fundamentalism and its psychological pitfalls.

Barnes is a poet, and writes like one.  Every sentence was beautifully formed.  

Zoo

By James Patterson/Michael Ledwidge

My favorite thing about this book was the jacket description, which described the clearly ghost-written book as "The novel James Patterson was born to write."   It was an okay read otherwise-- the science behind the plot was a little stretched, but the overall message-- basically that people are often too short-sighted to be able to make the sacrifices they need to make in order to preserve their future well-being -- certainly rang true.

The Fear Index

Robert Harris

I liked this book a lot.  It was extremely well-crafted (craftmanship in novels being something that I've been paying a lot of attention to lately!) and the characters were engaging and memorable.  It was about investments, hedge funds, and artificial intelligence and things, which was all well and interesting, but I mostly just derived a lot of pleasure from reading such an admirably created book.  It was one I couldn't wait to get back to at the end of the day.  

Motherhood, Vulnerability, and God

Before I had kids, I frequently heard mothers bellyaching about how their kids were the best birth control, and all they needed in life was some time away from those blasted kids, and how their kids were driving them absolutely crazy.  From what I could observe, motherhood looked like a lot of frustration and work.   Babysitting did nothing to change my perspective on this, as the hours always crawled by excruciatingly when I was watching other peoples' children.

My maternal instincts totally overrode all of my reason, however, and I decided to have children anyway.
So I got pregnant and, in a lot of ways, braced for the worst.  I expected motherhood to be hard.  And it has been.  It's been really, really hard.  My children exhaust me.  They frustrate me.  I worry about them obsessively.

But I was also surprised by something.

I was surprised by love.

When Soren was born, love nearly knocked me over with its unexpected and weighty arrival.  Liam brought with him more of the same.  I just had never realized that you could love someone else so much, so unconditionally.  I hadn't realized that a that a little person could be so precious to you, that the creases in his knuckles and the curve of his forehead could make your heart constrict.  That watching him use his hands to pick up a toy or open a lid could make you cry.

When I first heard about the tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut, my first thought was of my little boy, sitting at a table in his classroom, cheeks smooth as porcelain, eyes bright and innocent.  Then I thought of the mothers standing outside an elementary school, waiting and watching in breathless agony for their little ones to come out.  I thought about the mothers whose little ones didn't come out.  My heart began to crack.  I quickly slammed my mind closed against these thoughts, because I knew that if I let my heart open up entirely to the suffering of those mothers, it would break.

When I was pregnant with Soren, I remember my mother-in-law asking me if being pregnant made me feel more vulnerable, like I was more susceptible to hurt.  I nodded vaguely, but I didn't really understand.  Not yet.  But now I do.  You've all heard that quote about how being a mother is allowing your heart to go walking around outside your body.  Then, my heart was still inside my body, nestled behind my ribs.  But now it's walking around in the form of two precious little boys.  And as the boys get bigger, my heart wanders farther away from my protective arms, tiny bit by tiny bit.

One Tuesday the boys spent a full hour outside with their little snow shovels.  They cleared off Daddy's car, then our driveway, part of the neighbors driveway, and a good portion of the sidewalk.  I watched from the window as they waddled around in their snow clothes, looking so serious and focused on their work, so proud of themselves, so unaware of how little they were.   I breathed out a prayer of gratitude and begged God to protect them, and to keep them small forever.

Once a week I get to drop Soren off at school.  I watch him walk up the long sidewalk to the building, so tiny against the sidewalk, arms holding his backpack in place, head turning to find a friend to walk with.  Sometimes he'll run, legs kicking out at the most heart-wrenching angles.

Do I ever feel vulnerable.  I just can't imagine what I would do if anything were to happen to one of my children.  I don't know how I would be able to breathe, how my heart would be able to continue beating.  But I realize that even if I am fortunate enough to keep them here with me on earth, there will be heartache.  The pathway of motherhood is paved in lots of things-- love, of course, and laughter-- also worry, fatigue, consternation, hope, delight, and bemusement- but an inevitable component is heartache.  My babies will get hurt.  They will make mistakes.  They will lose their innocence.

And that is why I cling to the hope that God exists and loves us.  Because astride the knowledge that I can't heal every hurt sits the hope that there is One who can.

Recently in church a member of our congregation, a volunteer firefighter, shared a story about helping a teenage boy who had gone outside in sub-zero temperatures without suitable protection against the cold-- he was just running to a friend's house a few blocks away-- but then preceded to get his foot caught in a bridge.  The boy had been outside for nearly an hour and was failing quickly when the paramedics arrived.  They immediately did what they could to warm his body and set about trying to free his foot.  Nothing worked.  "We had a truck full of tools but nothing was working," our fireman friend recounted.  "Critical time was passing and we were desperate, afraid we would lose him.  So I did the only thing left to do.  I prayed."  Just as he finished the prayer, an image flashed into his mind of a maneuver he could use to free the boy.  He explained it to the paramedic working with him, who said he had just had the same idea.  Together they tried the technique and immediately the boy was freed and they were able to save his life.  "I am a little ashamed," the firefighter told us, "that the most powerful tool at my disposal was the one I used last."

I find it intriguing that God couldn't (wouldn't?) do anything  to help until he prayed for guidance.  And then, instantly, enlightenment came.

In a blessing once I was told that God very much desired to be a partner with me in raising my children.  They were His children long before they were my children and he knows them far better and loves them much more than I do.  I am stubborn when it comes to religion, stubborn when it comes to asking God for help, fearful that He won't help, that I will be left kneeling at the altar, waiting in vain for an imaginary groom.  But if God can help me protect my little angels, teach them the pathways of happiness, and help them know that there is no problem that can't be fixed, I will try.  In parenting, I try very hard to be the very best mother I can be.  I have challenging children and they constantly keep me on my toes.  I read books, I make plans, I do what I can to be consistent in my discipline. But I am limited, flawed in a thousand ways, frustratingly insufficient for the task.  However, I have a great tool at my disposal and I have refused to use it for years.  I need to pray.  To ask questions and open myself up to receive answers.

Anyway, I've had this post in draft form in blogger for a long time and haven't really been able to come up with a tidy conclusion paragraph to pull everything together, so I'm going to go ahead and just publish it as is, all raw and unfinished.  The end.  :)

Reading Journal: John Rosemond

This was a book I desperately needed.  Amusingly, halfway through greedily lapping up the contents of this book, I realized it was written by the same guy who writes the syndicated "Affirmative Parenting" column that I despised during the years it ran in The Post Register.   Curses.   However, despite leaning a little heavily on "why, when I was a boy"- type rhetoric and making an occasional outrageous statement like "parents should always spank in anger," Rosemond makes some excellent points regarding effective parenting.  Here are his main ideas:

1. Don't put your kids first.

I know.  It sounds all wrong, but it's totally right.  This was the BIG message I needed to get from this book.  Rosemond writes, "Your average American working mom takes the concept of 'quality time' to mean that she's obliged to spend every free moment giving her children large, compensatory doses of positive attention.  After picking up the children from the day-care center, she goes home and flogs herself with the quality time whip until it's time for the children to go to bed." (Can you see the flashing arrows pointing enthusiastically at my head?)  Rosemond argues that this attitude gives children a very self-centered worldview that will develop into a very irritating entitlement problem later in life.

Obviously you need to ensure that your children's needs are met, that you are engaging in their lives and that they know that you love them, but it's ESSENTIAL for their well-being (and yours!) that they learn to respect your separateness and personhood as well.

This is the NUMERO UNO thing I need to work on with my kiddos.

2. Expect your kids to obey.

Rosemond provides an amusing description of what a basketball game would be like if the referee acted like most American parents.  When a player fouls someone, the referee stops the play, nags, whines, shouts, tears out his hair, threatens, gives second chances, etc.  Obviously, this is less effective, and the players are going to start breaking every rule they can.

Rosemond argues that effective parents should do the same.  Children should know the rules and should experience immediate, reasonable, and consistent consequences for violating them.  Otherwise, they'll waste a lot of their developmental energy on constantly testing limits.

Yup, this is another thing I need to work on.

3. Teach your kids responsibility.  

If they can do something for themselves, make them do it for themselves.  If they are capable of helping out around the house, assign them responsibilities that ensure that they're playing an important role in the family's overall well-being.

4. Say "no." 

And not just to drugs.  To kids, too!  This was another message I needed.  I have a tendency to say "yes" if I can possibly say it.  However, saying "no" will help your kids learn that you can't always get what you want, teach them (again) about your separateness/personhood, and prepare them for coping with the inevitable frustrations of real life.

5. Don't inundate kids with toys.  

The few toys they do have should be flexible and encourage imaginative play (legos, simple dolls, clay, crayons/paper, etc.).  Too many toys with smother a child's creativity.

6. Restrict TV time.  

Too much time in front of the boob tube will cut attention spans and decrease imagination.  To me, however, the biggest concern Rosemond presented is that passive television watching prevents kids from engaging their minds and bodies in the real world, completing the developmental work of childhood, and discovering their interests and passions.  Now whenever I'm tempted to put the kids in front of a movie so I can get a little extra sleep in the morning, I remind myself that every hour in front of the TV is robbing them of an hour they could spend on becoming the people they were intended to be.

My verdict is that this book is definitely worth reading, particularly (I think) if you're struggling with kids who whine, interrupt, complain that they're bored, and need lots of nagging/threatening before they'll do what you ask them to do.

Just remember: no matter what John Rosemond says, it's never okay to spank in anger.

Reading Journal: Healthy Eating

Get Naked Fast

Diana Stobo has an awesome story.  Check it out here.   This book was loaned to me by my friend Shacone and is an awesome, quick guide to "going raw."  It's all about using food to fight disease and increase your vitality.  It got me thinking more about the enzymes in my food and has provided some delicious recipes and ideas for helping me turn my diet into one that promotes optimal health.  I've stolen her mantra, "No Dairy. No Meat. No Sugar. No Wheat."  (I omitted "alcohol" and "caffeine" because it throws off the rhythm and rhyme and I've never been a consumer of either.)  Check out her website and youtube channel for awesome ideas for cooking delicious, family-friendly raw meals that will provide oodles of vitamins and minerals to allow your body to do the things it needs to do!

The Whole Life Nutrition Cookbook

I stumbled across this book when I did a Google search for "elimination diet," hoping to find guidelines for definitively identifying potential problem foods in my diet.  I read a little of the authors' website, checked out some reviews on Amazon, and then shot an email to my mama telling her I wouldn't be offended if she bought this for me for Christmas.  And I LOVE it.  I wouldn't NOT be able to be doing the super freakishly healthy diet that I'm on right now without the awesome guidance provided by this book.  The author provide some compelling arguments for eating a plant-based diet, descriptions of the different staples they recommend adding to your diet, and lots of fabulous, healthy recipes.  

The Energy Experiment: Update

A few weeks ago I posted about drastically changing my diet in an attempt to gain more energy.  

Just thought you might be curious about how it was going, so I thought I'd give you a little update.

The first three days were realllly hard.  I was super hungry and more than a little crabby.  I just kept reminding myself that this could totally be worth it if I stuck to it, so I pushed through the hardness.

Then I settled into a groove, stopped craving sugar at the end of every meal, and started (mostly) enjoying feeding my body delicious, nutrient-rich foods.

For example, I loved every bit of food I ate today-- green smoothie for breakfast, yellow curry with rice and tofu for lunch (Thai with Loriann!), bowl of quinoa with banana, flax seed, and walnuts for a snack, an apple and baked sweet potato fries for dinner.

I have had moments of desperately wanting to eat some cheese, and I occasionally indulge in a fantasy about  beef jerky, but overall I've been surprised at how little I've missed the foods I've cut out.

I definitely have to put more time/effort into food preparation and have been annoyed at the amount of time I've spent in WinCo as of late, but I imagine if after thirty days I decide to keep this up, I'll settle into a groove and everything won't be quite so time-consuming.  Plus, the Green Smoothie Girl promises that every minute spent preparing healthy foods in the kitchen will be repaid in extra energy and vitality to spend doing other things.

So how am I feeling?  About the same.   I was hoping there would be some magical instantaneous transformation after two weeks, but alas, there was not.  I do think my digestive system has been happier sans dairy, but other than that, everything is the same.  Though there is something quite fulfilling in knowing that I'm really nurturing my body, giving it foods that will help it grow and heal in the ways it needs to.  I still have hope that a plant-based diet will help with my overall well-being.

I have cheated just a little: I occasionally eat Craisins, which are sweetened with sugar, I have eaten white rice on two occasions, and at Abe's company party I ate a twice-baked potato  (and paid dearly with digestive upset the next day).

Stay tuned to see how the next two weeks go!

Soren is SIX

On January 1st, Soren rang in the new year the way he will always ring in the new year: by having a birthday.  

Unfortunately, he was sick.  His birthday celebration was postponed until the following Saturday.  But when Saturday arrived, celebrate we did!  

Here's the birthday boy, eating the chocolate orange the Smiths gave him. He was a little obsessed with that thing and devoured the bulk of it on the first day.    

Notice the gigantic snowflake in the background.  He made it.  

The guests hanging out and playing with balloons.  I tried to initiate a game of hot potato, but Soren wasn't interested.  We've started a tradition of turning the Christmas tree into a birthday tree for Soren.

Soren's cousins pretending to be stars.

Soren requested a "Max" cake again.  This year he wanted it to be based on an episode where Max paints and makes a huge mess.  I emailed Briar a picture and she reproduced it beautifully, freehand, on the cake.  

Soren has wanted a Dream Lite FOREVER and his Grandma and Grandpa Hanson indulged his fantasies.  He's also showing off his wallet, which was made fatter by Nana Forbes' six dollar contribution.

Liam noticed this year that Soren was getting presents and he wasn't getting anything.  It was a little hard to take, but he coped, as he always does, quite well.  

Christmas 2012

On Christmas Eve I helped the boys make gingerbread houses.  Soren's is on the left; Liam's is on the right.  Soren also made the pathway, the doghouse, and the dog bone.  

 Christmas morning. 

The Christmas gift our home teacher, Brother Kinikini, made for us.  Isn't it adorable?  And the cake was delish.

Brothers: January 2013

Soren Update: January 2013

While driving home with the boys tonight I was singing to them about the old lady who swallowed a fly.  I got to the end, the part where she swallows a horse....and Soren stopped me.  "Let's end it this way, okay?  I know an old lady who swallowed a horse...How aporse!  To swallow a horse!"  And then he added on serveral verses, making it "jippotamus to swallow a hippopotamus," "schinoceros to swallow a rhinoceros," "kelephant to swallow an elephant..."   Finally, when she swallowed a giraffe, he said, "She's dead, of course-- what do you think of that!"  He was happy with that for a while, then spent quite a while giggling, in true six-year-old boy fashion, about how hilarious it would be for her to poop out all the animals.  
______________________

A Halloween Planet
(dictated to Mommy as an entry in his Invention Notebook)
The bushes are black and look like bats.  The peoples' heads look like bats, their tummies are ghosts, and they have monster legs.  They also have 12 eyes.  The houses are very, very tall and have lots of bats inside.  There is a ghost monster who has 100,001 eyes.  Its feet will be as long as hundreds of beds.  The water is black and the islands are shaped like bats.  There will be a million billion suns.


______________________

We do not watch "BBC Life," we watch "ABC Life."  Likewise, we do not watch "Mythbusters," we watch "Smithbusters."


______________________

While we were driving home from Grandma's house one evening, Soren asked me why power lines were up so high.  "So that it's harder for people to ruin them or get electrocuted on them," I told him.  "Why can't we just tell people not to touch them?"  he asked.  "Because sometimes people are very dumb and do very dumb things."  He was intrigued by this idea.  "What else do these dumb people do, Mommy?"  "Uh.....they don't brush their teeth before bed," I told him. . "What else do they do?"  "They, um, don't buckle their seatbelts."  "And what else?"  "Er...they run with scissors!"  And for several days afterward, Soren would periodically ask me to tell him more about these dumb people.
______________________

Because he can't whistle, Soren will walk around singing "Foofoofoofoofoo!"

______________________

The Christmas season was a bit rough at our house.  The day after Thanksgiving, we set up two Christmas trees: our main one in the front room and a little one in the boys' room.  The first debacle occurred a week later when Soren decided to move all of the decorations from the tree in the front room to the tree in his bedroom.  Mommy threw a little fit when she returned home from work to find her tree undecorated. The next occurred when he decimated the bedroom tree during a timeout, smashing several ornaments in the process. The third happened when he pushed over and ripped apart the front room tree after not getting his own way.  Then he shredded the adorable Magic Eraser/popsicle stick person he had made as my Christmas gift.  Both the trees were removed and only one returned on Christmas Eve.

______________________

Soren burst through the door after school one day, breathless.  "Mommy!" he called.  "Mommy!  I saw a train with ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY cars and just ONE engine!  I had to run all the way from the bus stop to tell you because I'm not very good at remembering!"

______________________

Soren recently informed me that he has a girlfriend.  "Her name is Brynlee," he told me.  I got to meet Brynlee a few days later while volunteering in his classroom.  She is a very cute little girl.  Upon discovered that I was his mother, she informed me that Soren was very funny.  Then she remarked, "Soren thinks I'm his girlfriend."  "Are you his girlfriend?" I asked.  "No!" she told me.  "I'm just a kid!  Kids just have friends!"

______________________

Soren knew that his Uncle Quentin and Auntie Tailour were traveling across the country with their little baby, Oliver.  When it was his turn to pray, he made sure to ask that they be protected while they traveled.  He came up with this entirely on his own, without prompting or even hearing anyone else pray for their safety.  This was particularly delightful to me because he generally hates to pray and avoids it at all costs.

______________________

Frequently Soren will ask me to tell him "about a bad thing that happened."  He loves to hear stories about times I've been locked out of my house, my car has broken down, or a baby peed on someone.

Modeling some body art.

Oh my gosh, they're touching the same toys and nobody has exploded yet.

Captain Underpants!

Striking some poses.  

On his very first day as a 6-year-old.  Poor little guy was sick, so we had to celebrate a few days later.

Liam Update: January 2013

An image:  We are trick-or-treating, Soren and Liam and I, walking around the block to beg for candy from the neighbors.  Soren is focused on getting treats.  Mommy is focused on getting done.  Liam is trailing behind.  Suddenly, he stops.  A flock of geese passes overhead.   Hands at his sides, head thrown back, his face shines as though he is conversing with the angels.  "Birds!" he calls.  They are miraculous.

___________

We attempted potty training for a few weeks,  but when I grew weary of hefting a 42-pound kid onto the toilet every hour and STILL washing poop out of underpants, I raised a white flag.  We'll try again soon.
___________

When people ask Liam how he is, he proudly responds with, "I'm Liam!"
___________

Liam has been passing through his 3-year-old picky eater phase (at least, I hope it's passing!), so I wasn't terribly surprised when we couldn't persuade him to eat more than a croissant on Thanksgiving.  He then went downstairs to watch football with the cousins and threw up on their leather couch.  I've never seen a room clear so quickly, though as the cousins rushed out, their mother, like a brave firefighter, ran in.  She heroically cleaned up the vomit so I could focus on soothing my sad child.
___________

In the mornings while I'm exercising I'll occasionally need a little extra weight for squats and lunges.  Liam is always willing to drop whatever he's doing and quietly ride around on my shoulders for a few minutes.  So sweet.
___________

Liam is always very good about thanking me for things.  "Oh thank you, Mommy," he'll say.
___________

I gave in to Liam's begging at WinCo one day and let him walk beside me instead of riding in the cart.  I turned my back to pick out some portobello mushrooms and when I turned around, he was gone.  Soren and I ran up and down aisles, desperately trying to find him.  Panicked, I cornered a worker in the produce department.  "My child!  He's missing!  My four-year-old child!"  The worker found someone to call customer service and sent me up to the desk.  We found him on the way there-- walking between two store employees.  Oh Lord, thank you.
___________

"What are you doing?"
"I'm reading.  What are you doing?"
"Cars."  
(He'll say this even if there is not a car in sight.)
___________

I caught him giggling in his sleep.  It was so cute.
___________

Liam scared Mice one day.  Briar said, "Hey!  Be gentle!"  So Liam toddled over to Mice and tried to give him a hug.  "Please hug?   Please hug?"
___________

When Liam is doing something he thinks is amazing, he'll say "Ahtch dis!"  (Watch this.)

When he's done something he thinks is amazing, he'll shout, "Ah did it!"
___________

During the past little while, Liam has developed an irrational fear of trains.  Periodically he'll inform us that he's scared.  "What are you scared of?" we'll ask.  "I scared a train," he'll inform us solemnly.  This reminds me of Soren's irrational fear of lions. 
___________

For his birthday, Soren was given a guitar that Liam immediately fell in love with.  Whenever he has a moment, he'll pick it up, strum its unmelodious strings, and make up little songs.
___________

Liam pronounces the word "pumpkin," "popcorn."

Liam's church teacher took this picture of him.  Isn't he such a handsome little prince?  He's officially in PRIMARY now, which totally blows my  mind.  

Modeling Mommy's winter gloves.  

Composing.  

Drawing. 

A tattoo given to him by his brother.

Itsy Bitsy Spider.

Dressed up as a "spooky" Christmas ghost.

2013 Goal

My goal for 2013 is to have more energy.

I have been tired-- very tired-- since I was about twenty.  Blood tests done at the time came back normal, so I went on an anti-depressant.  I have taken Zoloft for the past 8 years, and it definitely helped alleviate a little of the exhaustion and made it possible for me to get off the couch and do the things I needed to do.  But here's the thing.   I want to thrive, not survive.  I want to enjoy life, not drag myself through it.  I do not believe that it's normal to wake up tired and end the day completely drained.  

My goal is to be vivacious, energized, and excited about living.   And I'm willing to take some serious steps to accomplish this.  I have a couple of things that I'm going to try to this end, one at a time, so I can tell what's helping the most:

First, my diet.  

For thirty days I'm going to be really strict about the following:
-No Dairy.
-No Gluten
-No Sugar.
-No Meat.

I'm not fully sold on the idea of "toxins" that need to be flushed out of your system or whatever, but these are all foods that have been found to be common allergens,  have a negative impact on a lot of people's overall physiological functioning, create negative immune responses, and be an overall drain on a persons' general well-being,.

And yes, I'll get enough protein, and yes, there are plenty of foods that I can still eat.  I'll be eating plenty of green smoothies and salads, as well as potatoes, yams, quinoa, coconut oil, olive oil, brown rice, lentils, beans, seeds, nuts, fruits, vegetables, and tofu.  (Some people think that soy products are of the devil, but I love me some tofu, so I'm going for it anyway.)

I feel a little defensive about this because I anticipate a lot of criticism.  Going vegan is kind of like homeschooling.  Despite loads of evidence to support its benefits, it runs against conventional wisdom and therefore garners a lot of general criticism.

Anyway, I know it's going to be torturously difficult throughout the first couple of weeks and, because of this, I'm putting together a survival guide for myself to help me get through the torturous first couple of weeks wherein I anticipate I will be rabidly desperate for some sugary floury cheesy treats.

I am starting this TOMORROW because I want to be more energized YESTERDAY.

Next, supplementation.  

First I'm going to try Dr. Christopher's Fabulous Five natural supplements, as recommended by my friend Shacone, who is my healthy living hero.  It's a bunch of crazy stuff like molasses, kelp, cayenne pepper, and apple cider vinegar, but I'm willing to give it a go if it will help.

After I've established that as a routine, I'm going to try adding a hefty dose of Vitamin D, which my friend Laura swears by.

Finally, Witch Doctors. 

If I'm not feeling fabulously energized after doing these three things, I'm going to go all kinds of kung fu crazy and see an acupuncturist recommended by my friend Lara.

I might even go hog-wild super crazy and see that hand-scanning dude in Rexburg.

And if That Doesn't Work....

I'll do some serious introspection and see if I have some sort of deeply-rooted psychological issues that are draining all my energy.

And if That Doesn't Work....

I'll buck it up and deal with being tired.

I think that will about take up a year.  Wish me so much luck!!!  Here's to a more energetic 2013!

P.S. I know that exercise contributes to energy levels too, but that's not on the list because I'm already fairly good about exercising regularly.

P.P.S. Also, I'm pretty responsible about getting enough sleep.  I'm a bear if I don't get 8-9 hours a night so I make it a priority.  My kiddos like to interrupt that sleep as much as possible, but I do what I can in that area.

Being Okay With Being a Little Broken

If you chance to meet a frown

Do not let it stay

Quickly turn it upside-down

And smile that frown away.

No one likes a frowny face.

Change it for a smile.

Make the world a better place by smiling all the while.

-The Children's Songbook

______________

Miracles are healing because they supply a lack; they are performed by those who temporarily have more for those who temporarily have less.   

-A Course in Miracles

_________________

A couple of weeks ago, I had a series of bad days that culminated one Tuesday afternoon when I found myself completely unable to function like I needed to.  I was tired and overwhelmed, one of those days when my bed seems to have strengthened its gravitational pull by one thousand, combining with my brain to seduce me into the sweet escape of sleepy oblivion.  My sweet husband found me wrapped up in a sad cocoon in my bed and called my mama, who offered to watch the children for the afternoon.  I roused myself long enough to text my friend Hana and let her know that I wouldn't be over to visit that afternoon like we had planned, that my mom was taking the kiddos and I was going to spend some time alone.  And sweet Hana knew that I needed something.  She responded, "Are you okay?  Do you need someone to talk to?"  And I, who early in life deeply internalized the idea that "no one likes a frowny face," and very rarely let people in on my crap, decided that I would just let it all hang out.  So I texted back and said that I was not okay.  That I was exhausted and sad and angry and overwhelmed and that I would very much like to talk.

And so she came over.  And we talked.  I told her all my frustrations.  I cried.  And it felt fabulous.  Faaaabulous.  My burdens were lifted just in talking about them.  And do you know what? She was totally okay with my frowny face.  In fact, our friendship deepened as a result of that afternoon conversation. She called me the next day and I answered the phone without even being afraid.  This is big for me, who only answers the phone fearlessly for approximately four people.

And do you know what else?

On a whim, she ended up loaning me a book that I needed.  That I really, really needed.

Nobody wants to be friends with a person whose life is perfect.  I mean, it's true that not a lot of people are going to be want to spend large quantities of time with someone who is persistently negative, whiny, and critical, but that doesn't mean that you can't be real.  That you can't say, "Sometimes I hate my life."  Because  everybody hates their life sometimes.  And it's really, really nice to know you're not alone. That someone is there with you, and they see your flaws, and they still like you anyway.

Being okay with yourself means being okay with your broken bits, too.  I suspect that true happiness is  hinges on this idea.  

Why I Don't Play Computer Games

Like every hot-blooded American child, I played Nintendo games.  When we got our first PC in 1992, I spent my fair share of time playing Jones in the Fast Lane, Sleuth, Oregon Trail, and Commander Keen. But as I grew into adolescence, I lost interest.  And for years I hardly thought about computer games at all, except for an occasional late-night Tetris binge.    

And then I got married and my relationship with computer games quickly became antagonistic.  Those of you non-gamers who are married to gamers will know exactly what I'm talking about.  

Anyway, Abe decided recently that I needed to spend some time playing his latest computer game love, Skyrim, so I could see how fun it was.  I've always resisted his attempts to drag me into his games, contending that I have way better ways to spend my spare time, but he looked so cute and eager that I couldn't resist.     

Well.  It was not fun.  It was stressful.  Just navigating the guy around the screen required massive amounts of concentration.  There were arrow keys and letter keys that did stuff and then mouse movement and all those mouse buttons I didn't even know existed.  And the whole time I was worried about bad stuff happening.  What if someone tried to hurt me?  What if I fell off the cliff?  What if I got lost?  What if I did something bad and got in trouble?    

Finally, I got stuck in the basement of some creepy building in a village and begged Abe to let me quit.  The thought of having to expend problem-solving energy towards problems that didn't actually exist was exhausting to me.

And I guess that's the clincher.  I spend enough time in my real life solving problems.  I don't feel the need to invent more to solve.  

Reading Journal: The Grapes of Wrath

Just read this for the first time, which is a little embarrassing for an English major.  Shhh.  Don't tell.  

And it is so good.  So good.  It rocked my world the way The Good Earth rocked my world.

I was telling my mom that it I thought it was beautiful and Abe remarked, "That isn't the word I would use for it!" So I amended with, "well, it's beautifully....earthy."

The Grapes of Wrath is full of insights into the human condition, written with flawless, descriptive, warming language, and peopled with sweet, honest, simple, and wise characters.  

My heart broke for the hopeless circumstances that so many good, hard-working people found themselves in during the Depression, circumstances that no amount of work and effort could mitigate. The book helped provide insight to me for the reasons behind legal regulations regarding workers' rights and minimum wage laws.  It was also a reminder of how easy it is to justify ourselves in allowing others to suffer.
 
Some of my favorite quotes....

The preacher said, "She looks tar'd."
"Women's always tar'd," said Tom.  "That's just the way women is."
_______

"I figgered about the Holy Sperit and the Jesus road, I figgered, 'Why do we got to hang it on God or Jesus?  Maybe,' I figgered, 'maybe it's all men an' all women we love, maybe that's the Holy Sperit-- the human sperit-- the whole shebang.  Maybe all men got one big soul ever'body's a part of.'  Now I sat there thinkin' it, an' all of a suddent-- I know it.  I knew it so deep down that it was true, and I still know it."  - The Preacher.
_________

"When you're young, ever'thing that happens is a thing all by itself.  It's a lonely thing.  You're gonna have a baby, Rosasharn, and that's somepin to you lonely and away.  That's gonna hurt you, an' the hurt'll be lonely hurt, an' this here tent is alone i the worl', Roshasharn.  They's a time of change, an when that comes, dyin' is a piece of all dyin', and bearing' is a piece of all bearin', and bearin' and dyin' is two pieces of the same thing.  An' then things ain't so lonely anymore.  An' then they don't hurt so bad."  -Ma
__________

"If he needs a million acres to make him feel rich, seems to me he needs it 'cause he feels awful poor inside hisself, and if he's poor in hisself, there ain't no million acres gonna make him feel rich, an' maybe he's disappointed that nothin' he can do'll make him feel rich-- not rich like Mis' Wilson was when she give her tent when Grampa died.  I ain't tryin' to preach no sermon, but I never seen nobody that's busy as a prairie dog collectin' stuff that wasn't disappointed."  -The Preacher
___________

"When I was a little girl I use' ta sing.  Folks roun' about use' ta say I sung as nice as Jenny Lind.  Folks use' ta come an 'listen when I sung.  An'-- when they stood-- an' me a singin', why, me an' them was together more'n you could ever know.  I was thankgful.  There ain't so many folks can feel so full up, so close, an' them folks standing there an' me a-singin'.  An'-- that's why I wanted you to pray.  I wanted to feel that clostness, oncet more.  It's the same thing, singin' an' prayin', jus' the same thing.  I wisht you could a-heerd me sing."  - Mrs. Wilson
__________

"Sure I got sins.  Every'body got sins.  A sin is somepin you ain't sure about.  Them peopel that's sure about ever'thing an' ain't got no sin-- well, with that kind of aon-of-a-bitch, if I was God I'd kick their ass right outa heaven!  I couldn't stand 'em."  -The Preacher
____________

"If you think it was a sin-- then it's a sin.  A fella builds his own sins right up from the groun'."  -The Preacher

Writing

When I was in the fourth grade I entered a writing contest and lost.  I came home heartbroken.  My mom sat down with me, hugged me close, and told me that the world's greatest authors had drawers just bursting with rejection letters, that I was merely joining their ranks, that I shouldn't give up.    

Later that year we were asked to draw a picture of what we wanted to be when we were grown up.  I drew a picture of myself, sitting in an attic room at a computer, writing, smiling.  Next to me was a filing cabinet drawer labeled "rejection letters."  When I grew up, I was going to be an author.

But when you really, really, really want something, it's easy to become afraid.  You fear failure.  You fear that the thing you want the most is the thing you won't be able to have.  So you pretend you don't want it.  You say you're too busy.  You say it's not that great anyway.

I have been afraid of writing fiction for many years.  Several years in a row I tried participating in National Novel Writing Month, only to give up within a week.  Sitting down to write was the most uncomfortable thing in the world for me.  My heart would grow tight.  My mind would shut down.  I had nothing.  There was nothing for me to write.  I couldn't write.

And then, just a few months ago, my friend Lara published her own novel.  I read it and was so impressed.  And at the same time, emboldened.  Gosh darn it, I thought.  If Lara, who is like me in so many ways, can write a novel, so can I.   I did some research about how to write a novel and had a massive breakthrough when I discovered an outlining technique that utilizes a spreadsheet.  I love spreadsheets, and knew it was for me.  I spent several weeks outlining a novel in detail.  And then I closed my eyes and plunged in.

I am now writing a novel.  Slowly.  But I'm doing it.  Several days a week I sit down and work on it.   I set a timer for twenty minutes (just like I do when I'm cleaning the house) so I don't get overwhelmed by the prospect of writing interminably.  I read an inspirational quote or two.  I remind myself that it is okay to suck, to write ridiculous and low-quality fiction, but that it is not okay to hide from your dreams.

And then I write.

So far I have 14 single-spaced pages.   I think I might just do it this time.

Administrative Changes

In light of recent excessive whining and tantrums, I (the mother of this household) am instituting the following rules, effective tomorrow, November 23, 2012:

1. If you can do it yourself, do it yourself.

2. When Mommy comes home, she and Daddy get to spend a few minutes relaxing and spending time together.  Kids stay in another room. Do not disturb Mommy and Daddy unless the house is on fire or someone is bleeding or choking or otherwise in imminent danger.   

3. Kids have to do the following each day: brush hair and teeth, pick up room, complete homework, complete one chore.  There will be no having of fun until these items have been completed.

4. TV/Computer time is limited to 1 hour per day.  

5. Mommy is not the entertainment committee.  Kids figure out how to entertain themselves.  If Mommy is doing something-- even if that something is holding very still or reading a book--she doesn’t need to be disturbed.  

6. Whining, badgering, and tantrums are not tolerated.  They will be counted mercilessly.  They can be carried out in the privacy of one’s bedroom.  

7. The cleaning up of all messes, including messy underpants, is the responsibility of the mess' maker.

**Mommy and Daddy’s responsibilities: keep kids safe, teach independence, ensure good hygiene, provide healthy, regular meals, enforce 8 PM bedtime, read to, talk with, cuddle, and love kids.  

**Mommy and Daddy’s responsibilities do not include: providing constant entertainment, being a playmate,  performing slave labor, etc.  

Book Journal

I love Roald Dahl.  I mean, what's not to like about Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (except for horrifying film adaptations)?  Or The BFG?  Or Matilda?  Or The Witches?  His stories are a little dark, a lot hilarious, and all kinds of charming.   And if you've ever wondered where it all came from, you've got to read Boy, a collection of memories from Dahl's own childhood, which reads almost exactly like his books for children.  I chortled for days afterwards.  Good stuff.  

And one can't read Boy without wanting to know what happened when Roald took a job with Shell Oil Company in East Africa and then joined the Royal Air Force.  This man had no shortage of life adventures.  While not as amusing as Boy (a lot of it was, after all, about war), Going Solo is an interesting and perspective-broadening memoir.    

In Which I Tell You How to Vote

Don't worry.  No presidential candidates will be mentioned.  People support presidential candidates with a religious fervor and I harbor no illusions that I might be able to sway anyone's opinion about who to vote for.

But.  I do want to talk about two Idaho voting issues that are near and dear to my heart.

First: for you Shelley/Firth people:  the library bond.  Vote YES!  I have heard a few people say that they think that libraries are outdated and that we shouldn't put any more money into our public library than we already have.  This could not be further from the truth.  Circulation at the North Bingham County Library has been increasing steadily over the past decade and doesn't show signs of stopping.  The NBCL serves our community extremely well, catering to the needs and interests of the people in the region.  They provide many excellent literacy, educational, and community programs for all age groups.  Adding additional space-- at an average tax-payer increase of about $20/year-- will enable them to increase the number of available materials and provide even more services, including tutoring, classes, and learning manipulative for children (not gonna lie, not exactly sure what a "learning manipulative " is-- a fancy word for toy, mayhap?--but it sounds awesome and I think we need them.)  If you care about literacy and life-long learning, THIS is the place to invest.  Click here to learn more.

Now, Props 1, 2, and 3.  Vote NO!  IGNORE the idiotic propaganda about how ULTRA-LIBERAL NATIONAL TEACHER'S UNIONS WANT TO RUIN YOUR CHILD'S LIFE.  That's a bunch of crap.  Props 1, 2, and 3 are simply stripping teachers of their voice, increasing class sizes, decreasing overall teacher salaries, taking away teacher incentives to work with children with special needs or lower socioeconomic backgrounds, creating an even greater focus on "teaching to the test," and taking money out of educators' pockets to fund unnecessary extras like laptops for every high school student.  I don't know any educators who support these propositions, and you shouldn't either.  It is TEACHERS, not buildings or technology or standardized tests, that provide education.  We need to put money into supporting teachers and make sure their rights and voices are honored and upheld.  A vote NO for Props 1, 2, and 3 is a vote YES for teachers-- and a vote YES for teachers is the BEST vote we can give to our children.

Read arguments both for and against Props 1, 2, and 3 by linking from this page.  Then realize that I'm right and vote NO on Props 1, 2, and 3.

Love Journal: Protect and Border and Salute

In his book, Let Your Life Speak, Parker Palmer describes one of his bouts of serious clinical depression.  He was frozen, paralyzed by sadness, completely unable to feel joy or sense beauty.  Many well-meaning friends would visit and try to help, but he was completely unable to connect with them.

He writes,

blessedly, there were several people, family and friends, who had the courage to stand with me in a simple and healing way.  One of them was a man who, having asked my permission to do so, stopped by late every afternoon, sat me down in a chair, knelt in front of me, removed my shoes and socks, and for half an hour simply massaged my feet.  He found the only place in my body where I could still experience bodily feeling—and feel connected with the human race.

He rarely spoke a word,  and when he did, he never gave advice but simply mirrored my condition.  He would say, “I can sense your struggle today,” or, “It feels like you are getting stronger.”  I could not always respond, but his words were deeply helpful: They reassured me that I could still be seen by at least one person, life-giving knowledge in the midst of an experience that makes one feel annihilated and invisible.  It is almost impossible to put into words what my friend's ministry meant to me.  Perhaps it is enough to say that I now understand the Biblical stories of Jesus and his foot washings at new depth.


The poet Rilke says, “Love . . .consists in this, that two solitudes protect and border and salute each other.”   That is the kind of love my friend offered.  He never tried to invade my awful inwardness with false comfort or advice, but simply stood on its boundaries, modeling the respect for me and my journey— and the courage to let it be— that I myself needed if I were to endure.

Early in my college career, I went through a nasty romantic breakup that seemed to me to be the very end of the world.  I look back now and I'm like, "Um, okay?  And your problem was?"  but at the time I thought that I would never know happiness again, ever.  For months I was a complete wreck.  There were shouted phone calls.  There was dramatic crying.  There was loud music.  There was sprawling poetry on butcher paper and acrylic paintings of nude women.  It wasn't a pretty picture.  

My beautiful best friend, Holly, responded to all this perfectly.  She rode around with me in my car in the dark while I shouted along with Alanis Morissette's "You Outta Know" at damaging decibal levels.  She appreciated my frightening art.  She patted my back when I sobbed until I hyperventilated.  She kept a hand on my knee the time that I bawled during the three hour drive from Pocatello to Provo.  She climbed into bed with me at night when I woke up crying.  One night she drew me a hot bath.

Had our roles been reversed, I surely would have gotten sick of all the drama.  I would have become impatient and rolled my eyes and said, "He was not that fabulous.  Seriously.  Get over it.  You deserve so much better."  But Holly was just quietly, patiently present with me in my suffering.  Her quiet vigil was the thing I needed most and I will always be grateful that she was there to protect, border, and salute me during that time.

Sometimes when things are hard, you don't need someone to give you advice.  You don't need someone to say anything at all.  Sometimes you just need someone to sit with you while you struggle through the darkness.  It's so tempting, when others are sad or hurt or angry, to try to offer comfort or well-meaning advice.  But sometimes all they need to know is that you see them, that you love them, and that they're not alone.

Thanks, Holls.