#artsplash our Grand Adventures: Philadelphia Museum of Art

i'm starting in the middle/end of our summer Grand Adventures, because this program actually ends on September 7, so you can still make it if you rush!

you know how sometimes places advertise a Kid's Program! then when you get there it's lame, understaffed, out of paper, broken crayons, empty stands where demonstrations should be...that kind of thing. you feel me, right?

well, rest assured--Art Splash at the Philadelphia Museum of Art is NONE of those things. it is absolutely awesome.

let's break it down.

please excuse the crookedness of this photo. i'm blogging, you can't expect photo editing, too...#babysteps

TRANSPORTATION: two moms, one grandmom, 10 kids ranging from 15 to 3. we caught the train (septa regional rail), which is a 5 minute drive from our house, and a 45 minute ride to the city. you can get a Family Independence Pass for $29. it covers 2 adults and up to 5 children on rail, bus and subway for one whole day. plus you don't have to fight the traffic and construction on 95. #ugh

it's about a mile to a mile and a half from Suburban Station to the Art Museum. (you're much closer to the Drexel University Academy of Natural Science, the Franklin Institute, the Free Library, etc.) not really a terrible walk, so long as it's not 200% humidity. but what it lacks in physical coolness is made up for in the idiomatic coolness of culture and experiences (like the homeless town just past the Rodin Museum)

checking out the GIGANTIC screens in the comcast building

real talk: regional rail is relatively clean and safe. mostly commuters headed into or home from work, or college students. if you miss rush hours there's a good chance you'll have plenty of room. and once you get past the hairy parts of making sure your kiddos don't fall onto the tracks (not gonna lie, that gives me all sorts of heart palpitations. even standing 10 feet away and holding on to them for dear life) and making sure you don't miss your train, it's basically stress-free. you can drink your DD and laugh at all the fools stuck on 95.

THE MUSEUM: admission is $20/adult, kids under 12 are free. your ticket is valid for 2 consecutive days, and also gets you admission to the Rodin Museum and the Perelman Building. (plus you get that sweet little metal button with a foldover tab to clip on your shirt, and i'm instantly in 3rd grade again)

there are a lot of discounts if you keep your eyes open. we actually grabbed Groupons for this trip, so we paid a little less. you can check the museum website for more info.

real talk: the museum is obviously an experience in and of itself, but honestly the thought of taking children under the age of 10 into echo-y marble halls filled with priceless works gives me the cold sweats. they. don't. whisper. they don't understand that yes it's a chair but NO DON'T SIT IN THAT CHAIR IT'S NOT ACTUALLY FOR SITTING and no, this ISN'T the museum where you can touch things. but this program helps with that. i'd go so far as to say that Art Splash made us feel welcome, and made the museum feel more accessible.

Art Splash starts in their studio. there's a new "theme" every 2 weeks, and we hit S is for Shadow. the staff (who are super nice) demonstrate an art project, hand out supplies, and let you have at it. no time limits, no pressure.

the studio also has a little reading area with comfy chairs and some toys for smaller siblings who quickly lose interest.

once you're done there, hand over your license and get an Ipad mini. it's all set up with their scavenger hunt type program, based on the book "A is for Art Museum". letter by letter the Ipad leads you around the museum, tracking your progress and congratulating you when you find the next work. At each stop the program gives you a little more: arrange your adult in the same position as the statue, watch a video about how this was made, listen to the  sounds the birds in this tapestry make, use the flashlights to find more details, etc.

it gives them a PURPOSE. there's something for them to DO now, besides walk and walk and NOT TOUCH, and something to look for besides boobies and pee-pees. (you know it's true and don't lie)

you also have access to the closest bathroom location, on demand. thumbs up.

along the way we ran into another art stop, where the kids made and played with shadow puppets. we have big plans of recreating this activity at home.

it took us about 3 hours to do the whole alphabet, with a break for lunch.

the museum seems to be trying hard to involve you in the experience. there's touch screens to explain smaller exhibits, we translated our names into Korean and printed them out, and we only had one run in with security...when the 3 and 4 year olds decided to climb on an ancient column capital. oops.

after we finished and returned our Ipad, we spent some time in the Art Splash Gallery, which is right outside the studio. more artwork on display, including some hands on exhibits. like this magnetic leaf tree, which we rainbowtized for them. you're welcome.

so in case it's not obvious, we had a blast. i highly recommend this activity, and fully plan on doing it again next summer if they have it.

RATINGS:
mom: ☻☻☻☻☺
"ha! made you learn in summer!"

guinevere (age 15) ☻☻☻☻☻
"the art museum is amazing"

harrison (age 13): ☻☻☻☻☺
"it was fun."

ava (age 11) ☻☻☻☻☻/☺ (that's 4.5 happy faces)
"there was a lot of beautiful art"

gigi (age 6) ☻☻☻☻☻
"i number it 10 happy faces"

elliot (age 4) ☻☻☻☻☻
"i liked it super super super much"

BONUSES: obviously, there's letting your kids do the Rocky run up the front steps, even if they have absolutely no idea who or what he is.
Rocky himself is no longer on the top of the steps, he's relocated to an area at the bottom right in the trees.

also, i highly recommend sister cities park, especially if it's hot. it's about a 10 minute walk back towards city hall. they've created an oasis in the heart of the city. kids can explore and splash and burn off the energy built up by all that NOT TOUCHING.

adventures in once a month meals, part deux

Well, I'm four months in. Let's make this quick:

- yes, i still love it. super duper a lot.

-yes, i've had some mess ups with amounts, and a couple recipes that didn't go over well with everyone. including this "Black Bean Ranch Tortilla Casserole", which SOUNDS like it's awesome but really is quite nasty. nasty enough that personally i'm of the opinion that the original recipe blogger was playing some sort of joke on everyone dumb enough to layer smashed tortilla chips, ranch dressing, yellow squash and a bunch of other stuff...but moving on.... but honestly these issues are far and few between.

- i discussed my food budget in the last post, and I'm happy to report that in the last 4 months of doing this I've saved a total of $700. SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS. not that I have that money stashed under my bed (or even on my bed so i can roll around in it). it went to important things like underwear and socks and...i don't even know what. but seriously, SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS. hard to beat that.

- i have talked at least 5 friends into giving it a whirl. i should sell this trash.

- i just used up the last of my sam's club giant box of gallon freezer bags and foil pans last month. they lasted me through 4 EPIC COOKING DAYS. not bad.

- jeremy helped me cook a few times, and we actually had a nice system going. having a partner wasn't as confusing as i feared. but schedule-wise it works better if i cook on mondays, so i'm flying solo once again. :(

- aaaand, that's about all i can think of right now.

my July menu has a large percentage of grill meals, because it's summer after all. and i bulked up the lunches a bit since all the kiddos are home. it's nice to know they're not eating boxed mac and cheese every. single. day.
and that's what i love about this whole process, in a nutshell.

xoxo
googiemomma out.

adventures in “once a month meals”

hello, hi, how are ya? long time, no see, kiss kiss and all that jazz.

it’s been so long since i wrote here that i’m not entirely sure i even remember how. my computer was like what? whoa! what are we even doing here? is this real life??? but blogging—and conversely, Not Blogging—are a two edged sword. Not Blogging has been sad, because i missed it, but also at the same time freeing and exhilarating. and the more time i spent Not Blogging, the easier that Not Blogging became.

lots has changed over the last year, and lots has stayed the same. there have been many things i seriously, like for realsies cross my heart almost but not quite fully considered blogging about. what inspired me to finally dust off the ole laptop and put pen to paper fingers to keyboard is my first foray into the world of once a month cooking. or, as one commenter on my instagram account put it “cook for a day, eat for a month.”

let’s be real: dinner time is the pits. cooking for a large family consisting of one vegetarian, one gluten free, one threenager who’s stock answer is“i don’t like it” to everything you put it front of her unless it’s a gogurt or mac and cheese, and 7 different palates, plus just being busy…ugh.
i’ve always tried to shop for 2 weeks at a time, with a menu, plan and list in hand. but so many nights jeremy would come home from work to a cold stove and a wife with no clue…and then suddenly it’s 7:30 and everything’s going to take too long so let’s just order.

what really pushed me over the edge was 2 separate incidents occurring in the last month.
o1) we went on a 2 week vacation. TWO. WEEKS. two glorious, sunshine-y weeks full of ME NOT COOKING. do you know how hard it is to get back in the swing of things after 2 weeks of all your children picking their meals from—literally—a buffet of options every day? that you didn’t need to cook or clean up? let me tell you: REALLY REALLY FREAKISHLY HARD.

whaddaya mean mom’s not serving prime rib AND lobster tail tonight?

it feels like every day since we’ve been home i’ve said to myself okay, this is it. time to get back in the swing, back on the saddle, back in the groove, back somewhere that includes schedules and regular meals. but then every night it’s dinner and i’m all let’s get dressed fancy and go to the dining room where our waiters will serve us and sing! wait, what?

hello incredible beach where i don’t have to cook. how i miss thee…

and then…
o2) when i finally did my major post-vacation food shopping trip, we missed a bag. one bag, not a huge bag in terms of size, sat in the living room for an entire evening, then overnight, until the next morning when i went to do the school run and found it there. it was the bag with all the meat. (cue crying and wailing). chicken, roast, ice cream…about $50 worth of food—and the staples for about 1/2 of my planned meals—garbage. i never made it back to the store for replacements, so more nights than are healthy we were scrambling for meals.

SO. obviously something needs to change. we need a reset, with a new plan of action.  a family can not live on pizza and mac and cheese alone. no matter how much certain 3 year olds wish that to be so.

with that in mind i stumbled across onceamonthmeals.com and it is AWESOME. (***also, you should know i’m not sponsored or paid in any way for this. people who don’t blog for a year aren’t exactly raking in the big sponsors lolz. this is just a girl, telling a blog reader, how she feels.)

i signed up for the “pro” plan which gives me the option to customize my menus. at $16/month, about 1/3 of the cost of one pizza night for us. (they also have a regular plan for $10/month)

when you figure out your menu, you select how many servings you need and then you get EVERYTHING. i mean, EVERYTHING:

those links on the right take you to printable sheets for EVERYTHING. did you hear me???? EVERYTHING.  on the left is the top of my menu. i swapped out one breakfast i was sure no one would like for the blueberry breakfast grilled cheese, because duh.

when i want to swap, i can specify what i’m looking for: another gluten free vegetarian easy assembly breakfast anyone?

they make it fairly idiot-proof. and that’s saying something. so, proud owner of one Brand Spankin’ Shiny New Pro Membership i set off on my first EPIC COOKING DAY…day…day…day… <---because there really should be an echo to make it more dramatic, dontcha think?

wanna know how it went? read on…

STEP ONE: the planning

WHAT I DID
i picked a mix of dinners: some vegetarian, some meat, some gluten free. i chose to cook 8 servings of each because 1) teenagers ya’ll and 2) maybe leftovers?
i also built a custom gluten free menu for gigi (oh yeah, gigi bear has been gluten free for about 4 months now and it’s worked wonders but we’ll talk about that later) and cooked 2 servings of each of those meals. that way i’d have a nice little stockpile of meals and snacks just for her, for when the rest of the family is gorging on gluten. also, breakfasts have been the toughest with this. so i’m hoping some solid pre-cooked GF options in the freezer will help us steer away from the expensive GF bars that have been a fallback.

on the hardware side of things: i borrowed 2 crockpots (because i broke mine, but i only used one in the end) and took a ride to IKEA for a new large stockpot (which i needed anyway) and some more measuring spoons and cups. you honestly can’t have enough measuring implements during EPIC COOKING DAY.

WHAT I’LL DO DIFFERENTLY NEXT TIME
that’s easy: break it up. i figured since i was only doing 2 servings for gigi’s menu i could squeeze it in. but what that meant was i was cooking 8 servings of 10 meals and 2 servings of 10 other meals and snacks, each requiring prep and cooking and packing and freezer space. it was a lot, and i’ll definitely continue making separate meals for gigi, but on their own day.

STEP TWO: the shopping

WHAT I DID
we shopped on friday. no kids, just jeremy and i (yes, it was glorious) and my printed out lists. we started big and worked our way down: we hit up the local restaurant store first, where we snagged a 40 lb. case of chicken breast for $1.36/lb. my menu called for 31 lbs., and he usually cooks up a couple pounds a week for his lunches. that was a no-brainer. we also got a good deal on ground beef and a few other things. next up was sam’s club, where we got our roasts and some other staples. 3rd stop was aldi’s for the bulk of the “regular” groceries. a quick run in the local korean market for our herbs and sauces, and finally a breeze through the super wally for the last remaining items.
this may sound like a lot, but the restaurant depot and sam’s are next to each other, and the other stores run in a straight line to my house, all on the same road, and about a 3 mile drive to the furthest point.
it took us about 4 hours to shop, and maybe another 45 mins to unload and put everything away.

WHAT ABOUT THE COST???? okay, i’ll share some figures with you, because who cares it’s the internet.
my monthly grocery budget is currently hovering around $900. this includes all our food, toiletries, cleaning supplies, dog food, etc. it has grown substantially in the last 2 years as our children grow. yes, it’s more than my mortgage payment. so while you’re probably all HOLY GIANT GROCERY BILL BATMAN!!! remember we’re feeding 7. it’s about $30/day, so about $4.29/person/day for breakfast lunch & dinner. so take your average month and times it by…whatever. i actually don’t think we spend all that much, relatively speaking.

on friday, all told we spent about $580—and this includes a solid $40 worth of “packaging supplies”. we bought a case of quart freezer bags, a case of gallon freezer bags, industrial sized rolls of parchment paper and foil, etc. things i won’t have to buy again for a few months.
i am going to have to buy a few things in a couple weeks (think milk, fruit, etc.), but i’m guessing i won’t spend more than $200 at the high end.

SO that means—if this works, and this genuinely feeds our family for an entire month, we stand to have saved at least $120, or almost 15% shaved off our monthly food bill. looks like momma needs a new pair of shoes.
BUT…that remains to be seen as the month progresses. will update.

WHAT ABOUT STORING ALL THAT FOOD???? i put away all the “normal” groceries, but all of my EPIC COOKING DAY items went on the counter. we lined them up neatly and i even had ava label the tops of the cans so i could see it all at a glance.
we have a fridge on top/freezer on bottom type refrigerator and a small chest freezer. we cleaned both of those out before we went shopping, getting rid of old items and mystery meats. all of our purchases fit, with some creative jengatetrising, which is totes a word i just invented but should be a real thing. i do it all the time. 

WHAT I’LL DO DIFFERENTLY NEXT TIME
honestly, can’t think of much. i checked some sales ads, but we got better prices the way we did it. so score one for us.

actually, i take that back because i just thought of one minor thing: i went by the shopping list as gospel, and it all worked out fine, but there were a few things that were slightly off. like for some reason i had to buy 13 packets of taco seasoning?!?!?! which killed me not because of price (they’re like 34 cents each) but alllll the sodium! yikes! i couldn’t imagine any recipe that would require 13 packets of taco seasoning? in the end i only needed 2 1/2 packets, which a) calmed my heart and b) left me with a LOT of extra taco seasoning it will take me years to use up. so next time i’ll go over my list a little more thoroughly and double check some of the amounts. taco seasoning is NBD because i wasted like $2, but i’d be pretty angry if i bought 11 extra blocks of cheese or something.

and on a related note…anyone need any taco seasoning? 25 cents a packet!

STEP THREE: the prep day

WHAT I DID
they stress and stress the importance of “prep day”. don’t think you can just roll that into your EPIC COOKING DAY. prep day needs to be a day on it’s own. and this is absolutely the truth.
sunday morning it took ava, jeremy and i about 90 minutes to do all the prep. this is pre-cutting, slicing and dicing veggies, pre-cooking some rice, pasta and chicken, etc. this makes EPIC COOKING DAY run much more smoothly.

jeremy cut up 14 onions. ha. dude was straight-up sobbing by the end of it. but he volunteered for that job and i love him for it.

i also made sure the kitchen was clean, looked over my lists one more time to double check i had everything, and then banned everyone from setting foot in the kitchen. don’t. even. think. about. it.

WHAT I’LL DO DIFFERENTLY NEXT TIME
two major things:
1) more prep. there are things they didn’t specify to prep that i wish i had—and i’m not saying it’s their fault. for instance, we bought block cheese instead of pre-shredded, and i didn’t think to shred it on prep day. that took a big chunk of my time on EPIC COOKING DAY. so next time i’ll look over my menus a little more carefully and make sure i’ve really done all the prep work i can.

2) label amounts on the prepped items. there were times a recipe would call for xx amount of something, like cilantro. so i pull out my bag of pre-chopped cilantro and i’m thinking, well it says 1/4 cup, and this looks like 1/4 cup, so is it this whole bag? or no? (spoiler: i put in the whole bag. and i shouldn’t have, i needed some for another recipe. oops.) same thing with onions…2 sliced onions on prep day is listed as xx amount to go in my recipe. a little more or less in this won’t kill anyone, so i go to dump in the whole thing, but wait! do i actually need 1/3 cup of sliced onions somewhere else down the line for another recipe? obviously i could just measure, but this process is all about efficiency. having to slow down and find the measuring cup to double check is annoying, when i could just pre-mark the amounts. so yeah, next time i’ll just label everything.

STEP FOUR: the EPIC COOKING DAY

WHAT I DID
okay, so i was literally dreaming about cooking the night before, i was that worked up. i was equal parts scared to death and stoked to get cracking. (yes, stoked.)
i woke up at 7 and got dressed—hair up, bra on, comfy shoes on. this is another thing they recommend, and i think it’s a good one. my typical M.O. would be to just jump in with both feet and no bra, but that’s a decision i’d be sorely regretting 10 hours later. i brushed my teeth and drank my coffee and got going.
and went…
and went…
and went…
it took me 15 hours start-to-finish. i sat down one time for 5 minutes to say a prayer with everyone before dinner. around 2 i took a 10 minute breather and drank another cup of coffee and threw a green smoothie down my throat.
now, realize that part of the excessive amount of time is because i saddled myself with 2 menus. like i said i plan on changing that up. from what i’m reading average is around 8-12 hours, but yes 15 is possible. a lot depends on the menu you choose and the amount of food you’re making. things that go in muffin tins took longer because i had to do 2 cycles in the oven, whereas if you’re making 4 servings you may get it all baked in one go. i browned 5.5 lbs. of ground beef, which takes longer than 2 or 3 lbs. so everything was stretched out a bit for me.
i think the key to this endeavor is organization. i taped up my cooking day schedule on the cabinet where i could easily see it.

here’s some cruddy phone pics to illustrate: (and note—this is exactly how the instructions print out for you. step by step. ev-ree-thing.)

i did use my tablet for the recipes and that worked fine. i tried to keep things grouped together: salt, pepper, baking powder all in one place so when i used them they went back and didn’t get lost in my mess. i tried to wash my measuring cups/spoons/pans/pots/etc. as soon as i was finished with them, and stay on top of wiping down the counters and stove. if you don’t keep up with it you’ll have a destruction zone on your hands in no time. i had at least 2, sometimes 3 different recipes going at the same time and it took all of my brain power to keep it straight.
i had an area for all my “groceries”, an area designated for cooling items, and just outside of the kitchen i had a little table set up with all my aluminum pans, foil, freezer bags, parchment paper, etc. so that stayed together. see, organization is king. oh, and i clipped my permanent marker to my shirt. but i still lost it approximately 542 times.

this is the picture i posted on instagram, and like i said it truly is “organized chaos”. i’m fortunate to have a decent sized kitchen, but i still think this is doable in a smaller kitchen, especially if you’re not cooking quite as much. i did use up every square inch of my counter space though.
what about having help? these instructions are really written for one person, in my opinion. i think if there was more than one person doing this it would get confusing and annoying. that said, when ava came home from school she helped me roll all our galumpkis, and it was nice, because i was really flagging at that point. but later when everyone was kind of just…IN the kitchen, it made me crazy.

WHAT I’LL DO DIFFERENTLY NEXT TIME
this is tough, because there are some major things. our regular freezer is dying a slow, lingering death. stuff isn’t completely frozen, but ice cream is great. so in an ideal world? i’ll have a new one before then. i’d also like a bigger stand up freezer. the chest freezer is kind of a pain to organize.
on the not as major side, i probably won’t bother printing their labels again. they were finicky and i couldn’t get them to print correctly so i ended up just writing about 1/2 of my labels with permanent marker.
obviously, as discussed, i won’t cook 2 separate menus in one day.
also, because neve and harrison are both home during the day (cyberschool) i didn’t make arrangements for elliot to go somewhere. i regret that now, because she spent her day in front of the tv, and i wish i had set up at least a few hours playdate for her.

STEP FIVE: the aftermath

WHAT I DID
because i cleaned as i went, the kitchen was surprisingly not terrible when i was done. while my last things were cooking i loaded the dishwasher one more time (for a total of 3 runs that day), gathered up one last load of trash (for a total of 3 full bags and 2 recycling bags that day)and wiped down the counters. then i piled up all my food and organized it between the 2 freezers—some dinners on the bottom of the chest freezer for later in the month, snacks and quick meals for gigi in the kitchen freezer, etc.
and i took this awesome picture:

yeah, i’m a little bit proud of that. want the run down?
12 breakfast blueberry grilled cheese sandwiches
48 bacon cheeseburger bombs
50-ish baked ravioli bites
2x bean enchilada casserole
2x drip beef
3x grandma’s galumkis (about 40 of them)
2x lemon garlic dump chicken
16 peaches and cream waffles
1x slow cooker chicken sandwiches with roasted pepper aioli (and another serving that they ate for dinner that night)
2x slow cooker salisbury steaks
2x swiss cheese chicken
2x thai chickpea pasta
2x thai salmon tacos (which we changed to tilapia because harrison got sick once after having salmon and now it’s a no-go for him)
10 freezer poptarts
48 egg cheese & veggie breakfast tarts
12 GF cereal bar cookies
36 GF sausage cheese breakfast muffins
2x GF chicken noodle soup
2x GF mac & cheese
2x GF spaghettios
GF cheez-its
GF sweet potato snacks
20 GF chicken nuggets
and for the life of me i swear there’s something else and i can’t remember it now.

BUT HOW DOES IT TASTE? well, so far we’ve tried almost all the breakfast foods (hey, some break while you’re cooking), and most of the lunch/snack foods, and they’re all quite yummy. the chicken sandwiches they had for dinner got good reviews, but maybe less onion next time. the galumpkis were delicious tonight. gigi’s GF mac and cheese was good, considering it’s gluten free.
which brings me to…

WHAT I’LL DO DIFFERENTLY NEXT TIME
some recipes i won’t bother with again: the GF chicken nuggets were a joke. they were complicated, expensive (3 lbs. of ground chicken, at over $3/lb, plus gluten free bread crumbs) and they refused to stick together. i tried everything i could think of, refusing to let that much money be wasted. in the end they’re passable, but they’re more like medium sized patties vs. nuggets, and i’m not sure how much gigi will eat them.
and there are some recipes where the effort vs. reward scale is skewed. the sweet potato snacks were kind of annoying (cook the sweet potato, add a bunch of ingredients, roll out the dough, bake, reroll the scraps, bake more, etc…) and didn’t make very many. and they’re not great. so scratch that one.
but those are things that can happen with any recipe, so i think it’s just a matter of trial and error.
we’ve been in a dinner rut—feels like i’m constantly making the same things, so i’m trying to branch out and be a little more adventurous /with my choices in this process (thai chickpea pasta, anyone?). i’ll most definitely have some fails, but we’ve already had some wins.

OKAY, BOTTOM LINE IT FOR ME

will i do this again?
one thing i read on the site basically said that by the end of your EPIC COOKING DAY you may hate this and swear you’re never, ever doing it again. and that’s totally understandable. but come back to me 3 or 4 days from now and see what you have to say about it then.

dude, my body HURT last night. i had to take tylenol pm to sleep. i was wiped out.

BUT. tonight’s dinner was popped in the oven, and my kitchen is cleaner than it’s been after a weeknight dinner in months. tomorrow’s dinner is thawing in the fridge, and wednesday’s dinner is on the blackboard menu so i’ll know what to pull out of the freezer for thawing tomorrow. and the next day, and the next day….

and hey, look, i even had time to blog.

i think i can say definitely YES, i’ll see you next month onceamonthmeals.com.

any other questions? ask away…i’ll try to answer ;)

max and mac.

so. i've been quiet here lately. it's not that i haven't been sewing, because i have. it's not because i haven't been mentally blogging left and right, because i have.

it's more that i haven't hit that legendary ideal triangle where time, desire, idea, and project have all intersected. ummm. i guess that's a square, actually.

so, while i'm here, and i've got the ole keyboard dusted off, let's talk about a few things happening in das googiehaus.

this is kind of a biggie. our almost-11-year-old dog max had to be put down a few weeks ago. it was a combination of reasons that led to the surprisingly painful decision.

from l to r: oblivious cheesing for photo, you’re killing my dog, YOU’RE KILLING MY DOG, sad but i’ll smile, thinks max is just sleeping somewhere else not “going to sleep”. jeremy was all “WHY ARE YOU MAKING THEM POSE FOR A PHOTO???” but, well, because?

i say "surprising" because it really caught me off guard. max was an awesome dog in many ways--incredible with the kids, very protective of the home, the kind of dog we could leave home while we went to the beach all day and she'd be waiting happily when we got home--no 'accidents', nothing chewed or destroyed.

when i tell you she was good with kids—i trained that dog to not touch ANYONE’S food. i have a huge pet peeve with dogs that grab food from a small child’s hands. like, HUGE pet peeve. like, it makes me skull crushing furious.
one day someone left a half finished waffle on the floor in the kitchen. i walked in just as max picked it up and headed out to snack. she stopped, baaaccccked slowly up, gently set the waffle back down on the floor, and slunk away. nothing to see here, i was most definitely NOT taking this waffle.

but...max had issues, too. she was very animal aggressive--if it was furry, she wanted to kill it. cat, dog, squirrel, mailman. you get the drift. and over the years there's been a few incidents, a few vet bills paid by us...pretty stressful.
a month ago guinevere opened the front door to take out the garbage just as the mailman came. no warning, no growl, no bark—max pushed past her and chased the mailman off the porch and bit his hand. badly.
fortunately for us he was completely awesome about it. what could have been absolutely terrible was only mildly terrible. what could have cost us thousands only cost us a 6-pack and some chocolate pretzels (is there a standard “sorry my dog tried to eat you” gift?)

max was getting old, and needed another surgery, and was losing her hearing and sight—but not her formidable strength. so a week later when i got up in the middle of the night and she barked at me because she didn’t recognize me…well, that was literally another nail in her coffin.

whether purposefully or not, she was becoming a danger to our family.

i thought i was sick of it. i thought i was counting down the days for max, so i could say goodbye to a pretty big stressor in our lives. i know—it sounds heartless and terrible, but when you have a dog that’s kind of a ticking timebomb and you live on a street with a great big field that half the neighborhood brings their dogs to so there’s constantly random dogs running up to your fence, etc….well, yeah.
my dog isn’t my “baby”, i’m not it’s “mommy”. i have 5 human children who call me mommy, this is a pet, and it’s lifespan is shorter than yours, so it dies and you get a new one. right? right.
i’m so tough. and logical. and tough.

except, i’m not. when it came time...well, let's just say i didn't handle it so well.

not. at. all.

we made an appointment, and cancelled it. we debated for 3 more weeks, and then picked a day. we took max to the SPCA, and i thought i was holding it together. then they started asking me things like how long have you had max? how old is max? please sign this paper that says we’re killing your dog thankyouverymuch.
and i was like WHO CARES WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME SAY THESE THINGS ARRRRGGGHHH.

then we brought her in, and the lady took her and asked if we wanted the leash and collar back, and…. that was it.

jeremy and i went outside to the bench, where i cried like a baby and he tried not to throw up.

we were basically a family of hawt crying messes, and i'll own up to being the worst. i spent 2 solid days saying things like "look at the sun shining on the hill. max would have loved to lay up there on her hillllll..bfflghtlshhhh....whahhhhhh".

you get the drift.

so instead of waiting a month or so before adding to our family like we initially planned, we made the executive decision to add promptly.

find the puppy.

we found macallister (mac) through a rescue, he came from a kill shelter down south.

we knew we wanted to do a rescue dog this time, and because supposedly *I* “picked” sonny, jeremy said this was his pick. //eyeroll// hehehe

we filled out a few applications online. i’ll be honest—some of these are kind of nuts. i perfectly understand the desire of these people to make sure the dogs are going to good, safe, loving homes. but one of them actually asked “Do you have a plan in place to ensure proper care of your pet in case you are injured or are in some way unable to properly care for your pet?”

and i was all…umm, i don’t even have a will for my CHILDREN.

how about this: we WILL neuter. we will NOT enter him in a dog fighting ring. we WILL get his shots. we WILL feed him and love him, and snuggle him and pet him until he can’t stand it anymore. we will NOT dock his ears or clip his tail. mmmkay?
when we finally stumbled across mac, and talked to cris it all fell into place. she loves her dogs, she wants them to go to good homes, but she’s not insane about it. she talked to our vet, she got a couple references, we went to visit them and introduce the kids and sonny to him, she came and checked out our house when she dropped him off. and we had a new puppy. 

do you know how hard it is to take a good photo of a camouflaged dog?

he's a plott hound mix, which we'd never heard of until we started looking at rescues. that’s what gives him his beautiful brindle coloring. it's been a week since he came home to us, and he's a solid 27 pounds of squishy love with giant paws and soft fur and that puppy head cock that’s all “Huh? I’m listening!”

we debated names for a while…macallister was our middle name if elliot had been a boy, and we both super love the name. but…mac? too close to max? orrrrrr a nice tribute to max, and a way of not cringing every time we accidentally call him max over the next few weeks? yup, dumb like a fox ;)
you’re all “MAAAAAXXxxshCK”. no harm, no foul.

he and sonny have bonded and it's nonstop playing-sleeping-eating in a cycle all day, erry day around here.

now if he could just teach sonny to stop pooping in the house (stupid chihuahua), he'd be perfect.

that and maybe mac could stop peeing on my unfinished quilt. >:( grrrrrrr.

you know...my quilt that i've been working on for months and am not done quilting yet and thus can not WASH until i FINISH, so i'm now quilting this stinky wet KING SIZE quilt that he searches out and pees on at least once a day!??!?!?! i'm not really sure why he either hates or loves this thing so much. clearly it's one or the other, i'm just not sure which…

can anyone lend me a baby?

in a few weeks, my oldest will turn 14. and my youngest will turn 3.
three.
i’ve come to terms with the 14…she’s growing, she’s a teenager. i have accepted that i am the mother of a teenager, and in a short while i will be the mother of many teenagers.

what i’m having a bit more trouble coming to terms with is that i’m no longer the mother of babies.

elliot, january 2012

this is no secret, i’ve talked about my troubles leaving this phase of life before. but now…it’s here. for someone who’s gone through the last 14+ years feeling like there would be no end to the “baby phase”, this is rather…off-putting.

gigi, june 2010

it’s a mental and emotional change—rewiring our parenting minds from things like sleep and potty training to, well…big kid stuff.
it’s a physical change—less stuff to lug, less people to carry, less physical effort in general involved.
and i’m finding that it’s also a literal change to our home.  i’m giving away/throwing away/donating actual physical THINGS that say “there’s a baby in this house!”

elliot

hooded ducky towels that don’t even cover the wet bottoms anymore, let alone wrap an entire body.

random tiny socks, smaller than my hand, lost and stuck in hidden corners

the last nursing bra shoved in the back of my drawer

one last partially used package of diapers

sippy cups (with their stupid stupid perpetually lost valves)

touch and feel books…i love those fuzzy lion manes and sticky frog feet more than my babies i think

and every time i load the dishwasher and make the choice to throw away that one random baby spoon somebody found in the back of the drawer and used for cereal because all the other spoons were dirty…it hurts.

elliot, summer 2012

it’s not the thing that hurts—the actual item going into the trash.if anything there’s almost a sense of relief associated with that—getting rid of clutter is one of my favorite pasttimes. no…it’s the loss of the “there’s a baby in this house!”, and then all the other things that that means i’m losing…

soft and slightly sour milk breath

gummy smiles

open mouth slobber kisses

chest to chest naps

milk drunk babies nursing the air

those first drunken wobbly steps

dimples on chubby knuckles, and wrists, and feet and…everywhere.

that squishy crinkly sound it makes when they walk with a diaper on

our house has no more pairs of those Sweet Pea bag-style jammies…i always loved them for easy nighttime diaper changes. and painfully, our house has no more baby talk. elliot has been an amazing talker from the get-go, but in the past few weeks she’s just taken off. words are pronouced correctly—not in that garbled way that’s music to a momma’s ears.

elliot, october 2012

words have become sentences and they in turn have become entire paragraphs and stories. she just said to me “these are my favorite shoes. i love them. i can put them on. but i need you to buckle them.”

those first giant steps

i know i could bookend this post with thoughts on all the fun yet to come. the new things we can do since we don’t have babies dragging us down anymore (ha!). but that’s not where i am this rainy morning. right now i just finished folding a load of towels, and obstinately put those last faded, torn hooded towels back in the clean basket. i’ll go kicking and screaming.

the best i can right now is maybe think of some things i won’t miss.

baby proofing (who am i kidding…i barely did any…)

passing clothes on, instead of packing them away for little siblings (ugh, that takes FOR-EH-VER)

giant pieces of baby “equipment” in every corner of the house (jumper, exersaucer, swing, car seat, crib…it goes on and on…)

annnd that’s about it.

i suppose i could say things like “oh i can sleep through the night”, but that was never a huge deal to me. right now i’m wearing those rose-colored glasses which are the root cause of things like “second babies”. 

in a way i hope i never lose this longing for babies. i’m thinking maybe i’ll be the awesomest grandmother ever? i think so. i just have to bide my time in this space of babyless-ness. where i do things like sleep. and cruise. yeah, i think i’ll be okay.

all the things. in one post.

o1) contests, i just don’t know how to quit you. picture me right now doing the beauty pageant hyperventilating hands-on-mouth I CAN’T BELIEVE IT squeal, because i’m in season 9 of project run and play.


for those who don’t know (gasp! how?) it’s only my favorite online sewing competition EV-AH. for realsies. 6 “designers”, 4 weeks, fight to the finish. hopefully the cornucopia is full of japanese cutting shears and high end machines, because i require the best. :/
anyway, there’s a theme for each week, and my brain has been churning since i was asked to be a part of the contest a couple months ago. i’ve been counting down the days and now it’s really happening and i’m all pukey-excited. the actual competition doesn’t start until next month, but for me the sewing begins STAT. i haven’t really sewn in a couple of months now, and there’s a LOT of pent up sewing energy stored in me.
i’m also going up against 4 awesome seamstresses. some i already ‘knew’, others i’m just discovering. and i’m feeling there’s a super big chance i’ll be the first one thrown off the island. or shot with an arrow, whatever competition metaphor floats your fancy. but i’m going to try my hardest to have a blast with this no matter what.

let the games begin.

(you thought i was gonna say let the odds be ever in your favor, right? heh.)

o2) we bought a dog. or, another dog i guess i should say. thing is: i am a hardcore believer in rescues. also, i am cheap as all get out and the thought of spending ooh-gobs of money on an animal makes me throw up in my mouth a little. oh, and i like big, BIG dogs.

well here i am with my tail between my legs. i bought a dog, from a pet store, who is AKC registered and i can trace his lineage back 4 generations. and i paid ooh-gobs of money. and he’s 2.5 lbs.



but that face. THAT FACE. he’s a chihuahua (in case that’s not glaringly obvious) and his name is Santino Burrito. and if you could trill your ‘r’ that’d be great.
he’s technically for gigi, the child who would gladly give up 3 of her 4 limbs to own a cat. but the googiedaddy is prejudiced against things that poop in the house, and i’m prejudiced against things that make me not able to breath. so we found the most catlike dog we could.

o3) i’m seriously lost when it comes to things like SEO and pageviews and stuff. but once in a while i poke around in google analytics for giggles. here is a list of search terms people use that lead them to googiemomma.blogspot.com.



refashioning, sewing, crocheting…all your basics WAIT WHAT?

boobs. on a shelf.

well. i…why? nevermind. i don’t want to know.

o4) the sickies: ava had a foot checkup. insert thumbs up here. doc says all good, no need for casting for a while. picture me doing the dance of joy. yes, like balki.


GIFSoup
i'm so old.

gigi had a blood test which placed her platelets at 770,000. a mere TWO TIMES NORMAL. umm, ok. doc says all good—means her bone marrow has been working like gang busters to catch up, and the immune system has probably stopped killing off platelets so now it’s overcompensating. like peddling a bike really hard up a hill, then you hit the top and start going down but you’re still peddling really hard for a minute until you realize WHOA i made it!
so…a more cautious dance of joy, because she’s still having mild spells of petechiae and occasional bruises that make us go on high alert. nothing warranting a run to the ER, but concerning…

o5) i’m working now. well, i mean like outside of the home. and, not just for the family business. okay—i’m working more. ha. i got a little gig waiting tables at lunch at the local pizza place we frequent. i actually really enjoy it, and i’m making decent money (FABRIC FUNDZZZ.) for doing about 9 hours a week. only problem is i’m finding sewing time a bit harder to come by. and blogging time. oh yeah and cleaning the house time. yesss…that’s why it’s not clean. ;)
but i’ve still got a back log of things i never blogged, and with point #1 on the horizon you can be sure i’m finding sewing/blogging time in the next few weeks! even if i have to cut out something major. like sleep. nah, i need my sleep. sorry kids—it’s pb & j breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next few weeks.

course correction.

i don’t set resolutions based on new year’s. i feel like i’m a person in a constant state of flux—the best time to begin something new or make a change is immediately after thinking it over and making the decision in your head. DO IT. right now.
i guess on it’s face that can translate out as slightly ADD tendencies: i think of something, i mull it over, i start. sometimes that process takes minutes, sometimes days.
but i’m easily bored and—these days—extremely forgetful, so if i don’t get going immediately chances are it won’t happen.

what was i talking about?

oh. so i had a big thought, and i’m acting on it. thing is, i haven’t been feeling like the greatest momma lately. life, tired, stressed, sicknesses, sewing, cooking, cleaning, blogging, working…blah blah blah. bottom line it: too much, and my babies were getting the short end of the stick.

they were getting meals, and baths, and clean laundry. they weren’t getting tickles, and songs, and silly faces. they didn’t have mommy just sitting on the couch sans phone/project taking up the place in my lap where they should be. there was a lack of tower building, game playing, picture drawing. too much time in front of the tv. too much.

every evening i crawled into my bed—i need “me” time, even if that trite phrase isn’t how i put it in my head. i didn’t want to be mommy anymore—no more questions, no more Solomon like decision making, no more barking out orders. my kids were left to their own devices so i could clear my head with some crocheting and telephonernetting.

there’s nothing wrong with that—every mommy needs her time and space. it makes for a better mommy. but i was becoming a selfish mommy. i did the things i HAD to do. the things that keep our family alive and relatively functional, meanwhile retreating further and further away from being a Momma who’s there and present and engaged. i realized i was not even LOOKING at my children. conversations were happening while my eyes and 50% of my attention was focused elsewhere. that is huge, because looking someone in the eye is a mark of respect as far as i’m concerned. and as much as they need to respect me as a parent, i need to respect them as people. i was failing miserably.

i was mothering just enough to begin to hate mothering. i’m doing all the grunt work, without taking the time to enjoy all the rewarding stuff. it was twisted up in my brain—do the hard stuff and my reward was alone time, instead of my reward being pleasant times with my children.

and it shows in them, too. picking at each other, fighting…a general feeling of annoyance in our home. it was me thinking about all that—how we got to this place where there was shouting and fighting so much when they used to get along and cooperate so well—that brought me to my senses. the fact is they’re confused. with so much time spent parenting themselves and each other the lines between sibling relationships were become blurred and lost. everyone has their place in the home, and i was neglecting mine, leaving a large hole that my children kept tripping in.

i’m not perfect. obviously. but i’ve been thinking—hard—about what is happening in my life and my home and my family right now. i feel like there is a giant clock ticking over my shoulder. i suppose it’s along the lines of a woman’s biological clock—once the children have come it starts counting down the hours and days you have to perfect this parenting gig.

tick tick tick you have a 13 year old daughter. have you taught her the important things about womanhood that she needs to know? are you giving her  a good self-image? is she learning the life skills she’ll need to thrive? does she have a relationship with her father that’s strong enough to keep her from seeking out the creepy boys and men that prey on girls with daddy issues?

tick tock tick tock you have an 11 year old son. have you built up your relationship with him to a good enough place that you’re ready to face the coming trials of tween/teen-agehood? is he learning the skills and lessons to become a good man, husband, father someday? is he learning from you the right way to treat women, to eat dinner (not like a cow), to hold the door open for people?

tick tick tick you have a 9 year old daughter. she is the middle child and feels her divided place strongly. sometimes she’s grouped with the older siblings, sometimes with the younger. she needs more attention, more understanding, more patience. are you doing that? or are you pushing her away because she’s clingy and you’re crushing candy? how much will you regret that decision when she’s 15 and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore?

tick tock tick tock you have a five year old daughter. she’s spunky and friendly and if there’s anyone who will run off with a stranger to help them find their puppy it’s HER. have you taught her enough? she’s going to kindergarten in 8 months and wants to learn so badly. you promised to do “home preschool” with her and the supplies have sat unused for months. why?

tick tick tick you have a 2 year old daughter. this morning you sang twinkle twinkle with her in bed and couldn’t remember the last time you did that. or read a book together. she sang her ABC’s to you and you knew you weren’t the one responsible for teaching her that. she’s asking where “ava-mommy” is. did you color together today?

my clock is ticking—loudly and harshly. fortunately it’s also an alarm clock. i’ve pushed snooze one too many times and it’s time for me to wake up. i get one shot at this parenting thing, and i’m not going to do it perfectly, but i can certainly do better than i am now.

so i’ve been absent from here. no blogging, no blog reading, no less hours spent wasted on googling such vital things as “subway tile with gray grout images”. i’ve put down my phone and done less instagraming, less texting, less stupid stupid game playing. i’m trying to find a new balance—one that let’s me do the grunt work, enjoy the rewarding children time, and still have the husband and wife time and the just shannon time. dude. that’s not an easy task.

so please excuse the dust while my life is under renovation.

party time. excellent.

as i lay in my cell phone-lit room last night pondering various metaphors to begin this post, i struck upon one that seems fairly obvious. but it fits, so here goes.
it’s like a storm. you see the big black thunderheads off in the distance, but first you’re optimistic—cocky even. pshaw. that’s gonna pass us right by. good westerly wind will blow it right on past.

but it doesn’t work that way—the clouds continue to build and drift menacingly closer and before you know it drops of rain are hitting your shoulders and you’re still thinking it’s okay. really. we’re going to be okay because this will be quick and you know what? in a way it’s almost good. we can use the rain.

it doesn’t much matter what kind of face you put on it though. in the end it’s going to happen just like you knew it would from the first sign of inclement weather. so when it’s like threat level magenta or something and panic mode hits and you’re running for shelter (and now i’m mixing metaphors but it’s okay because IT’S THAT BAD) the last thing you can think is we’ll all be alright in the end. we can make it through because we have plenty of canned food and a good clean up team.

here it comes people. and i hope you’re ready.

it’s like a tornado. no. it’s like wildfire combined with a tornado. not good enough.  make that a wildfire enhanced sharknado, because when you have five kids and the first one cries “my belly hurts” you kinda feel like the lady spying the thunderheads.

then that one starts hurling and you’re all hey. we can do this. you’re still not so sleep-deprived that you can’t joke with your significant other in the middle of the night. babe, if you’re gonna spew, spew in this. ::gigglesnort::
you’re awesome, you got this, changing sheets and doing laundry and running baths at 3 am is kind of exhilirating in a deep-in-the-trenches-of-parenthood-these-are-the-moments-that-make-up-our-lives sort of way.

but by the end of it you’re creeping cautiously from your shelter, blinking in the sunlight and whispering it’s alright. we have plenty of canned food and a good cleanup team.

we were hit hard two years ago, and i waxed poetically about it then. but last year we were spared and i should have known—the odds were certainly NOT in our favor for this year.

one down, four to go.
errr….i’m sorry. update. make that two down, three to go. wildfire sharknado, people.
i find myself pondering such brain benders as how old should a child be to have to dump and rinse their own puke bucket without you being a Bad Mommy? because i gotta tell ya, about 5 is my limit. ::heave, heave::

and not to be completely disgusting…okay, yes sorry i’m about keeping it real. so to be completely disgusting and because my husband and i came of age in the 90’s we think we’re terribly funny when we say, dude. she didn’t throw up. she blew chunks. because yeah, that’s exactly what elliot did. and once you know the difference you KNOW the difference.

and elliot—who shall henceforth be known as Patient Zero, lay there listening she looked up at me with ruddy cheeks and glassy eyes and said…

chunks.

yes, elliot. chunks.

mommy. chunk is not yummy. chunks is stinky.

you’re absolutely right elliot. now can someone pass me the can opener.

vacation: all i ever wanted.

well, it’s over.

weeks of preparation: packing, sewing, cleaning and cleaning and cleaning, organizing, cooking, shopping…all done.

if you follow me on instagram you’ll know what we’ve been up to. back-to-back trips-- two weeks ago we left for our annual family trip to cape cod. saturday to thursday spent in a lakeside house with grandparents and uncles and aunt and friends.

this is SOOC—no filters at all. amazing, right?

all the usual fun—huge meals, lobster dinners, gorgeous sunsets, fishing off the dock, mini golf and batting cages. it’s quality family time snuggling up with our babies. and laughing. lots and lots of laughing.

and then one night at dinner our kiddos surprised us with an early anniversary gift. they went online (storybird) and wrote a book for us. they ordered it with help from the grandparents and paid for it with their allowances.

we had absolutely no idea.

so when we opened the little package that they had wrapped up and started reading this “Story of US”, well…it was a serious ugly cry.

i honestly can’t remember the last time i cried like that. it seems like maybe? possibly? we’re doing something right? i hope. i do know that this will be something that’s treasured forever.

i can’t even write this now without tearing up. 

::deep breath::

okay so…we came home on thursday and spent friday and saturday in a mad dash of repacking, food shopping, dinner freezing, and yes—last minute sewing. because that next sunday we left for our 15th ANNIVERSARY CRUISE! three other couples joined us in celebrating anniversaries. between all of us there was 57 years of marriage and  14 children left behind with grandparents and aunts and uncles—for pretty much the first time.

jeremy + i haven’t left our kids for more than one night since we had them. and considering guinevere was born after 1.5 years of marriage…well, i’d say it was long overdue.

a one week cruise from bayonne, NJ to sunny bermuda and back again—just what the doctor ordered for all of us.

warwick bay beach

it was gorgeous. we snorkled and swam and relaxed. there was an incredible amount of food eaten. and i laughed so hard i think it counted as an ab workout.

tobacco bay beach – awesome snorkeling. until i came face to face with a moray eel. (insert mental image of me frantically splashing and screaming “EEEEEEEL” through my snorkel)

we had goals for this trip, and i think we checked off every one.

formal night. some hot mommas and handsome fellas ;) who were made to put roses in their mouths by the photographer.

1) to refer to each other as “shannon” and “jeremy”, not “mommy” and “daddy”.
2) to not cut up anyone’s food but our own at the dinner table.
3) in line with #2, to not wipe anyone’s bottom but our own in the bathroom.
4) to not worry about the time or look at a clock, except as far as to determine when the next onboard show was.
5) to sleep whenever we wanted, for however long we wanted.
6) to not wear the “mom uniform”, but to fix my hair and put on my makeup and wear cute stuff—even to breakfast.

check mark on all of those. they were 100% accomplished. and yesterday morning we were excited to see our babies, but very very very sad it was over.

all four couples have been instagramming and texting back and forth things along the lines of “i ordered a coffee and ice water, and no one brought it to me!” or “would you believe there’s no chocolate sensation in my refrigerator!?!?”

it’s been a rough return to reality. if my stinking house would just stop swaying back and forth i may be able to accomplish something. ;) now if you’ll excuse me, i’m off to snuggle my googies a little more.

so long and thanks for all the chews.

so on friday i had my wisdom teeth out. yeah, i know—you’re supposed to have that done when you’re a teen.

but my teeth weren’t a problem until i started having babies. then they came in one by one. every pregnancy was another wisdom tooth, another cavity. boo.
the bottom 2 impacted, the top 2 in but sooo far back that i couldn’t brush them. it was a huge cavity in the top left guy that finally forced me to make the appointment.

so off we went to the oral surgeon—me hopped up on a valium + laughing gas + whatever it was they put in the IV. i thought everrrrrything was soooo funny.  BUT…i was awake and aware of everything happening. and about halfway through the procedure i was no longer laughing. i was still very relaxed, but also wide awake. i wanted to tell the doc, but that’s a little difficult when your mouth has that metal…uhh…mouth speculum thing in it? so i started singing along to the piped in music, hoping that would give him a clue.

“oh, are you singing?” he laughed at me. okay, well that didn’t work. apparently singing isn’t too unusual. but whatever. i guess there was enough meds that i wasn’t too worked up.

by the time they moved me to the recovery area and brought jeremy in i was wide awake and fine. packed full of gauze but trying to talk because, well, i’m an idiot? and then trying to explain to the receptionist that no i didn’t owe her $90, i only owed $26 and pulling up my EOB on my phone to show her. with a numb face and mouth full of gauze.

type-A personality, anyone? hope i didn’t drool on her shoulder.

so because i’m a special snowflake my bottom two teeth gave the doc a run for his money. he said they were the worst he’s had all summer. stupid 33 year old teeth were quite settled in and didn’t was to leave. he gave me some meds in the IV for swelling, and a script for more swelling reducing medication, in addition to a powerful pain med and antibiotic. sheesh.

me + pain meds? nope. puke city. so i switched quickly to just ibuprofen and ice (pea) packs, and that’s where i’ve been since.

i spent the weekend crocheting, candy crushing, movie watching gumming crackers and mashed potatoes and I’M ALL DONE NOW.

but the doc warned me that the swelling would continue to increase through monday because of how nasty those bottom 2 teeth were. i hadn’t noticed a huge difference this morning from yesterday…then i realized that i have to push my cheeks out of the way to close my mouth or i would bite down on them. huh. i guess the swelling moved inside.

so here i am, hubby back to work, kids of school-age schooling, and the little two Just Dance-ing. i’m ready to throw down a handfull of pills that are supposed to make me better, and then i’m off to find something to gum for breakfast.

mashed potatoes and eggs, anyone?

the red hair is from my mom, the metabolism is from my dad. thanks, genetics.

when ava was a month old i took her in to our doctor for a checkup. since i was there and he was our family doctor (albeit a new one, having just bought the practice from our old doctor), i told him i was fairly certain i had a breast infection.
he asked how i knew. i was used to my midwives—they trust me, they know me. i say i have mastitis, they say we’ll call in your prescription.
so i told him—fever, flu-like symptoms, oh and this hot red spot on my right breast right here. cue nonchalant unveiling of boobage.

took him a little by surprise.

i got my script right quick.

i’m telling you this story to explain how i feel about doctors: they’re doctors. i don’t get worked up over exposing various body parts to them. that’s their job. you want to judge my body? i don’t seriously think you are, but whatever. professional courtesy demands you keep a straight face when i’m sitting on your paper covered table. pap smears, routine exams—par for the course. i’m no exhibitionist, but the fact is to keep yourself healthy is going to require the harsh florescent lighting of an office exam room shining on parts of you that you may normally keep wrapped up.

and generally-- i’m okay with that.

2 weeks ago i had an appointment with an endocrinologist. it was the first time i’d seen one, and i was nervously optomistic that maybe this would help provide answers to the weird things my body has been doing for the last two years.

he was a nice guy—we joked, he was compassionate. he assured me that he would do what he could to get me feeling better. he took my blood pressure, checked various body parts…

 and then. then there was this awkward thing. he asked me to stand up—he needed to check my stomach briefly. i didn’t fully understand, i thought he wanted to feel my stomach. turns out he wanted to see my stomach.

i was wearing a maxi dress.

it turned into this unbelievably uncomfortable moment of him starting to lift my skirt because i was just standing there waiting, then me thinking he wanted to feel my stomach hand-to-skin, so me lifting it a bit higher so he could reach under, then him lifting it even higher because i still wasn’t getting that he needed to actually see my stomach.

let me be clear: i don’t blame the doctor, i’m not angry at him. and he definitely seemed embarrassed. it was just a comical set of events that went wrong.

but.

i was humiliated.

i don’t say that lightly. i could feel my face burning as i sat back down, and i avoided his eyes for the next few questions. because for all my big talk about not caring about doctors seeing my body—i completely and totally hate the way my stomach looks.

::record scratch:: wait, what? am i allowed to say that? listen—i’ve heard the speeches, read the blog posts, looked at the websites. i’ve called my stretch marks my “tiger stripes”, my badges of motherhood. the saggy skin i try to—if not love—at least embrace as remnants of bringing my five beautiful children into the world. and my husband loves me the way i am—never once has he made me feel anything less than completely beautiful by both his words and actions.

but it doesn’t work. the sagging skin and stretch marks, the fat i can’t seem to shake from the last two pregnancies—i hate it. hate. it. it flies in the face of all the self affirmations we see and read. the praise princess kate got for “embracing” her post-pregnancy body was huge news. and to a certain extent it’s true—a woman less than 48 hours post-partum should never have to justify what her body looks like.

but what about when you’re like…24 months post partum? do the same rules apply?

i understand it all: my stomach was stretched almost to bursting and then deflated five separate times. and i thank my body for the ability to do that. my self image isn’t so poor that i look at tabloid pictures in supermarket checkout lines of stars flaunting flat bellies and 6 pack abs 15 minutes after giving birth and think “whaaaaa why don’t i look like that???” i know it’s totally unrealistic—and frankly, ridiculous--not at all what my goal would ever be. and the truth is i need to lose weight—both for health reasons and self-image reasons. i have been battling that for years now, and i firmly believe the difficulty i’m having with weight loss is connected to whatever else is going on with my body.

unfortunately in the cold light of day, or the harsh light of a fitting room…all that doesn’t really help.

but.

there are bigger forces at play here: i am a mother of four daughters.

deep breath.

teaching them to be good, kind, industrious, thrifty, creative, giving, spiritual, intelligent women..some days i just don’t feel equivalent to the task. some days it’s just overwhelming and i think there’s no way i can do all i need to do. my girls range from 13 to 2. we have pimples to potty training, algebra to animal sounds, braces to blocks.

my brain sometimes doesn’t have the power it needs to make the mental leaps from one to the other every few minutes—or seconds. so as parents we sometimes have to pick and choose—the hills on which we plant our flags and refuse to move. i’ll stick to this principle or by god i’ll die trying.

so it goes for me and body image: model what you want your daughters to see. be the woman you want them to become. and i’m not claiming i do it all right: i know i’ve complained about my body in their hearing. i know i’ve used less than flattering terms to describe other people. but i am harshly conscious of never using the term “diet” in front of them. i tell them i’m going to the gym. i’m exercising because it’s important for health. i stress good eating—eat your veggies and fruits, stop eating when you’re full, you don’t have to clear your plate but you do have to taste everything once. i tell them they’re beautiful people, inside and out. but i never tell them they’re chubby (okay, except for elliot. she’s my chunky monkey. but i don’t think it really counts when they’re babies)

they seem to have all been awarded their father’s metabolism thus far, which i hope works to their favor. i hope that i can instill in them an appreciation for their wonderful god-given bodies that helps them never fall victim to the self-loathing, the eating disorders, even the lingering dissatisfaction.

they’re smart though, you know? it can’t be “do as i say, not as i do” because they’ll see through that in a hot second. so the appreciation for your body? the viewing it with love instead of hatred? has to start here. with me. with us.

and as a general rule we women tend to focus so much on our flaws that we can’t see the breath-taking beauty of the forest for the focusing on one little scarred tree. we miss the beauty we’re exuding—each and every one of us—to complain about our thick ankles or our flabby flying squirrel arms or yes, our flabby stretched out bellies. my stomach is only one part of me—literally, and figuratively. it doesn’t define me, and i’m sure it’s not the first thing people see when they look at me.

and yes—we can focus on our good sense of humor, or our generosity, or our talent for cooking or sewing. but we—as a sex—need to step back and look at ourselves in the mirror. and then instead of seeing all the flaws, see the beauty—the gorgeous deep brown eyes, the pouty lips that make your man melt, the graceful hands or whoa hey now legs. because we ALL have it. we just don’t want to or can’t see it.

so here goes. i’ll start, as long as you promise to join in. i don’t care if you leave your name or a pseudonym or just go totally anonymous.  but tell me: WHAT IS GORGEOUS ON YOU?

me? yeah, i’ve got killer red hair. i have really pretty shaped fingernails. and, let’s face it: some nice legs.

no qualifications, no “i’ve-been-tolds” or “my husband says”. this is what i know.

your turn.