Like a Rolling Stone: Untethered and Embracing It (or Trying to)

It has been nearly two full weeks since we closed on the sale of our home in Atlanta.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

Since that day, my boys, dog Josie, and I have been untethered and blowing in the wind. My friends and husband joke that we are homeless. Technically, that may be true. But I can't say it because it scares me. The new home to which we are moving in Chattanooga won't be finished until July. So, for a few weeks we are drifters. Hubs is busy working at his (not-so new anymore) job in an awesome company he seems to love and making connections in our new city. We haven't lived under the same roof for six months. I'm happy for him but so totally jealous at the same time.

I feel stuck in limbo and let's be honest: parenting solo, especially a newly minted teenager, is tough and tiring. As is packing and doing all the stuff involved with moving. Not that being the primary earner isn't tough and mentally exhausting. It's just another side of the coin. And frankly, I could use a little time alone.

I feel like, in addition to the job I was getting paid to do up until I quit a week before the moving truck arrived, I was full-time parenting alone; packing, cleaning, and dealing with all the emotions associated with leaving the home where we built our family; and the end of the school year. Let's just say I may have lost my cool a few times.

Now, between homes, the kids and (the dog) and I are trying to enjoy this freedom by traveling. As I type, I am sitting on a porch swing in a pretty little spot called Magnolia Springs, Alabama which is near Gulf Shores, a beach town. It's exciting and fun but also kind of scary and exhausting.

At least to me it's scary, and I'm sure it is to our kids on some level. They need structure and stability and how can you have that when you don't even have the same four walls around you at any time? There's no guide book for living out of your car for six to eight weeks. And while I could have found temporary housing for that period, it was expensive and this seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime chance to have an adventure.

I forgot that adventure is not my middle name.

So, two weeks in and I'm feeling a little uncertain. Calling on my angels for protection and guidance and looking forward to getting settled. We'll be back in Atlanta next week to attend VBS at our church and I'm hoping that calms me so I can calm them. For now, I just want to focus on having some fun and helping my boys to do the same. Yesterday we hit the beach, got rained on while we played in the waves which was a unique experience, ate seafood (or I did - they stuck to cheeseburgers), played minigolf, and ate bad ice cream.

We're about to head back to the beach and see what other fun our day holds. I am hoping for some laughter, beautiful new memories, and the lesson that whatever life throws at you can be taken in stride and with a smile on your face.

Here's to getting out of that comfort zone and growing.

What tips do you have for facing new challenges or for traveling with teens and tweens? Would love to hear your thoughts on all this! Please leave a comment.

A Step You Can't Take Back

Last Wednesday, my kids, husband, and I said goodbye to the home we lived in for nearly 16 years. It was not easy.

Aside from the grueling physical and material aspects of moving – countless trips up and down stairs and ladders to the attic and basement, lifting boxes, making endless lists and calling dozens of businesses related to the move, and, of course the costs – the emotional side weighed heavy on my heart. So much happened in this house.... Two sons were born and grew into sweetly funny and loving young boys, one nearly a man at thirteen. A baby girl was lost before the idea of her could fully bloom. New friends came into our lives, some staying for the long haul, and others moving on before I was ready for them to go. I treasure those who stayed and still feel grateful for having known those who outgrew me (or was it the other way around?).

We loved and lost pets and brought new ones into the family because there is just so much love to share. Romance peaked and waned and peaked again as long loves do, but always, always, always, there was a lasting love and a story to be written together.

I have focused much on the joys experienced in our Georgia home. Because that's what we do...right?

But I once called our home cursed and brought out the Holy Water and sage to try and cast out the sorrow I felt hanging about us during an especially challenging time. It wasn't the only time I felt that way living in that house.

Still, we look at the totality of our experiences and if nothing else, my faith and ability to love (deeply and unconditionally) grew by leaps and bounds in this home. It is where I learned what it really means to be a wife and where I became a mother. I evolved from timid and insecure to confident and experienced. I encountered the teachings of Abraham-Hicks which reinforced my Catholic beliefs about God's love for us and I learned that we choose joy and that doing so isn't always easy, but it's definitely worth the effort. I also learned how to take care of my physical and mental health with diet, exercise, and supplements. And I learned to choose me.

Now as I stand at the edge of my future, I realize that I'm really not leaving anything behind. Just a building, where a new family will grow and live their lives. I take the rest with me, but really only the good. Because ultimately, the negative experiences I had led me to the changes I needed to make to become the woman, the wife, the friend, the mother, that I want to be, that I am, that I am still becoming.  And in leading me to where I needed to be the chaff was transformed into gold.

I know our life in Chattanooga will be amazing because I believe in amazing. In the meantime, my kids and I will be spending the next six or seven weeks as vagabonds until our new home is complete. I hope to share some of our experiences. You can watch as I totally step out of my security-craving comfort zone and grow.

Feel free to follow me on Twitter, or here. And, in the meantime, I'd love to hear your stories about getting out of your comfort zone, or what happened when you took a step you couldn't take back. Please share your story in the comments. Namaste.

Write Like No One is Watching

I have debated deleting and killing this blog so many times it's not funny. But I could never quite let go. I loved writing it and there is rarely a day that goes by when I don't think "I really should start writing my blog again." Of course, those thoughts come with a dose of self-conscious discomfort, fear and questions about why I'm doing it.

Am I trying to capture life in words to hold onto it? Simply processing my emotions? Trying to use my words about my experience to help someone else going through the same thing? Dreaming of the influence and fortune of superbloggers like Glennon Doyle? Sure. All of that.

It all comes with my constant nagging fear of being mocked and judged, a holdover from childhood that no amount of positive feedback has eroded. Still, I can't ignore the drumbeat pestering in my heart urging me to write again. This morning, I reached out to fellow blogger and author Sarah Fader from OldSchool/NewSchoolMom for some advice on how to get going again. Sarah's advice? "Write like no one is watching."

Wow. I know...simple, been said before...But seriously, this was exactly what I needed to hear right now.... Now, as I stand on the precipice again, frightened and excited by what comes next, both in life and on this blog, I know it is definitely time to start writing again.

Welcome back, me.

Joy to the World: Winning the Fight Against PMDD

I've never held back on my blog from talking about my struggles with depression. Recently I learned that what I've had the last few or maybe several years since having my second child isn't exactly clinical depression, but rather its hormonally-induced cousin, PMDD. 

Over the course of the last year, since I changed my diet, really committed to physical fitness, and started enhancing my health by using Young Living Essential Oils, I've come close to conquering this beast. Sometimes she rears her ugly head and I have to regroup and think about which aspect of my holistic treatment is lacking, but I've mostly managed to keep this PMDD in check. Now that I've put this protocol into practice for over a year, I feel confident in sharing it with any other women fighting this battle.

I really want you to learn about the particular "protocol" I'm using now because it has really changed my life and continues to help me every day. Plus, I'm treating myself without the worries of the dangerous side-effects associated with antidepressants! 

It's actually pretty simple. The first thing I did was change my diet. Last January, I began a low-carb, high-fat, moderate-protein diet, also known as a ketogenic diet. This concept runs contrary to popular medical wisdom which advocates a diet high in "complex" carbohydrates, with very low fat and moderate protein levels. A diet that fails most people miserably, leaving them hungry and grouchy. There is a lot of new research that shows there is no link between saturated fat and heart-disease.  Don't forget that the brain requires fat and cholesterol to function properly. If you're already cloudy from the effects of PMDD on the brain, you need to be eating a diet that provides the nutrition you need to function properly. The benefits of giving up sugar have surpassed what I hoped for and I was surprised by how quickly the cravings for it passed. I can't say I never look at a milkshake and think, "Gee that looks delicious!". It's just that I'm able to resist it now, even in all my PMS/PMDD glory. Cutting out sugar really was the first step in eliminating the need to "comfort eat" my way through one week out of every month.

Now, hand-in-hand with diet goes exercise. I have become a big advocate of strength training for women. First and foremost, it provides a terrific outlet for stress release. Take your anxiety and irrational anger and all your frustrations, leave them on the gym floor in a pool of sweat, and don't look back. I can wake up thinking I can't work out because I feel so miserable and sad and tired and life sucks, but every single time I make myself go to the gym and do a workout, I walk out feeling like I have slain a dragon. You don't have to start lifting heavy weights. Shoot, you don't have to lift weights. Go for a walk. Go for a run. Just get moving in some way that burns up the stress and anger you're feeling. I know you feel overwhelmed and don't think you have time, but you have two choices. I know from PMDD. I know you can't concentrate on your to-do list anyway. So you might as well take 30 minutes or an hour and throw down a little yoga or lift a few weights or walk the dog while you're outside soaking up the sunshine. Physical activity helps reduce tension and stress and can dissipate Cortisol levels which affect the body's ability to regulate the balance of Progesterone and Estrogen. 

In addition to using exercise to help battle stress and tension, both in general and related to PMDD, I have also begun taking a Young Living Supplement called Women's Cortistop which is formulated to help reduce Cortisol levels.

It really is hard to pinpoint what the most important aspect of my PMDD Protocol has been because every aspect has had a distinct and important impact on my health and well-being. However, I think the use of two specific Young Living Essential Oils has made a dramatic difference for me...the kind of difference I can feel if I stop using either oil for more than a day or two.

The first of these oils, Progessence Plus, has the most direct relationship to female hormone production and health. It is a natural bioidentical progesterone oil that helps restore a woman's natural hormonal balance without many of the dangerous side effects of synthetic hormonal treatments. It is vital, however, that you only use a pure therapeutic grade oil when using a progesterone, or any other type of aromatherapy or essential oil. The difference in my premenstrual emotional state before and after starting on Progessence Plus is, for lack of a less clichéd descriptor, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Before I began using Progessence Plus, I experienced horrible mood swings, intense anger, uncontrollable crying jags, exhaustion, and deep anxiety that left me unable to think or concentrate on anything important. These intense mood swings showed up exactly one week before my period and would vanish as quickly the day Aunt Flo came to town. Then I'd enjoy a week with some physical discomfort as I tried to pick up the pieces scattered during the emotional thunderstorms that blew through the previous week, followed by two weeks of feeling awesome! 

The second oil really has been almost as much of a life changer as Progessence Plus. It is actually a blend of several oils called Joy. The name says it all. I wear Joy daily. It has replaced my perfume, which I loved, but which was made with synthetic fragrance and other harsh chemicals. No wonder so many people get headaches from perfumes! Joy has such a delightful, uplifting aroma. I wear it daily over my heart and sometimes on my wrists or neck. Any that is left on my hands after I apply gets brushed through my hair. Each time I smell it, I get a little rush of happiness. And I've noticed that it seems to make those around me who smell it happy, too. Plus, I get a ton of compliments whenever I wear it. If I have a day when I notice I'm starting to feel a little down, I just pull out the Joy and take a whiff or apply a drop over my heart. It really is joy in a bottle and my secret weapon against depression.

If you're fighting the good fight against PMDD or even just PMS and want more information about any of the Young Living products or have questions about my diet and exercise routines, please feel free to e-mail me or leave a comment. I would love to chat with you and introduce you to healthy, all natural alternatives to prescripton and over-the-counter drugs that can help you win this war.

In health and prosperity!

(Wo)Man in the Mirror: On Self-Esteem and Positive Change

One of the hardest things to do when you grow up hating your body is to learn to look at it without cringing, crying, thinking horrible things about yourself, or just turning away in shame.

Today, for the first time in my life of 45 years, I let myself take a long – and for once – loving look at myself in the mirror during a yoga class. I almost couldn't help it, ending up on the front row in a classroom with a mirrored wall.

When we began the class, doing pranayama, or yogic breathing exercises, I caught a few glimpses of myself and my first thought was "Oh my goodness! Am I really that big? Are my shoulders that broad? My boobs that large? My thighs that thick? Really? I want to die."

But then, I told myself that a yoga class was the worst place to indulge in such negative thinking. If you can't let go of stinkin' thinkin' in a yoga class, where can you free yourself from such useless ideas?

So, as we began moving through our flow I started using the mirror to correct my alignment and form and I realized that maybe I was wrong. I mean, yes, I am bigger than the ideal I hold in my head. But suddenly, I realized the girl, the woman, I was looking at wasn't fat. She wasn't grotesque or someone I needed to shield my eyes from. She was actually kind of beautiful, kind of strong looking. As I moved into cobra, I noticed the strong and defined muscles in her shoulders and the smooth tanned skin.

Moving into pigeon pose, I was aware of how seamlessly I transitioned from downward dog with an extended leg right into pigeon, my favorite pose. I love the way it stretches and opens my hips. Then, the teacher said we could do pigeon with arms extended overhead if we felt strong enough. Asking if I'm strong enough to do something is a challenge I can never resist. I don't know why, but when I hear that phrase I am compelled to try. I often fail, but so what? So, sitting in pigeon I straightened my spine and slowly and carefully raised both arms over my head and balanced myself. I looked straight in the mirror and smiled. I was doing it! And it was easy! Well, sort of. It wasn't easy, but it felt amazing. And I looked strong as fuck doing it and I was also the first one in class to try it! Yay me! And yay for the other women who tried it when we switched to the other leg.

In another pose, balanced on one knee and one hand with the opposite leg and arm extended, I did catch sight of my abdomen curving underneath me and for a split second my heart sank and I felt myself falling into the rabbit hole of despair and self-hatred. Suddenly, though, there was another voice calling to me to pull me up and out of that hole. She said, look how strong you are, look at that balance! And look, when you contract your muscles like you're supposed to that belly vanishes. And it's way smaller than it was a few weeks ago.

This inner dialogue continued off and on throughout the class. While I know the goal with yoga is to push the thoughts away completely, I simply tried to replace bad thoughts with good ones, a feat for me. At one point, toward the end of our vinyasa flow, standing in mountain pose with arms reaching up toward Heaven – embracing the Universe as our teacher called it – I looked at that woman in the mirror and in that moment I felt strong and beautiful and confident, perfectly imperfect with strong legs to carry me, a heart strong enough to keep on loving, a mind capable of change, and arms ready to take in and love all the world including myself.

It's a journey. I didn't get here overnight or without working to become the woman I want to be. I work out 3-5 times a week, eat healthy, and try to surround myself with positive influences. More importantly on this journey to self-esteem, I stopped comparing myself to others and I've stopped listening when others want to compare me or put me down.

And you should to... Are you trying to learn to love yourself? Then remember this: tune out the negative voices, whether they're your own, your partner's, your mean sister, your mom or your dad, or the queen bee who thinks her shit smells like rose petals. Every time one of those negative voices tries to get inside your head, just take your thoughts somewhere else. Find one positive thought or idea to hold onto. Look in the mirror and find one thing you love about yourself. Your friendly smile. Your gorgeous grey eyes (or brown or blue, you get the idea). Your shiny hair. Your strong arms. Your fast legs. And every day, look yourself in the eye and remind yourself that you are awesome and lovely and perfect in all your imperfections right now. If you want to change, that's great and I will cheer you on and support you in your efforts. Just be sure you're doing it for you and not those ugly voices.

Now...go love yourself. Do great things for yourself and others. Be mighty. Be you!

A Closer Walk with Thee: Yoga, Essential Oils, and Lenten Meditation

Thankfully, we don't arrive here on this big, beautiful amazing Earth, fully formed, and knowing it all. And, yes, I'm surprised as anyone that I would be thankful for that. I am often the one frustrated by the journey, with its stops and starts, its glorious imperfection. I want to reach the finish line and win. I want to be done – with it all – basking in full-bellied contentment, like a blissed-out dog lounging in the sun.

Lately, I've been learning to enjoy the process and appreciate its value. And as I become more accepting of myself, my beliefs, and become more comfortable in my own skin, that need to "get it done," i.e. achieve some sort of perfection, seems less important. As I've applied those same principles to others, acceptance of all that is expands even more.

Like with anything worthwhile, though, I know even learning to enjoy the process is a process. For me, it's a process that begins with faith and practice. As a Catholic, and a converted one to boot, my faith entails a bit more than merely showing up to church on Sunday mornings. I am called to action that serves others, called to prayer and study and ritual that draw me closer to Christ. As a convert who came into the church feeling like those around me had a lifetime's advantage of observing and practicing their faith, there were times when I felt like at outsider (a theme in my life) and would never get it, would never feel as close to Christ as those around me because somehow they had secret insider information you only get by being born in the Church.

What I've learned some 13 years into the process is that there is no secret and everyone's path winds in a slightly different direction. For me, it has meant integrating my faith into other things I love. Making sure my family says grace at dinner. Remembering to enjoy and express my gratitude for beauty in nature. Remembering to be present and enjoy ordinary moments with those I love. Using my yoga practice as a means of self-sacrifice and a reminder of all that Jesus endured for me.

I don't always remember to do these things...when I am scattered and consumed by this worry or that fear my faith and focus are fragile. However, when I am mindful and present, my faith grows hearty and heavy with blooming promise. This is how it has felt lately when I let my feet sink into the mat, planted, rooted, grounded in the Earth and part of all that is, was, or will ever be. As I feel my muscles resist the stretch, I silently invite the Holy Spirit in with my breath, and as I feel the burning sensation in my hamstrings, my arms, my rib cage, and I imagine, by contrast, the pain Jesus endured on the cross, my mantra becomes "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me a sinner."

Of course, because I'm human and one who battles Adult ADD, staying present even at my most mindful challenges me. So, since I've been learning more about essential oils I've started to incorporate them into my yoga ritual and practice to offset the distractions. I'm using Young Living's Joy and Valor oils right now because a) I love the scent and b) the energies they manipulate are the very ones I need to address right now to help increase my faith and to help me overcome any tendency toward anger or bitterness.

As I bend, twist, and then hold a pose on the mat, mantra battling for space against the encroaching worries in my head, I breathe in deeply, inhaling the aroma of the oils and with each breath I am recommitted to the moment. And as I pray, I do feel joy. I do feel stronger, both physically and in my resolve to finish the workout, to deepen my faith, to be a better human being, to love myself and others as God intended, but most of all, to truly accept that all of this is a process. And in that moment, brought present by sensation, I feel, in the words of St. Patrick, "Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit, Christ when I stand," and for that moment, all is right with the world.

What rituals and practices help make you more mindful? I'd love for you to share them with me in the comments.

The Fabulous Life - An Unsolicited Review of FabKids

When my boys were infants, they were always dressed in style. From the elegant, handcrafted outfits my mother-in-law created with love and talent for them, to the adorably smocked john-johns and bubble suits bought at specialty boutiques or consignment sales or handed down from friends and relatives, my boys exuded Southern charm and taste.

As they entered pre-school and elementary school, style gave way to practical concerns such as how fast my boys were growing and how messy they could be, given the fact they were boys. Dirty, messy, active boys guaranteed to spill, smudge, tear or otherwise ruin any outfit in 30 minutes or less, especially if it was special.

So, I bid adieu to the fancy boutiques and even department stores like Macy's or Kohl's and resigned myself to Target, which, for the money, can't be beat in terms of both style and affordability, especially when one of your boys constantly wears a hole in the knee of every pair of jeans he puts on - and it's always the left knee. 

I just couldn't justify the cost of shopping anywhere else, especially since the age gap between my kids and their totally disparate builds and personal styles mean that hand-me-downs aren't really happening for us. Yet, that said, I was beginning to grow tired of the Cherokee, Levi's, Champion, and Shaun White offerings and wished I could find an affordable alternative that would give my kids well-made, affordable kiddie style.

Enter FabKids. 

One day a week or so ago an ad popped up on Facebook offering a free outfit valued at $29.95 for signing up  for a membership with this kids' clothing site. After browsing the selections, I fell in love with a crazy outfit that was right up Beckett's alley! 

This kid has a style that is all his own. He loves to pair a purple shirt with red pants and a top hat. He's a fan of sweater vests, tie-dye, brightly colored pants, and crazy t-shirts. His style is what I call "crazy artiste" because he is definitely that. Since he was 4 he has declared that he will be an artist when he grows up and so far he's on the path.

So the outfit I loved can best be described as "Banana Pants with Andy Warhol tee." 

Adorable! Right? Don't get me wrong. I detest those preppy pants with whales and anchors and preppy shit emblazoned on them. But bananas? That's, well...Bananas! Who wouldn't love that? 

So, I signed up for the membership, which essentially means that I filled out a questionnaire about what my kid's style is or what style I was looking for, his age, his sizes, etc. Then, I was presented with several outfits - all priced at $29.95 for the two pieces (shirt and pants). The introductory offer let me choose one outfit for free and only pay shipping and handling, so I got the above outfit for just $4.95!

Each month I'll be sent a link to a selection of that month's outfits based on Beckett's style profile to choose from. I can choose as many as I want and they will each be priced at $29.95 for 2 pieces. I will have until the 10th of the month to either choose my outfits or skip the month. If I skip, I won't be charged at all. If I buy, obviously I will be charged for what I do purchase. However, if I forget to skip, I'll be charged 29.95 anyway with nothing to show for it. 

Now, I do have a girlfriend who told me she hated FabKids. She felt like it was a bait and switch. The first month or two she loved the outfits and their quality, but felt that they declined in both style and quality over time. With her warning in mind, I was eager to receive my first order so I could compare notes.

It arrived yesterday and I am really impressed! Both I and my son loved the outfit. Older brother was totally jealous I didn't order the pants for him, which was a complete shock because he hates flashy (as he puts it) clothes! 

I was impressed with both how quickly the order came and their packaging. Both items were neatly folded with tissue inside separate inner plastic bags that came inside this cute package: 

That sounds like a lot of packaging, but I was pleased to note that all the plastic wrap was recyclable and the package included a reminder imprinted upon it to do so. 

As the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words and I think these pictures sum up nicely how we feel about our first experience with FabKids:

My little monkey in his banana pants and Andy Warhol tee. 

Monkey boy in motion - doing a happy dance over his new outfit. 

So, if you're looking for options for kids clothes and you like the convenience of online ordering, check FabKids out and let me know what you think!

Oh yeah...The disclaimer! This post was not solicited, sponsored, paid for, or otherwise endorsed by FabKids, their agent, or anyone at all associated with the company. 

Build Me Up, Buttercup

I was a little surprised by how much the essay by New York Times writer Pamela Druckerman resonated with my friends. Not that what she says isn't essentially true, but rather because it seemed to really strike them as revelatory, where as to me it was covering old ground. That said, while I've known these things, I've only recently reached the point where I was ready to start living some of these truths, including being ready to accept that some people just will not like me and that's okay.

I've worried before that if I admitted to certain likes or dislikes or pursued specific interests there would be some who would mock me or think less of me. But guess what, I've learned...if they're willing to judge me and would mock me for my beliefs, I probably don't agree with their values and shouldn't be friends with them anyway.

So, all of that is to say, some of you may read the rest of this post and think, "God, that woman is a total flake!" Some of you may read it and think I'm overly judgmental or clueless or that I "just don't get it." And that's okay. You can disagree with me. Just respect my right to believe what I believe and I'll do the same for you.

Alright... So with that out of the way, I really wanted to share some information that I feel is making me and my family happier and healthier.

Recently, I was introduced to Young Living Essential Oils by my cousin, Heather. Technically, she's my husband's cousin, but to me she's family and I love her as if she were my own blood. Heather has been using essential oils to help treat her children's asthma for a while and after seeing the success she had, I was intrigued.

Our family experienced some health issues as the result of side effects from a medicine one of us was treated with...side effects never mentioned by the doctor or the pharmacist or listed on any materials associated with the drug. It was very scary and added to my growing distrust in modern medicine. Between doctors getting paid by pharmaceutical companies to prescribe their drugs, the spread of antibiotic-resistant bacteria like MRSA, and the fact that medical mistakes are the third leading cause of death in America (behind #1 heart-disease and #2 cancer), I prefer to have options.

I'm never going to be someone who stops seeing the doctor or doesn't vaccinate her kids. That's just not who I am. I do however believe that there are old home remedies and natural remedies that are just as powerful and far safer than prescription drugs and modern interventions. I've often wished I had my grandmother's recipe for a headache tonic. I remember her using it on me when I began having migraines as a kid and now when I get a migraine, I crave the cool, soothing cloth and smell of camphor that always eased me into a pain-free sleep.

So, for me, essential oils make sense. I was willing to give it a shot and I must say, I'm quite glad I have. I have discovered that I can knock out a sinus infection in under 24 hours without the use of antibiotics and all their nasty side effects. I've also found something I can use to alleviate some of the anxiety and stress my son feels without having to resort to using dangerous drugs with God-only-knows what kinds of long-term effects.

It may or may not be for you, but if you're curious and would like to learn more, I'm happy to share what I've learned or direct you to folks who know even more than me.

Move On

"Such a waste to look behind you.... Should be lookin' straight ahead..."

And so, that's what I'm doing. I'm looking ahead after a year and a half that has had ups and downs, blessings and busts. My family has had health crises, job changes, added a new puppy (now dog) to the mix, and I've often bitten off more than I can chew. Yet, here I am, still...moving on...and as always, hoping praying
for the best outcome for my family.

One of the biggest revelations for me over the last several months was just how bitter and angry I had become. There were many reasons. Some of them, I've even talked about on this blog. I've carried a lot of pain, a lot of anger, and a lot of hate around in my heart for some time. I've been thinking a lot about how I need to let it all go, but sometimes, we've held on to things so tightly – not because they benefit us or keep us afloat. No, rather like a person who is drowning and flailing hopelessly in the water, we latch on frantically to whatever or whoever comes near us, even if they can't pull us ashore and we cling desperately until we are both pulled under.

I've done that with my hurt feelings about never quite fitting in to my neighborhood, about the queen bee whom I blame for taking up so much space and ruling the social scene with such an iron thumb that I never got my footing or found my place even after living here 10+ years. I've done it with my anger at God for my son's dyspraxia. I've done it with disappointments in my marriage and home life. I've done it with my anger toward my mother (dead now 13 years) for never telling me who my father is.

I've clung to my anger because I had no idea what it meant to let it go. The idea of letting my anger go made me feel like a victim all over again...a helpless child wanting to be understood and loved. Letting go of my anger meant taking down the one thing I had to protect myself with. It meant that the "bad guys" won. And until now that mattered.

Lately, I've felt a slight shift in my heart. I've realized that my anger isn't hurting the people I want to hurt. It's just hurting me. And my kids. And my husband. It keeps me insulated and isolated and ever more fearful and incapable of living peacefully and joyfully as I was intended.

So, yeah...I'm moving on as the song goes. Moving on with the grace and support of God and some dear friends who love me and accept me where I am. Moving on with excitement about the new health and fitness challenges I've accepted for myself (who knew running could be fun?!). And moving on with a plan to once again engage in the things I love, to separate the signal from the noise, and engage with the people and things that make my heart sing as all the rest – including all that hate and anger that was weighing me down – slowly recedes behind me.

The Heart of the Matter

I don't love clichés, but they really can get right to the heart of the matter sometimes. Sometimes there simply aren't words – the right words, enough words – to give comfort or to explain a situation. And in those situations, sometimes clichés, the tired but comfortably worn words and phrases we've known all our lives, are all that we have left.

Today, I've been extremely frustrated and upset over what I perceive as a situation at my son's school. It's ridiculous, really, that I should feel this so deeply. That I should find myself furious over it. I mean, punch-the-wall-angry. And not merely angry over the situation, which I will explain in a moment, but angry because I feel so lonely and isolated and like very few other parents feel what I'm feeling. And there's nothing worse than feeling alone.

Oh! But how is all that related to clichés, you ask? Well, remember the one that says "To become a mother is to forever have your heart go walking around outside your body?" And that is precisely how I've felt all day. I mean, it's not that I don't usually feel it, but today I felt it acutely because I feel like my son and other kids at his school are being treated unfairly. Just writing that, I can feel the anger boiling up inside me.

Every semester his school has an Honors Day ceremony at which children are awarded certificates for academic achievement, any special awards from activities like spelling bees or events like the stock market competitions, and citizenship awards.

At the ceremony, certain children are chosen to lead the Pledge of Allegiance, welcome the parents, and give what is referred to as an "inspiration." Almost to a one, the only students selected to do this are from our school's magnet class. The magnet class is chosen by lottery but they are the favored students in our school, getting French 4 times per week, mostly white kids from two-parent homes, with a high level of support from the parents. In the four years I've been attending these events, I can think of only a handful of non-magnet kids or boys from any class who have had the honor of speaking role. Worse yet, one little girl has spoken at every single Honors Day since first grade. I hate her. (Okay. Not really. But she is super annoying and when the vice principal called her out today after she spoke by saying "Isn't she precious, everyone? I just looooove her!", I wanted to hurl.

So, I should just say "life's not fair" and move on. Except I can't because it affects that part of me walking around outside my body...that quickly growing son whom I love beyond measure.

I want my son to know how to stand up in a room full of people and speak with confidence. Unfortunately, with such limited opportunities and the few that do exist being given to the same kids over and over again, he may never get the chance while he's young enough to enjoy it without being overly insecure and analytical about his performance.

The thing is, every child deserves a chance. Not just mine. I remember being a goody-goody, straight A student who was also very shy. But I always knew the right answer and would always raise my hand in class. Being smart was the only thing I was good at as a child and I wanted that recognition of being called upon and getting the right answer. However, all of my teachers made a point of calling on the kids who rarely raised their hands or even choosing one who hadn't raised a hand to keep things equitable and to get everyone involved.

It was suggested to me by another parent when I pointed out this inequity that I'm nuts. Another parent suggested that perhaps the kids who get chosen volunteer.  And while I may be nuts, I know unfairness when I see it. And this ain't fair folks, even if the kids do volunteer.

I would say that it's incumbent upon the teachers to keep track of who did it last time (this could be a list on the chalkboard) and pick names out of a hat so that everyone has a fair shot at getting to do it. It's not that hard to be equitable. And to ensure that students from classes other than the magnet class get a chance, one child from each classroom should be chosen. Again, not that hard...four slots to fill, four classes. Go figure.

Of course, I thought writing about it would make me feel better and so far it hasn't. I feel slightly less angry. I also sent a polite note to my son's teacher asking her to explain the selection process. Again, while it was taking action, I'm not sure it will make a difference.

In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts. How are things like this handled at your kids' schools? What was it like when you were a kid? Should I let this go or speak up?

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

When I took a look at Facebook today, I was overwhelmed with the number of posts asking what I was going to do with "this once in a lifetime day, 12/12/12". So much pressure.

 So, while I'd love to say I had something really amazing planned, you know, like base jumping or getting married (to my husband again), or having a baby (like my husband's beautiful cousin is doing today!). I'm not. Today is just another day with laundry that awaits folding, a body longing to be stretched and moved through yoga, a husband recovering from surgery, Christmas gifts left to buy, kids who need help with their homework, and dinner waiting to be cooked. But, just like "any other day," the Belle of the Blog, even though she's been silent for many a month, ("Has it been that long?" you say. Indeed, it has, I tell you!) still has an opinion and a few ideas about where you should be buying any Christmas, Kwanza, Hannukah, or Festivus gifts left on your list. So, that end, I've created a list and while I'm not profiting in any way (other than through karmic good) by sharing this with you, I'm hoping some of my many creative, talented, entrepreneurial friends and contacts will. I hope you'll check out some of these gift ideas. If you're so inclined, please share a link to this post on your blog or Facebook page and consider it your good deed on this "once in a lifetime" day. 

Alrighty...Well, where to begin?

Let's start with books....

Books

My fellow Agnes Scott College alumna and English major, Jennifer Garlen, has three great books available right now.

Classic movie novices looking to expand their forays into such deep terrain, will welcome never having to waste two hours on a terrible movie again once you give them Beyond Casablanca: 100 Movies Worth Watching. 

If you have Muppet fans on the list, they might enjoy one of the two following books.

First, Kermit Culture, through a series of academic essays, explores both the cultural influences on Jim Henson that affected his work and the impact those beloved fuzzy creatures had on popular culture. 

Those who want to look at Henson's impact through some of his other works beyond The Muppets will enjoy The Wider Worlds of Jim Henson: Essays on His Work and Legacy Beyond The Muppets and Sesame Street, which looks at his other projects including Fraggle Rock, The Dark Crystal, Labyrinth, The Jim Henson Hour, Farscape, and many more of his works. 

If you have a short story reader or Southern literature fan to shop for, check out "The Ballad of Shirley T and Other Short Stories" by my fellow ASC alumna Perrin Conrad. Like any great Southern writer, Perrin has a flair for creating uniquely captivating characters. 



Now, on to our next category...

Personalized Gifts

If you're looking for something truly unique, customized especially for your dear loved one, check out my friend Monica's Etsy story, Monogram Perfect. Monica actually had a brick and mortar store for years at the Opry Mills Mall in Nashville, Tennessee until it was destroyed in Nashville's 100-Year Flood a few years back. Now, she creates her lovely one-of-a-kind treasures from her home and sells them via Etsy or another web site. Personally, I love this cute grandparents' plaque that you can have tailored with your parents' g-name. One order of MeMe and Lolli for delivery, please...  Seriously, though, do check out her store. She has some precious items for the babies, kids, ladies, and monogram lovers in your life. 


Girly Gifts

If you're looking for a sophisticated, sexy, and tasteful fragrance gift for yourself or someone special, check out Poisoned Apple Potions. This clever store sells hand-blended body scrubs, lotions, butters, and perfumed oils. The brain child of another Agnes Scott graduate, Poisoned Apple Potions will appeal to more sophisticated tastes. The store even features a special Agnes Scott themed line whose sale benefits the College's annual fund. 

Alright, well, that's a start my dears! I'll have a few more ideas in the days to come, but I hope these ideas help at least someone out of a gift-giving predicament today.

Be sweet, y'all! And remember to share a link with a friend. 

Back in the Saddle, Again: The Belle is Back

Holy cow, y'all! It has been a while. Well, welcome back.

I've been focused on my freelance business. It has been a busy year. And exciting! As I was taking on several new freelance clients, taking care of my boys, starting a great yoga regimen, and just livin' life, my mister started traveling for work. It has made for a very busy year. So busy, that it has been almost a full year since I've blogged, I think.

I've missed it. And you!

Now that fall, um, the BEST SEASON OF THE YEAR, has arrived, my creative juices are flowing again. I have a fair amount going on, but I want to re-commit (again!) to blogging my wee little heart out.

I have a couple of new recipe posts to add in the next day or two. Plus some other stuff I'm working on or have on my mind. So, look for my posts.

And have a beautiful day!

(You Took My) Joy (I Want It Back)

I wish I could go to Slidell and look for my joy. West Memphis, even.

If only it were that easy. My joy ain't in Slidell. And sure as Hell ain't in West Memphis.

I don't know where that shit is. But I think, after weeks of feeling miserable and acting like a bitch on wheels, I know when it started seeping out of my life. Joy, that is.

September 10, 2001. Ten years ago today.

That was the day the tiny cracks started to form in the foundation of my dream life. The day when I realized that I was neither charmed nor lucky or that if I ever had been my luck, very suddenly, had run out.

Oh, it's not that I had such a blessed an easy life up until that point. I was raised by a single mother at a time when that little feat earned you the moniker of Bastard in a shitty little house in what my husband has referred to as a slum. I was mocked for being poor. My mother worked two jobs and I never saw her and nothing I ever did was ever good enough. Oh yes...And she thought I was fat.

Somehow, though, things worked out for the best most of the time. Mostly because I was smart and worked hard. I got through school, got a scholarship, and got the Hell out of Dodge.

Anyway, things worked out okay. Not exactly the life I'd envisioned, but I ended up with a career I loved, married to a pretty cool guy, I converted to Catholicism, we bought our first house, and we were starting what I imagined would be a pretty cool life filled with friends, a family of our making, faith, and more good things than I had ever imagined. I was happy. All the time. Joyful. Optimistic. Loved. Loving.

Right after we moved into our house, I learned that I was pregnant with our first child. We had been married for a year and though it was a bit sooner than we planned, I was excited. And scared. But mostly just excited and trusting that it must be God's will.

Fast forward several weeks and there I was spending a weekend spotting and knowing that I was losing my baby – listening to a doctor tell me over the phone "If you're having a miscarriage – and you probably are – there is nothing we can do about it anyway. You just have to let nature take its course. You're not that far along. It happens."

It happens. Oh. Yes. Death. It happens. All the fucking time.

So, I spent Monday, September 10, 2001 at the hospital having another much more compassionate doctor confirm that I had lost the baby, having over 20 vials of blood drawn, making the logistical arrangements for a D & C scheduled for the next morning, and feeling so hollow from the experience that I simply didn't actually feel anything.

And then, the next day, I started feeling again. Pain. Heartache. A gut-wrenching sorrow that has never gone away. I only bury it until some other horrible thing splits my heart in two again and it all comes spilling out.

Best friends moving far away. Death. War. The death of a friend's child. Worrying constantly about a child and feeling helpless. PPD. Losing new friends and not knowing why. Feeling like I've wasted my life, somehow missed a calling but not having a clue what it was. Always wanting something that seems just out of reach but not knowing what it is. Constantly wishing I could turn back the hands of time and do things differently. Feeling like a failure...as a wife, as a mother, as anything that matters.

It seems that ever since September 10, 2001, there have been innumerable little setbacks, disappointments that by themselves would not matter. Yet, stacked one upon the other they have mounted into a stack of trouble I can no longer carry.

I know that hidden in there are beautiful gems of joy. My beautiful husband. My two perfect little boys. Friends. Music. Books and stories. Nature. My faith in God.

But for some reason, right now I'm realizing that the pain weighs more than the joy. And I'm so tired. I want to put it down. I want to start off again. Fresh and rested and light.

I just don't know how. And I find myself so angry all the time. Angry at all the people who have never had to see or feel or carry the pain in this world. The ones who have it easy. Of course, I know that's not helping my case, but, as my sons would say, stamping their feet, "It's not fair!"

Why does God burden some of us more than others? And what do I do with desire to smack the smug smiles off the faces of those who do have it so easy? I don't want to feel this way. It's not who I am. It's not who I used to be.

I want my Joy back.

I pray that tomorrow comes with the blessings I need to right my ship and find my way, quickly, back to my joy. Father, open my heart and mind to your gifts and protect me from the sorrow and grief, the anger and fear that threaten to consume me. Thank you for the time I sent with my boys tonight, for the beautiful full moon, and the gift of words. And wherever she is, bless my baby girl. Amen.

With a Little Help from My Friends: Music (& Money) Monday

Today, I'm combining a couple of things. Music – my first true love – and friendship.

My friend Daryl whom I've known since we were 12 has been battling non-Hodgkins Lymphoma for a couple of  years. In May, he had a bone marrow transplant. Because he works for a non-profit, Daryl is uninsured. Also, because having a bone marrow transplant essentially takes out your whole immune system for a while, Daryl cannot go back to work. He and his partner, Danny, are doing their best to survive financially and emotionally during this trying time. To help pay Daryl's medical bills and make ends meet, they are raising money through an organization called ChipIn that allows individuals and groups to easily raise money online. If you can help, please click the link below to make a donation.



And, in the meantime, enjoy one of my favorite songs about the power of friendship.

Back in the Saddle Again: The Summer Hiatus is Over

Well, I'll be gosh-darned if it hasn't been a while!

Yes, I am back from my late-spring, early summer hiatus. It happens most every year. The kids are out of school and I'm trying to balance my freelance work and responsibilities as a mom and something has to give. Unfortunately, it's usually blogging. I still, after all these years have not found the perfect balance. Yet, I continue to seek it.

To make matters all the more challenging, I've thrown a part-time job working as an office manager at a local company into the mix. Just for the comfort of a regular, albeit small, paycheck. After all, Fernbank memberships and Chick-fil-A kids' meals don't pay for themselves and I figure my hard-working husband deserves a  hand paying for some of these things.

Starting this week, however, I'm going to work on balancing the things I love (playing with my kids, writing for fun) with the things I do because I love my family (cleaning house, working for a paycheck).

Starting tomorrow, I'm going to work hard to adhere to the editorial calendar and guidelines I set for myself a while ago and try to start posting daily again. We'll see how it goes.

BBQ is Not a Verb, Y'all! A Review of Moe's Original BBQ in Atlanta

As any good Catholic girl or boy might do when preparing for Lent, the 40 days leading up to Easter, I thought long and hard about the Lenten sacrifice I would make. The last few years I've tried to adopt good habits like daily mass, daily prayer, or daily acts of kindness and compassion, but this year, I decided I would actually make a true sacrifice by giving up meat for 40 days.

I knew that at every meal as I had to think about how to prepare or buy a meatless meal, I would actually think about the reason I had sacrificed something. I did great, eating no meat except fish, until I was invited to review a new BBQ restaurant here in Atlanta. And sadly, that's just an unfair temptation to a Southern girl's heart. With all apologies to Jesus, I went to the media tasting at Moe's Original BBQ at 349 14th Street in Midtown just three days before my fast would be over. I sincerely felt bad about it, but boy, was it good!

Now, let me get this out of the way. I've mentioned it before...I don't really like chain restaurants and rarely eat at them with the exception of taking the kids out for lunch. That said, the fact that Moe's Original BBQ is a chain did not faze me all that much once I stepped into the joint which is housed in the renovated Kool Korners Grocery location near Georgia Tech and smelled the 'cue cookin' in all its smoky glory.

The location itself isn't "lived in" enough yet, but I've seen plenty of places near Tech get that shabby-chic, lived-in and well-loved look quickly enough. And with a Wednesday Ladies' Night and Thursday night Team Trivia along with the occasional music on Friday and Saturday nights, it won't take long.

Of course, the food itself will be the biggest draw. I had a very hard time deciding what to order, but ultimately went with a basic pulled pork platter. I also tried the smoked Buffalo wings and my new vegetarian fave, the BBQ Tofu sandwich. In a word....Amazing!

Of course, the menu is ample with selections ranging from the basic pulled pork and ribs, to the more adventurous  Shrimp Moeboy sandwich, Mahi Mahi and catfish.

The pulled pork had a great smoky flavor, but most importantly, it was super moist, even before I put any sauce on it. All of their meats (and the tofu!) are smoked on site. I was curious since the company bills itself as serving "Bama-style" BBQ, a style of 'cue with which I was previously unaware. Having lived my whole life in the South, I am well familiar with the various styles of 'cue and sauce. Hell, my home state of Tennessee is known for favoring two very different styles, but even my husband and my dear friend Lucy who are both from Alabama weren't sure what style of BBQ their home state would be noted for, both pointing to Dreamland BBQ as a reference.

After talking with Brett, one of the owners of the Atlanta Moe's BBQ, I learned that part of the reason they call theirs "Bama" style is the fact that the restaurant originated in Tuscaloosa and the other being that Alabama, like Georgia, is something of a melting pot of BBQ styles. I must say, I liked what I had. A lot. And yes, they do offer a white sauce on request, though it does come with the uniquely delicious chicken wings, as a delightful alternative to bleu cheese. It also came on the BBQ Tofu sandwich along with their red sauce, which was the perfect blend of sweet and spicy. I always have to mix sauces at most places to find the taste I'm looking for, but this sauce was, in the words of my foodie twin Goldilocks, just right.

As far as sides go, I only tried the mac-and-cheese which was pretty good, and the marinated slaw which was out of this world. I like a little more brightness to my mac-and-cheese, but it was nice and moist and cheesy, not bland or starchy in the ways it so often can be when ill prepared. The slaw was truly fantastic with bits of jalapeño mixed into a blend of red and green cabbage and the standard slaw mix which is all then marinated overnight in their vinegar-based dressing. Good stuff. I look forward to going back and trying their banana pudding, the only dessert I saw offered. Oh! And I almost forgot. Cornbread. They serve cornbread with their platters which is a little different from what I'm accustomed to around here. It was good, though I prefer a slightly less sweet cornbread. The sweetness was cut by bits of jalapeño throughout and it was moist. I can forgive overly sweet cornbread, but will not abide that which is too dry.

Finally, as a parent, I also have to give a shout out to the kid-friendliness of this place. Due to its proximity to GA Tech, I'd be inclined to get in and out of there before 8 p.m. since Moe's does offer a full bar and lots of drink specials, but it's just the right kind of open, loud (in the best possible way), bright, fun space that welcomes kids and families as well as the Midtown lunchtime crowd and happy, good-time seeking college students. There's also a deck, which although it wasn't open when I was there because they didn't have their custom-made deck furnishings yet, should also be a great place to hang this summer, with or without the wee ones in tow.

I'll definitely be heading back and despite my misgivings about chains hope they'll open a second Atlanta store in my neck of the woods.

He Gets That from Me: Pictures of This Year's Star Wars Cake

It must be Star Wars week here at Belle of the Blog, because today I'm going to share with y'all some more tips for a Star Wars birthday party so you can create the party of his dreams for that special six to 10-year old boy in your life. For the record, this was my third Star Wars birthday party, so it's getting to be old hat for me. In fact, this year, I was feeling so confident about it, that we decided to wing it as far as games and activities are concerned. At seven and eight, I kind of felt like the kids are old enough just to entertain themselves without the need for a lot of games or activities. So, until the pizza arrived, the boys and one girl, entertained themselves playing with Brendan's extensive collection of Star Wars action figures and Legos.

The star of this year's party, other than my adorable birthday boy of course, was definitely the cake. Brendan has decided that he likes my cakes better than any bakery's (yay!), but this year that meant tackling a challenging theme: Hoth. For those of you who don't remember (or whose children aren't obsessed with the great sci-fi trilogy), Hoth is the ice planet in The Empire Strikes Back. When Brendan first told me he wanted a Hoth cake, I was hopeful that it would be easy. It's a planet covered in snow! I could ice it with white frosting and stick a Lego set  that we already had on top. I'm no professional decorator. I dabble. I play at cake decorating. I have fun with it. But I don't know what the heck I'm doing.

Nope. Brendan didn't want me to use his Lego set. He wanted something else. But he didn't know what exactly. So, after much careful consideration and thought about what I was capable of, I decided to recreate the scene where Han Solo's Tauntaun dies and he... uses it... to save Luke Skywalker. I actually combined it with this backdrop:

I know. I know. Star Wars purists will be offended, but I wanted it to be obvious we were on Hoth and it was getting complicated.

So, how did the cake turn out? Well, what do you think? I know it's not totally perfect, but for my first time working with gum paste, well, let's just say, it could have turned out much worse.

In case, you can't tell, Han is actually an action figure, not gum paste. The towers and the tauntaun are gum paste that I dyed (in the case of the large beast) using gel based food coloring. For the record, gum paste, at least the kind I used, tastes like sweetened sweat socks.

But, it's great for making 3-D figures on a cake. I guess fondant might work, but I've never tried to work with it and this was pretty easy.

The kids loved it but the Yoda Soda was a bit less of a hit than it was in first grade. Different kids, different tastes.

I'm hoping next year I get to branch out and try something else. Although, I do have this crazy aspiration to make a Death Star cake.

Music Monday: Tatooine

No, I didn't fall off the face of the Earth. I've just been busy with Life... looking for a steady job, taking care of sick kids, some volunteer work, starting pee-wee flag football with my youngest, and various and sundry other projects.

Sadly, I did fall off the 31DBBB wagon somewhere around Day 19. So close! Maybe I can pick it up again.

Anyway, I just very quickly in the last hours of the day wanted to squeeze in this amazing video. I love this song by Jeremy Messersmith so much and the video by artist Eric Power really, truly brings joy to my heart each time I see it!

Enjoy!

Fabulous Friday: You Light Up My Life

My husband picks on me sometimes because I so often look outside myself for inspiration and guidance. You'd think that as an only child, I'd be more independent and less reliant on others. But I'm not. Sue me. I take my inspiration wherever I can find it. Sunny day. Wise words from a close friend. Self-help books. And blogs.

The last 3 weeks or so, I've found some great inspiration in the SITSGirls community for bloggers. One blogger in particular has inspired me with her enthusiasm, tirelessness and work ethic, the long list of all she does – including caring for a daughter with special needs – and the leadership she has shown as moderator for the SITSGirls 31 Days to Build a Better Blog challenge. Shelley, from I'm Still Standing, is an awe-inspiring person who just does what needs doing. She makes me feel like I can do anything, too.

Every day I think, I don't know if I can finish this, but then I see all that Shelley does and I read her daily posts that are written with such joy and light and I think, "Well, I have to do this. If Shelley can do it with all the other things she has going on, I can do it." And I do. Then, I feel happier and closer to my own personal goals.

Thank you, Shelley, for sharing all that you do and for being a great leader on this journey to a better blog!