I had a challenge the other day. I was told to choose 10 goals to help become my best self. But it gets better. I couldn’t say ‘I will’. I had to say ‘I am’. Because I will becomes a to do list. I am forces you to make steps toward that goal and I love it! It’s hard though. It forces you to look at your life in long term goals.
My Number 1: I am HELLA strong!
My number 10: I am FEARLESS!
She is dang cute, though.
Like every other mom, life gets so busy. I’ve been missing my writing, both fiction and non-fiction. A day goes by so fast, specially with a very hyper toddler. Even as I type this, my daughter is waking up from a nap extremely fussy and when I tried to calm her down and hold her, she pushed me away and yelled, “No.”
*sigh*
Kids are tiring. She finally calmed after some convincing and some eventual cuddling. I know my struggle isn’t uncommon. Almost every mom wants to work out, eat well, work a job, and still manage to still be a good mom. It’s hard. Really hard. Plus I want some time for me. Maybe have a hobby. Do something that doesn’t revolve around my kid. Maybe a little selfish but trying to find a balance between mom life, work life, and my life is challenging. At two, family activities are even still limited. I hope to find some activities we can do together once she hits 3 but at 2, options are very limited. Rock climbing starts at 3 which she will really like. But for now, I want to find something that’s work, cleaning the house, or watching kid’s movies with my little one.
I’m on week two of working out 6 days a week. Nothing major but it’s a half hour a day and since my day starts at 3 AM so I have time to work out before I head my nanny job, it feels like a lot. On top of that comes better food choices. Over the weekend, I drank beer and ate fries and then had two days of recovery because I’m old and that affects me way more than it should. But today, I step back onto the bandwagon. I worked out this morning again after taking Monday off. I am enjoying some banana bread (gluten free) which is a lot of carbs but I also like to enjoy my life.
I go to bed at 8 PM so I’d like to find time on a daily basis for writing whether for my blog or for my actual story. Something to keep myself thinking, something to keep myself challenged on a daily basis. I’d like to update the blog on my different recipes and work out challenges and successes and failures. A personal journal for myself and something for someone else to read and hopefully enjoy.
Always,
Winter
Yesterday was a good day. It was a normal day with my active angel but diet wise, I made good decisions. I went to out for lunch and had a salad with olive oil and didn’t even eat any of my daughter’s fries. I even chose a glass of wine over a beer which admittedly causes me pain because you get so much more beer for so much less money but I really am trying to make positive changes for myself and every time, I make a bad one I feel like I am take a step back. I firmly believe that you need to treat yourself occasionally, but I’m still getting my diet on track. It’s not as simple as once in a while having a beer. I have to 100% not have beer so I can get to the point where I occasionally can get away with having a beer.
For now though, there’s no middle ground for me. Same with dairy and sugar. I have to lose my taste/craving for it so that when I do imbibe, it’s amazing but short term. My coffee is not as good with coconut milk but I will march on.
Oh, and you know what! Coconut milk only has 4 grams of fat per 1/3 cup. Which means that it’s really, really watered down. Now I am referring to the coconut milk in the carton. The canned coconut milk has 12 grams. I really liked my no breakfast, high fat coffee every morning so it’s back to the drawing board for coffee. I do have cacao butter and coconut oil but I was really enjoying not having to get out my blender every morning. So I’ll have to decide where the balance will be. I have a little personal blender that’s really nice to use but as you know, it’s another thing to clean. I’ll update what I decide too. I may go back to a dairy-free Rocket Fuel Latte. Which is very good but a little more work.
In my search to find that recipe, I found a dairy free eggnog recipe. I’m going to need to try that. Since I have my own chickens, I feel pretty safe rocking the whole raw egg thing.
Last note: I bought my daughter ice skates yesterday. I’m told that as long as they can walk in them, they can learn how to ice skate. I’m hoping to have her practice this fall and go ice skating this winter. She’s so energetic and I’d love to find her an activity that 
involved us both and wasn’t just playing out in the snow. Plus my girlfriend is a former figure skater, now hockey player so she’s really hoping Liz has some interest in ice skating. Apparently there are some great opportunities for female hockey players.
Always,
Winter song
That was my day today. I mostly slept in, other than waking up and convincing a toddler to go back to sleep in my bed so I could sleep longer. She acquiesced. Then I just grocery shopped and meal prepped. While drinking some very cheap, very delicious Aldi’s wine. I made three recipes but have only tasted one so far. The rest are in bags in the freezer, ready to be thrown in a crock pot in the morning.
I made No Bean Pumpkin Chili. Sounds weird but it’s awesome. And keto. And dairy free, which are two things I am really working on right now. I also made hamburger soup and a chicken recipe but I’ll wait on giving links and thoughts until after I give them a try. 
Chili based recipes are always challenging for me because of my corn allergy, I am not able to have citric acid which is in almost all canned diced tomatoes. Instead, I’ve found a boxed (over priced) diced tomato that Meijer sells. It’s very good but it’s also a struggle to buys something that’s twice the price of all the other ones.
The good news is even though I have to struggle with my own stuff, it looks like my daughter is not allergic to corn. My heart is soaring. I was able to let her have some candy at a trunk or treat. Like the other kids. It was amazing. I want her to be the healthiest she can be but I also want her to be a human being. So I was able to let her go to town on the suckers and the tootsie rolls.
I look forward to letting my daughter actually enjoy Halloween and trick or treating with her like I did with my parents. But tonight, I look forward to a few more glasses of wine and leftover chili.
Always,
Winter Song
Yesterday was not a good diet day. I was tired, so tired. On Wednesday night I got to leave my monster (translated: toddler) with my mom and head out to a wine and painting party and boy, did I wine. So yesterday, I was tired and dealing with a headache from Hades. No stomach stuff, just a headache. So I ate my kid’s gummy bears, snacked on her bean chips, and finished off her chocolate bar. The only thing I did do right yesterday is that it was a dairy free day. Days like yesterday usually start to get me discouraged but I really want to stop that attitude. I want to just take yesterday for what it was which was a lazy, junk food day and start today back to normal. Often a heavy carb, high sugar day sends me into a binge of carbs for like a week. 
So today, we are more back to normal. I am still finishing up my heavy whipping cream but otherwise making dairy free options. I still need to come up with a dessert that is both dairy free and low carb. Probably doesn’t exist but I have some ideas. I will definitely post anything I find and let you know how it turns out. I sometimes wish I didn’t have to work so hard for good options but the other day, I washed my daughter’s hair and already her terrible eczema on her head is getting better and her diapers are getting less and less runny. I remember how hard and out of control my eczema was growing up and the last thing I want my daughter dealing with is that. With Halloween coming up, I’m going to need to get creative too which I’ll talk about in an upcoming blog.
Always,
Winter Song
I have not blogged since just after my daughter, Little Fox, was born. Obviously priorities change and I wasn’t that good at it before having a wild child. But I’ve recently been wanting to change my priorities around again and although, my daughter will still be at the top, I want to start taking intentional time for myself every day. Nothing major but if the only thing I do is entertain a kid and clean and cook, and maybe do some laundry, I start to feel a little resentful toward a kid that messes up my clean house and a husband who doesn’t understand how much I actually accomplish on a daily basis.
I’ve also had some weight that’s hanging around my middle that I’d like to get rid of. I eat fairly healthy but I have enough not so good things that it just won’t budge. Part of that is working from home and not being very successful at it. It’s stressful and is taking up much of my usual catching up with the house time. Once the current project I’m doing is complete, I’ve decided that instead I want to spend that time on exercise, meal planning, and cleaning. I’ve found myself frustrated at my child for being a child. For being a baby girl who wants to sit in my lap and empty out the cupboards or knock all the magnets off the fridge. I don’t want to be that mom. I want to be a mom who enjoys my kids. Who takes the time to do things for myself without making my husband always pick up the baby slack.
Another thing that comes with things for myself and my recent weight gain is planning my meals better and taking dairy out. I would have liked to take dairy out today but I have quite a bit of heavy whipping cream left for my coffee and rather than wasting it, I think I will just start taking steps toward weaning off of it while still maintaining a high fat diet which is much more challenging when you take dairy out. My poor child has eczema broke out terribly on her head which means that the little dairy I was giving her was firing it up. So some changes need to be made.
I have an urge to do this all tomorrow. To just make it happen but that’s unrealistic. My hope is to complete this project by this Monday (which is really stretching it) but an ideal world would be to start November with my diet and exercise plan in a place to actually complete it. I want to be able to blog daily about where I am, where my setbacks are, and help to my motivate myself and maybe others to know that falling short is just human and that all we can do is keep trying. Some of those days, the blog may just be about a recipe I’ve tried or am trying or about something inspiring I read that day but I want to write regardless of the subject.
So my few blog readers, I hope you enjoy my ramblings, my complaining, and my daily journey of trying to continue to manage my Celiac disease, my lactose intolerance, my weight loss, and my wild child, Little Fox.
Always,
Winter Song
I had a baby. I did. Three weeks and five days ago. I know every parent thinks it but she is perfect. Tiny but big and beautiful and already making her own decisions.
I’ve been planning for a long time to have a completely natural birth. I tried to eat well, kept things as natural as I could, and only took medicine when I absolutely had to because I was running a fever. My birth plan wanted no epidural and I certainly was going to do everything I could to avoid a c-section. I had essential oils, massage tools, and I was looking forward to relaxing in the bath tub while dealing with labor. My daughter, who my dad affectionately name Little Fox, decided that she had other plans.
On Thursday, March 10, I had a doctor’s appointment. I was dilated 1 centimeter and the doctor was confident she was head down. It was pretty obvious because he had a bit of a time trying to check how dilated I was. We left feeling good and made an appointment for the day after my due date to have an ultrasound in case she decided to wait a bit and the doctor could make sure it was safe to continue. Thinking back on it, I should have realized something was different later that day. I felt her pushing hard near my rib cage, enough that it was almost sore but I assumed it was her feet and she was just stretching out more that day.
The next day when I woke up, I realized that my water may have broke while I was sleeping. I called the doctor and she told me to go ahead to the hospital so they could do a test to make sure it was amniotic fluid and that my water actually broke. She said not to hurry and go ahead and have breakfast before I come in. My husband and I were getting really excited. I called my mom to let her know. She said she was going into work early so she could get up to me before my labor actually started. Kyle’s mother was staying with us and I woke her up to let know that we were going to have breakfast and then head to the hospital. Kyle started to pack our stuff up and I told him not to worry about it. Even though my water had broken, contractions hadn’t really started. I’d have a few cramps here and there but no real labor yet. I didn’t want to pack up all our bathroom essentials and clothes and then have to unpack them all again. I was assuming I’d be in labor for a while.
So I washed my face and brushed my hair but wasn’t too concerned with much else. Why take the effort to do my make up and wear something cute when I was going to be coming back home and be in the worst pain of my life? When we got to the hospital, the same doctor that had examined me the day before was the one on call. They did the swab and sent it down to the lab. The doctor checked how dilated I was and said that it was much easier to do that than yesterday so he wanted to do a quick ultrasound to make sure. I didn’t really understand what he was looking for but I didn’t really question it. He pulled in the ultrasound machine and explained to me that somehow my daughter had flipped over and her head was by my rib cage. I felt numb and asked what that means. He said that because it looks like there is very little fluid so my water likely did break that I was going to have a c-section that day. I asked if we could try and flip her first and he said no, not with there being so little fluid. Even if my water hadn’t broke apparently, it’s very hard to flip a baby when it’s a first baby. And giving birth to her breech was very dangerous.
I cried. I still cry when I think about how frustrated and helpless I felt. My mom had an emergency c-section with me that almost killed us both. She was angry and disappointed about my birth for a long time. I was so scared. I told my husband to call my mom and tell her. I think he wanted me to talk to her but I knew if I tried to explain it, I would lose all coherency.
Before the lab work even came back, the doctor started prepping for the c-section. He was confident it was coming back to say that my water did break. I don’t think the nurse understood my upset but I didn’t feel the need to explain myself. We had arrived at the hospital at 9:30. They wheeled me down for the c-section at 11, maybe 11:15. My parents barely made it before I headed down there. I thank God they did. I’m not sure I would have been all right if I hadn’t seen my mom beforehand.
I steeled my resolve before they wheeled me down. I wasn’t going to be crying in the surgery room when they stuck that gigantic needle in my back. I hate needles with a fiery passion and just the thought of them makes me nauseous. I was going to be perfectly still for it.
Kyle sat at my head while I felt weird and numb and talked to me while they started pushing and prodding me. It was a scary and strange sensation. Once they made the incision, they pulled Elizabeth out only 7 minutes later. She was born at 11:34 AM and was 7 pounds, 11 ounces and 19.25 inches.
She was absolute beauty. Her little lip was stuck out and she didn’t cry. She still doesn’t really cry. The nurses at the hospital were amazing. They took my husband’s phone and took pictures of her for him and then pulled my shirt down so she could sit on my chest. Even with the c-section they still did delayed cord clamping and kept her on my chest until they were ready to move me to the recovery room.
All my thoughts about my botched birth plan had fled. I had my baby. She was beautiful and so strong right from the get go. She was and is healthy. I wasn’t disappointed in her or myself. I was so relieved she was here and safe. I couldn’t think of anything else that mattered.
We’ve had a few hiccups since. It turned out she had a short frenulum (tongue tied) which no one caught until two days after she was born. So for two days, she was in a lot of pain trying to nurse. Her crying, of course, made me sob so it was very trying and very scary. Again, the hospital we were at was so great and actually had donor milk there for us to use. However, my stubborn genius daughter has now realized that bottles are easier so now she is not a huge fan of actually latching even after having her frenulum clipped. It’s frustrating, I’d really love for her to nurse but at least I am producing lots and lots of breast milk and not only does she get plenty to eat but I also freezing about 30 to 50 ounces a day. Like the c-section, not exactly how I planned it but I am truly blessed to be able to provide so much breast milk. Even if my supply starts to drop off later, within a few months I should have enough to keep her supplied long enough. Specially if she takes to solid food right away.
I am amazed by her. I watch her lift her head and am amazed at her effort to try and turn over already. She’s only 3 and 1/2 weeks and she can almost turn half over. She is my Little Fox and my whole world. Truly, you can’t understand what love is until you hold your child in your arms.
I have not written a blog post in a long time. For a while, it was because I found out that I had a number of polyps and that I needed surgery in order to become pregnant. After all that time of wondering if I even had the ability to get pregnant, I had a possibility in front of me. A possibility which also came with the cost of surgery, anesthesia and no guarantee it would fix anything. So I moped around, stressed, cried, gained some weight, and held on to the hope that maybe, just maybe with all my allergies and other problems that this was the only issue for our fertility.
The surgery came and went. It went really well. The doctor felt good about the procedure and just speaking from a physical viewing when she removed the polyps, she said that it did not look like there were other issues at least physically. We were told to wait one full cycle before trying again. Even that little amount of time felt like forever.
On July 5, I took a test not expecting a positive sign but hoping and there it was. Two little lines bold as could be. I had suspected a pregnancy because of how bad I felt but my symptoms were also very flu like so I thought it was just in my head. It was made even more special because my two best friends were staying with us over the weekend so other than my husband and my mother, I got to tell them right away and in person.
As I write this, I am 20 weeks. Sometimes I feel like I am still in shock. I look at my growing belly and realize that there is a life inside of me, growing and becoming a person. A real person. I meant to write a blog post before this but I kept stopping myself. I think was worried about jinxing it. I’ll be honest, I’m still worried about jinxing it. But I also know that I have a beautiful child that I only have about 20 more weeks of waiting before I get to meet her.
Did I not mention we know it’s a girl? I already know she’s beautiful. I’m terrified and excited all at once. I have moments of unrelenting fear that something is wrong and moments of absolute tearful, thankful joy knowing that God has blessed me well beyond what I deserve. I call her by her name all the time. Elizabeth. The amount my husband and I use it when talking to my stomach, I’m pretty sure she’ll already know when she comes out. It just feels so good to know. To see her picture every day and know that she is mine.
Recently, I cut my hair short. It wasn’t incredibly long. It was past my shoulders but not quite to my bra strap. I’ve been growing it since it was a pixie / boy cut at about 19 years old. So about 7 years. In that 7 years, it has been thin, limp and an overall pain in my rear end. I was able to fix some things. Switched to a more natural shampoo, stopped dying my hair with conventional dyes and switched to henna. Found some ways to style it with a round brush and blow dryer instead of just flat ironing it every day.
It was a little longer than this.
As you can see, not incredibly long. I liked it well enough. I was just bored with it. It’s very thin and very fine so it would just fall flat. No matter how much product and round brushing, and wishing I did, I would end the day with my hair flat against my head. It drove me insane but I kept trying to work through it. My husband wanted me to have long hair so gosh darn it, I was going to have long hair.
As I’ve mentioned before, last year was a really crappy year. You know, to put it eloquently. I decided early on in 2015 that it was going to be a better year. Not because of the things I couldn’t control but because of the things I could. I’ve found out some bad news that I am forcing to look at as good news (later to come in a blog post) and although a lot of things in my life seem out of my control, I felt the need to control something. In this journey of trying to get pregnant, it just seems to be one thing after another of bad news that I can’t do a whole lot about. THAT IS SO STRESSFUL. It’s one thing to be able to fix it, it’s a whole different issue when you feel like you just keep getting more and more crap thrown at you.
I decided to cut my hair for a lot of reasons. One of those was because I had been growing my hair out for so long, I was ready for a change. Another was that I wanted to be in a different place this year and what better way to mark that for myself than to chop off 6 to 8 inches of hair. And wanting to be incredibly lazy about styling my hair was admittedly a little bit of my motivation. So I did. I went to a nice conservative bob. Nothing too shocking, just a lot shorter.
See. Nothing major. I. Really. Like It. A lot. I think it’s still feminine while being a little different. A little funky without compromising professionalism. Very me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve gotten a lot of positive responses. Which is always nice. The part that was shocking to me was the number of men in my life who felt they needed to give commentary on my short hair. You know because I was concerned with whether or not a guy I work with still finds me attractive. His exact words when he saw me were, “Boy, girls sure do like to cut their hair short.”
I was so surprised that I just stared at him. If I was more witty, my response should have been, “Yeah, it’s all gone downhill since we started letting women read.”
This person wasn’t unique, just the rudest. The first time I went to church after I cut my hair, I actually left angry. I realize that I am at a place with older, much more conservative people and usually men are going to think that long hair is better but my hairstyle is not my only defining feature. First off, I think I look adorable with short hair. 🙂 But beyond that, even if a person doesn’t like short hair, I still take good care of myself. I am fit. I’m smart. I’m motivated. I work really hard. Why does short hair suddenly make me “not attractive”?
And to that point, since when is my hair style and the way I dress for anyone else but me? Sure, I want my husband to think I look good but that’s not anyone’s business whether he does or not. That’s between us. I know people make the comment all the time, “Women don’t do that for men, they do it for each other.”
SO WHAT IF WE DO IT FOR EACH OTHER? SO WHAT IF WE DO IT FOR MEN? SO WHAT IF WE DO IT FOR OURSELVES?
WE ARE NOT DEFINED BY HOW WE LOOK.
I’ve never understood this. My daily decisions are about how I feel. Not how you feel about how I look. How does this concept of doing anything to please other people suddenly become a fact? In other words, I didn’t cut my hair as a feminist statement but I’m starting to feel like it should be.
We should be supportive of each other rather than judge each other. I know it’s almost human nature but rather than question why such a nice girl would cut off her long, beautiful hair, maybe you should just tell her she looks nice. You don’t know why she did it. Maybe she was in a lot of pain and needed to do something different so she felt like she was in control of something in her life. Or maybe she just didn’t feel good about herself anymore and wanted something a little dramatic to boost her self esteem. A person doesn’t know what someone else is dealing with. Don’t assume a haircut or clothing style change or anything is something insignificant.
And really, if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.
Thirteen days ago, I became an aunt. A concept that still doesn’t seem real to me. She is absolutely beautiful, with delightful round cheeks that remind of my little brother. He was also a beautiful baby, much bigger than his daughter but with the same dark eyes and surprisingly tan skin. I am in love. 
The same week that my sister-in-law went into labor, my doctor called me to tell me that he believes I have a polyp and we need to do further testing. After doing some research about it, I feel better. The initial reaction, though, was fear. Polyps mean surgery. Surgery comes with risks. Surgically removing the polyp still doesn’t guarantee I’ll get pregnant. After hearing this, I wanted nothing more than to call my mom and cry to her about the very unfairness of life itself but she was at my sister-in-law’s side helping her give birth to her first granddaughter. Self involved, I know but I wanted my mom. I had already been sharing her for the last 9 months and now I had to share her when I really needed her. My sister-in-law needed her more but the emotional brain is not logical.
I’ve come to a better place but my heart hurts sometimes to look a new mother and know how badly I want it. To know that at this point, it’s not just going to happen for us until we take major steps to try to make it happen. Right now, we cannot even continue trying to get pregnant because the next test I am supposed to take, I absolutely cannot be pregnant for. I shouldn’t try to get pregnant with this unknown anyway because it’s possible for polyps to cause miscarriages.
Intimacy with my husband has taken on a different tone. Nothing drastic but I’m not allowed to feel the closeness I really want to feel with the man I love. Trying to have a baby changes the love and intimacy between two people and I really loved that. I fear, and fear so much more than my husband that we will go through all this and it still won’t happen. I’m afraid of invasive procedures and I’m afraid of the costs. I’m afraid that we’ll spend thousands of dollars with no baby and find out that now we don’t have enough extra money put away to put forth for adoption.
I’m afraid of all these things because there is something so wrong with my body right now. I know it. I can feel it. I pray every day, it’s only because of this supposed polyp and once it’s gone, I’ll start having PMS normally again. The severe mid month cramps will stop. The everything will go back to a place where I feel like I am capable of having a life inside of me.
It’s a mixed bag because I am unquestionably happy for my brother and my sister-in-law but I am also seething with jealousy. 
I’m mostly aware of my jealousy. Other people don’t understand it. They think every opinion or comment I have comes from vindictiveness. I’m not upset with those blessed with the things that I want. I am upset because I stand here with a large question mark above my head feel insecure about myself as a woman.
I am a pretty positive person that doesn’t let a lot get them down. I know that there is a path set down before me. I know that with patience and trust in God, it will eventually become clear. For now, though, I feel like all I do is question myself and God. Do I think things because I am being impatient? Do I think something because God is opening to my heart to other paths and other people? I wish I could trust myself more.
her winter song 