I went to the Pleasanton Farmer's Market this week. I'm just starting to get in on the farmer's market scene and it is awesome. Everyone there is so helpful and it just feels good to talk with and buy directly from the people doing the work.
One booth had a exploring center for kids, so Lee got to play with some worms, while I learned about compost boxes and Kale. I made some Kale chips per his advice and they turned out great. Lee couldn't get enough. Yay! Another booth sold pasture raised meat. They were kind enough to help me understand how to sear and cook the meat I got. Tim ended up grilling it anyway, but it was still nice to learn. One of the booths with lemons, while not very informative, were more than willing to share their opinions on lemon tree pruning. The live music was entertaining and there was a wood worker with brilliant pieces of art. Both were so upbeat and kind to me and my family.
What a great world we live in. So many good people. I'm grateful I got to be a part of their lives for an hour.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Reminders
I love reminders! I seem to forget a lot of things and I am so grateful for patient people who send me reminders. I am the first to admit that it is MY responsibility to remember my doctor, dentist, and hair appointments, but I am forever grateful when I get their reminder call, text or email a few days ahead of the appointment.
Today at church I was made aware of another reminder that I get, practically on a weekly basis. The reminder to pray and read your scriptures. Typically when I hear those answers in a class my heart yearns to be better at it. I know that if I want to have the relationship with God that I desire I've got to talk with Him, but too often the morning turns into the afternoon and then the evening and I still haven't made the time. This time when I heard the speaker talk about those particular patterns of faith my guilty feelings didn't appear. Instead I just felt the love of my Heavenly Father giving me a gentle reminder. There was no judgement. Just a "Hey, I know what you want and here's a little reminder of how to do it."
Thanks for the reminder!
Today at church I was made aware of another reminder that I get, practically on a weekly basis. The reminder to pray and read your scriptures. Typically when I hear those answers in a class my heart yearns to be better at it. I know that if I want to have the relationship with God that I desire I've got to talk with Him, but too often the morning turns into the afternoon and then the evening and I still haven't made the time. This time when I heard the speaker talk about those particular patterns of faith my guilty feelings didn't appear. Instead I just felt the love of my Heavenly Father giving me a gentle reminder. There was no judgement. Just a "Hey, I know what you want and here's a little reminder of how to do it."
Thanks for the reminder!
What!? I have to do it?
When I was little my mom and dad could fix everything. My toy was broken and they fixed it. I skinned my knee and they fixed it. I wanted to learn to ride a bike and they helped me. I had a sad heart and they healed it.
As I got older we had to branch out to others, but again they could fix everything. My teeth were crooked and the orthodontist straightened them. I felt sick and the doctor gave me medicine. I had a speech impediment and the speech therapist fixed it. My bike was stolen (because my brother left it unlocked at a school overnight) and he bought me a new one.
Up to that point in my life if something went wrong someone else could and would always fix it. Until one day I got mono. Not the fun way either. I went to the doctor and he told me he couldn't fix it. "I's a virus and has to run its course," he said. I couldn't take that for an answer. Doctors are supposed to fix everything! So I went back, THREE times. I was really hurting! In my past doctors could always make me feel better. Maybe if I just went back enough I'd find one who would "really" help me. In the end I really did just have to wait for it to run its course. And that's when I began to understand that sometimes they only person who can fix it, is me.
My broken heart isn't healed by my mother's warm embrace anymore. My husband's embrace works a little bit better nowadays. Seriously though, if I really want to heal my emotional wounds I have to do it. I have to find them, look at them, appreciate them and let them go. My mom, sister, friends, and husband cannot fix it for me.
Another area I struggle with is eating. I want to eat more healthy foods and teach my family to do the same. I am the gate keeper for the food my family eats. I've read cookbooks, listened to dietitians, and watched fad diets come and go. I think I have a pretty good idea what healthy food is. The problem is that the cookbook, dietitian and diet are not going to fix my problem. I choose what to buy, prepare and ultimately eat.
In summary, I'm so grateful for the helpful books, videos, experts, etc who help me learn and grow in areas that I am weak, but ultimately I'm the only who can "fix" me.
As I got older we had to branch out to others, but again they could fix everything. My teeth were crooked and the orthodontist straightened them. I felt sick and the doctor gave me medicine. I had a speech impediment and the speech therapist fixed it. My bike was stolen (because my brother left it unlocked at a school overnight) and he bought me a new one.
Up to that point in my life if something went wrong someone else could and would always fix it. Until one day I got mono. Not the fun way either. I went to the doctor and he told me he couldn't fix it. "I's a virus and has to run its course," he said. I couldn't take that for an answer. Doctors are supposed to fix everything! So I went back, THREE times. I was really hurting! In my past doctors could always make me feel better. Maybe if I just went back enough I'd find one who would "really" help me. In the end I really did just have to wait for it to run its course. And that's when I began to understand that sometimes they only person who can fix it, is me.
My broken heart isn't healed by my mother's warm embrace anymore. My husband's embrace works a little bit better nowadays. Seriously though, if I really want to heal my emotional wounds I have to do it. I have to find them, look at them, appreciate them and let them go. My mom, sister, friends, and husband cannot fix it for me.
Another area I struggle with is eating. I want to eat more healthy foods and teach my family to do the same. I am the gate keeper for the food my family eats. I've read cookbooks, listened to dietitians, and watched fad diets come and go. I think I have a pretty good idea what healthy food is. The problem is that the cookbook, dietitian and diet are not going to fix my problem. I choose what to buy, prepare and ultimately eat.
In summary, I'm so grateful for the helpful books, videos, experts, etc who help me learn and grow in areas that I am weak, but ultimately I'm the only who can "fix" me.
Friday, February 12, 2016
Potty Training
My oldest is now 3 months away from being three. We've been potty training for a month and a half. Everyday he's learning a little bit more and getting a little bit better. For us it's just a matter of time and patience. That's not how it started though. Here's our story...
Last July I read up on a three day potty training program. I'm not going to go into the details of it here, but I am a program follower so it was a perfect fit for me. We started July 16 and it went just as outlined. By day three he had no accidents and was telling me when he needed to go potty. It was awesome! I was so happy.
Then day 4,5,6 happened and the accidents started. I wasn't prepared for this. The program told me he'd be potty trained and now I was extracting urine out of my carpet 2 to 5 times a day. Thankfully he still did all his bowel movements in the toilet. Sadly, his inability, lack of desire, or defiant control tactics (he always seemed to wet himself whenever I started spending time with his little sister) got the better of me and I got mad. So much so that our relationship to each other and with the bathroom were becoming very strained to say the least. Finally, two months later I gave up and put him in pull-ups. A month after that I reverted all the way back to diapers. (Thankfully, he continued to have bowel movements in the toilet all the way to November, despite the diaper.) I felt so defeated. But more importantly I felt so ashamed that I got so angry. My lack of something: patience, control, empathy, love, long-suffering... caused a hard thing to become even harder.
January rolled around and I knew it was time to start again. This time had to be different. And the thing that needed to be different was me. My son is a perfect little boy: Full of fun, excitement, wonder, laughter, and love. I didn't want to hurt him or our relationship this time. Happily, I learned a few things in the intermediate months. Like potty training underwear. I bought five pairs of those and I pulled out my cloth diapers, that I had used a year before, for extra coverage during naptime and nighttime. I knew I didn't want to use pull-ups because he already equated those with diapers. I also wanted both of us to know when he went to the bathroom. I just didn't want it to get on the floor. An unexpected bonus is that it is winter so he wears pants and they help catch his urine too, unlike shorts. With all these changes I felt ready to start again.
So we began and it did not go according to the program this time. Day three was just as bad as day one and I started to feel my resolve slipping. So I decided to change my thinking. "I'm not potty training, I'm putting him back into cloth diapers that happen to be underwear and if he goes to the bathroom in the toilet we celebrate. If not, we change him as I normally would." For a week or two my mental and emotional state were good, but his apparent lack of progress was slowly getting to me. So I reverted back to a new program. I tried the "fill him up with liquids so he has to use the bathroom a lot and put him on the toilet every 30 minutes or so"method. To be honest I kind of just pieced together things I had heard. Needless to say it was an utter fail. More miserable than last summer. My remorse overcame me that night after the kids were in bed and I just cried. How wonderful it was to have a husband bear me up that night. He gave me his full support both emotionally and physically, as I was leaning on him as I cried.
The next day we started again with my "I'm not potty training..." method. Yes, obviously I am potty training him. I ask him if he needs to go potty. I help him to the bathroom when he wakes up, before bed, before we leave the house, etc. There are still some tense moments and brewing battles, but if ever I stop feeling patient and loving I step back and remind myself that if he does wet himself I'm just changing his underwear instead of a diaper.
We are a month and a half in and everyday he learns a little more and gets a little better. We are much happier with each other and the bathroom. He continues to be my perfect little boy, full of smiles, laughter and love. And that, for me, is the best part.
Last July I read up on a three day potty training program. I'm not going to go into the details of it here, but I am a program follower so it was a perfect fit for me. We started July 16 and it went just as outlined. By day three he had no accidents and was telling me when he needed to go potty. It was awesome! I was so happy.
Then day 4,5,6 happened and the accidents started. I wasn't prepared for this. The program told me he'd be potty trained and now I was extracting urine out of my carpet 2 to 5 times a day. Thankfully he still did all his bowel movements in the toilet. Sadly, his inability, lack of desire, or defiant control tactics (he always seemed to wet himself whenever I started spending time with his little sister) got the better of me and I got mad. So much so that our relationship to each other and with the bathroom were becoming very strained to say the least. Finally, two months later I gave up and put him in pull-ups. A month after that I reverted all the way back to diapers. (Thankfully, he continued to have bowel movements in the toilet all the way to November, despite the diaper.) I felt so defeated. But more importantly I felt so ashamed that I got so angry. My lack of something: patience, control, empathy, love, long-suffering... caused a hard thing to become even harder.
January rolled around and I knew it was time to start again. This time had to be different. And the thing that needed to be different was me. My son is a perfect little boy: Full of fun, excitement, wonder, laughter, and love. I didn't want to hurt him or our relationship this time. Happily, I learned a few things in the intermediate months. Like potty training underwear. I bought five pairs of those and I pulled out my cloth diapers, that I had used a year before, for extra coverage during naptime and nighttime. I knew I didn't want to use pull-ups because he already equated those with diapers. I also wanted both of us to know when he went to the bathroom. I just didn't want it to get on the floor. An unexpected bonus is that it is winter so he wears pants and they help catch his urine too, unlike shorts. With all these changes I felt ready to start again.
So we began and it did not go according to the program this time. Day three was just as bad as day one and I started to feel my resolve slipping. So I decided to change my thinking. "I'm not potty training, I'm putting him back into cloth diapers that happen to be underwear and if he goes to the bathroom in the toilet we celebrate. If not, we change him as I normally would." For a week or two my mental and emotional state were good, but his apparent lack of progress was slowly getting to me. So I reverted back to a new program. I tried the "fill him up with liquids so he has to use the bathroom a lot and put him on the toilet every 30 minutes or so"method. To be honest I kind of just pieced together things I had heard. Needless to say it was an utter fail. More miserable than last summer. My remorse overcame me that night after the kids were in bed and I just cried. How wonderful it was to have a husband bear me up that night. He gave me his full support both emotionally and physically, as I was leaning on him as I cried.
The next day we started again with my "I'm not potty training..." method. Yes, obviously I am potty training him. I ask him if he needs to go potty. I help him to the bathroom when he wakes up, before bed, before we leave the house, etc. There are still some tense moments and brewing battles, but if ever I stop feeling patient and loving I step back and remind myself that if he does wet himself I'm just changing his underwear instead of a diaper.
We are a month and a half in and everyday he learns a little more and gets a little better. We are much happier with each other and the bathroom. He continues to be my perfect little boy, full of smiles, laughter and love. And that, for me, is the best part.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Modern Technology
Recently, I've been trying to make more of our food from scratch. Through this process I have become much more aware of how convenient our lives are. Today I paid special attention to the little things modern inventions have given us and I was astounded by how much we have. Let me give you an example just from breakfast.
We had poached eggs, toast and bananas. I purchased the bread a few days ago and it's still good tightly sealed in its plastic bag. I plan on using the same loaf for a few more days and a second one is in the fridge. We had butter on our toast for which I did not have to milk a cow or churn into butter. Again I bought the butter previously. I always have a few sticks frozen in the freezer so I never run out. The toast itself was made in a toaster that I simply pressed the button down and it did the rest. The fact that we had bananas is a treat in and of itself. The ability to transport food hundreds of miles so we can enjoy it all year round is truly a modern miracle.
I could go on about stoves, pots and pans, eggs without needing chickens in my yard, etc. But I think this gives you an idea of the level of gratitude I felt today. I truly am grateful to live today in the country which I live. We have so much and I hope I can remember today whenever I start to feel envious of others.
We had poached eggs, toast and bananas. I purchased the bread a few days ago and it's still good tightly sealed in its plastic bag. I plan on using the same loaf for a few more days and a second one is in the fridge. We had butter on our toast for which I did not have to milk a cow or churn into butter. Again I bought the butter previously. I always have a few sticks frozen in the freezer so I never run out. The toast itself was made in a toaster that I simply pressed the button down and it did the rest. The fact that we had bananas is a treat in and of itself. The ability to transport food hundreds of miles so we can enjoy it all year round is truly a modern miracle.
I could go on about stoves, pots and pans, eggs without needing chickens in my yard, etc. But I think this gives you an idea of the level of gratitude I felt today. I truly am grateful to live today in the country which I live. We have so much and I hope I can remember today whenever I start to feel envious of others.
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Eat Everything
I recently read the book, French Kids Eat Everything by Karen Le Billon. There is a lot to the book, but my main takeaway was that while I love food, I don't enjoy it. According to Karen's book, it seems that the French "eat everything" because they enjoy their food and their meal times. I'm no expert on the French or their lifestyle, but that is something I want to learn to do: Eat everything because I enjoy it, not for mindless satiation.
In the recent past I've been known to eat for emotional reasons, graze a bit and gluttonously eat desserts. In fact, I recently made a goal to only eat dessert once a day instead of after every meal. It didn't last long. After reading French Kids Eat Everything, I realized that I don't slow down to savor my food. If I did, maybe I wouldn't be as tempted to put the processed faux-chocolate in my mouth. I just stuff it in there as fast as I can so I can put another bite in my mouth. Much like my 1 year old. Once I feel slightly sick from all the bread, crackers, cake or cookies I "love", I stop. Oh how "I loved food".
I've now been trying to enjoy my food and my meal companions a little more. We only eat 4 times a day: breakfast, lunch, snack and dinner. No more grazing or snacking. Except for the planned snack. I'm trying to make each meal something to look forward to. Not fancy, just something we like and something new to try. I have coupled these changes with an attempt to eat more real foods, so we have a lot of new things to try. It does take a lot more planning, time in the kitchen, and longer to eat, but I've found it very rewarding. My son eats carrots and cucumbers now. Our family has tried spinach, beets, and leeks. We've experimented with squash and I even cooked a whole chicken. I've still got a lot of experimenting and practicing to do, but I'm glad to say that as a family we are starting to eat everything and enjoying it.
In the recent past I've been known to eat for emotional reasons, graze a bit and gluttonously eat desserts. In fact, I recently made a goal to only eat dessert once a day instead of after every meal. It didn't last long. After reading French Kids Eat Everything, I realized that I don't slow down to savor my food. If I did, maybe I wouldn't be as tempted to put the processed faux-chocolate in my mouth. I just stuff it in there as fast as I can so I can put another bite in my mouth. Much like my 1 year old. Once I feel slightly sick from all the bread, crackers, cake or cookies I "love", I stop. Oh how "I loved food".
I've now been trying to enjoy my food and my meal companions a little more. We only eat 4 times a day: breakfast, lunch, snack and dinner. No more grazing or snacking. Except for the planned snack. I'm trying to make each meal something to look forward to. Not fancy, just something we like and something new to try. I have coupled these changes with an attempt to eat more real foods, so we have a lot of new things to try. It does take a lot more planning, time in the kitchen, and longer to eat, but I've found it very rewarding. My son eats carrots and cucumbers now. Our family has tried spinach, beets, and leeks. We've experimented with squash and I even cooked a whole chicken. I've still got a lot of experimenting and practicing to do, but I'm glad to say that as a family we are starting to eat everything and enjoying it.
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