Return

Yes, I'm alive. Yes, I still have this blog. Yes, I feel like the worst blogger ever for disappearing like I have. So, for the first time in forever I'm not making an excuse as to why I don't have the time to sit here and write. Though in my back of my head I'm telling myself to simply sit in this lovely jacuzzi tub with the last of my relaxing lavender salts, and wine, and just be still. Just once. Since I know myself well, I know that's not possible for my 100 mile per hour mind and I would quickly grab a book to fill the void. So, I figured I'd take the leap and return back to you all! 

And YES, I've watched Disney Frozen so much over the past couple of months that not only do I go to sleep singing the soundtrack in my head, and during the numerous times I typically wake up or am woken up by a little person throughout the night, but apparently the lyrics are now becoming a part of my daily lingo. Wonderful.

Aside from the incessant Frozen watching, reenactments and soundtrack singing, I do have a fairly good reason for my long absence. A couple of reasons actually. We have officially returned back to our home state! In fact, we are officially settled in our new home. Most rooms are done, most furniture is bought and boxes are a thing of the past. Best of all, we've met nearly all our neighbors and we are ecstatic that we found a neighborhood even better than we could have dreamed of for our forever home!

If the move alone isn't grounds for a bit of a blogging reprieve then perhaps my daughter starting her growth hormone replacement therapy is. If you've been around my blog for while then you may remember the plethora of tests we've gone through over the past couple years that left me in a bit of a state of anxiety laced with freak out, worry over things that can not be changed, mom mode. Well, I finally agreed to the 4 hour long growth hormone stimulation test, with the intent to tell everyone who was pushing for growth hormones to piss off once it was done. Didn't I get a surprise when the results came back that my little girl is in fact growth hormone deficient. We waited for our move and had an appointment with our new endocrinologist the first week we were in town. Less than two months later I was able to get her approved for medical assistance (thank God!), she was approved for GH (growth hormone) and we started home injections 10 days ago. Yikes! Even writing it all makes my head spin a bit. Oh, and my son decided to join the medical parade party and has been to the pediatrician 3 times, the allergist once and his new ENT once. Oh right, and an urgent care once. Despite getting tubes in December, we can't seem to shake an ear infection. Yes, all this in two months. 

So, please forgive me for leaving this little place in the dust and let's try to get back to all my self talk insanity, which I've been told helps some of you feel a bit less lonely in your own insanity! Hopefully no one has gone off the deep end these pasts months, aside from myself that is. And off the deep end I have plunged! A few times.

With that... On with the show!

I actually meant to write on Mother's Day. It was to be a vow to my kids that I felt I needed to get out of my head to make it more legit; making me stick to my words. Instead, I had an opportunity to teach my first yoga class since moving so I jumped at the chance. Then I helped my husband move 5 cubic yards of dirt into the raised garden we built. Good times.

Following that desire to get myself back here, I had one of my many epiphanies last week after a random online chat with my aunt. This major epiphany was that I can no longer be a grump butt (as we lovingly call the kids on those days we want to strangle them). I thought, hmmmm, maybe I should let all this self talk fly through my fingers in order to ensure it sticks, verses getting lost in this crazy head of mine.

Unfortunately, I didn't hit the computer and that little message to my inner self to stop being a grump butt only lasted through our home warming party last weekend. Basically, a couple days. I've since been back to letting others actions dictate my mood. I continue to have this ridiculous notion that if someone does something I don't like, or worse yet, that they promised me they wouldn't and then do it anyway, that me being pissed off at them (and the rest of the world for that matter) will make them... I don't know what I think it will make the person do. Stop their behaviors? Do what they say they will? I really don't know.

I know this. Yelling does not make anyone do anything different. And it makes me feel 100 times worse. Threats may work in the moment but, in the case of my kids, am I seriously going to throw away ALL their toys? As a former behavior specialist, I am more than well aware that idle threats will never work. Mainly because the person knows you won't follow through as much as you know it! I tend to remember counting to ten, leaving the room and deep breaths after I'm beyond the point of reason. The result... I stay mad. I actually hold a grudge over my kids not listening at this point, I'm that frustrated. So, that anger lingers through the day, and the night, and then I'm woken up 2 or 3 times throughout the night so I wake up tired and cranky and still angry and we start all over again. Because being in a perpetual state of anger is clearly a sure fire way to make others do what you ask and expect of them. I'll show them, ummm, or not. 

The same goes for my husband. Which is where this all began, as many of you know. My emotional state tends to be 100% centered around his drinking. The good days are clear to all who know me and the bad ones are just as obvious. Considering I have that erroneous notion that holding on to my anger will create some sort of change, the bad days tend to linger even when we could enjoy a lull in the madness. Though I still feel I've made positive strides, there's days, and weeks, I feel I take 10 steps back. And that is likely why when I took a silly survey last night and it asked about my best friend, I had no clue how to answer the question. I sat for a long time trying to decide who my best friend even was anymore. I'd guess Craig would have to do the same thing. Which is really. really. sad. 


The worst part of psychoanalyzing my thoughts and actions is that I KNOW what I need to release my insanity. I know what I need to do. The part that makes me feel as though I'm teetering on true insanity status is that I continue to not to follow through on what I know must happen and what I need. It's that ugly feeling of being out of balance with oneself. This is why each day I hear the words of one of my favorite fellow boys from the Tribe, Albert Einstein, rattling around in my head.... Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Yup, that's me.

So, with that daily realization, I have returned to this little blog. I can't promise to dedicate as much time as I did in the past, but I intend to try. My hope in doing so is to return to my more sane state of being, which I managed to find here before. Being open and honest about our struggles seems to be the missing piece right now. That and more yoga. And as always, I hope this quest for my own sanity helps others realize they aren't alone in their daily struggles that life happily, and indiscriminately, hands out to each one of us.


I'll return soon friends. Until then, be well.

If you have a loved one you lost in the line of duty, I hope this weekend has you reminiscing of fond memories and I thank you and your lost loved one for their service. As well as all who fight for our country.

Namaste!

Hope and Books

I haven't forgotten about this little place. I've just been continuing to remain immersed in my paranormal romance, fantasy, action packed, forbidden love stories that keep my mind off all the things I should be doing and thinking through. Just so you fully understand my new found obsession, I decided to include a list of all the books I've read over the past few months at the end.

Other than my head being buried in a book 24/7, or more accurately my phone or iPad on the kindle app, I've also been contemplating what I want to do with my life. Yes, yoga was a dream and I finally completed my certification... but then found that it remains challenging to teach with my kids still so young. On top of that it also means my own practice has slacked off so much I have to wonder if I should be teaching right now. Not having a husband I can trust to leave my kids alone with, for fear of him drinking the moment I walk out the door, started to make my dream more an anxiety filled task. At the same time, feeling trapped at home with my only role being "Mommy" has made me realize I am not the mother I thought I would be. Or could be. Most of the time I don't even feel like I'm a good mom. 

My solution... I need to go back to work. I need time away from my kids so I can regain patience and enjoy their sweet little smiles and intoxicating giggles. The problem... I don't have an overwhelming passion to do much of anything. Other than teach yoga... but I can't exactly teach 4 classes back to back every day without burning out quickly. So, in between my reading and the typical mommy duties... I've been brainstorming how to bring a bit of happiness back to my life via some sort of work I desire to do outside of the home. 

My favorite job was a Starbucks barista. That and my waitress job in south beach. Since I can't exactly pick up and move back to the  beach, I think my solution is to find a cute little local coffee shop and get back to keeping the community awake! While I'd love to go back to getting a "real" paycheck, I also do not want to add to my stress level. Being a therapist isn't the most stress free of career choices so... making coffee... that I can do. A barista is nothing short of a daytime bartender anyway and we all know a bartender is as close to a therapist without the need to confidentiality as you can get. Couple that with some yoga classes, and hopefully a number of privates to make child care worth the cost, and I just may be able to reclaim a piece of that ever elusive happiness I'm always seeking. If nothing else, a consistent break from my sole role of mommy so I can get back to enjoying the most important "job" I have. The only one that really matters. And there you have it. My big plan.

Though our upcoming move has left me with a bittersweet feeling and the anxiety of finding that "perfect" home has finally come to an end, as of today actually, I'm slowly allowing myself to feel a small sense of hope. I gave up allowing myself to feel hope some time ago; around when I realized I wasn't going to leave my husband and he wasn't going to fight the alcoholic in him hard enough to overcome it either. So to even feel an inkling of hope right now is a rather foreign emotion and I'm not sure how to react to it. My first instinct is to push it aside because allowing hope to surface has only left me feeling hopeless far too many times over the past handful of years. I'm fighting that urge though. With a new home on the horizon and a solid plan in place to get myself back out in the world of the living, I think allowing myself to feel a bit of hope is a positive first step in the right direction. 

In the meantime... there's the fun parts of moving to be accomplished like getting our new doctors in place, or old ones reestablished, getting the kids into a new school, packing... again, getting on the schedule at a yoga studio or two, changing our address...again. And of course there's many more of my vampire, witches, werewolves, fairy and other supernatural creatures apocalyptic filled drama and love stories left to indulge in. 

So my friends, here's to giving hope another shot. And may you never lose your hope like I did. It's really no way to live. 

Namaste.


And as promised... My "recent" book list. Recent as in about the past 5 months. Like I said, I have a problem! Yes, I've read all of these. Some a couple of times. And I may have missed some as formatting all this was a pain in the butt! Some are for an adult audience, which I didn't realize at the time, but they were excellent.


 

Giving the werewolves some love too.
2 in this series and definitely for
adults only.

 

There's 5 or 6 of this series depending
how you buy it. Very unique.
Can be more violent than one
might like but it's cheap and very good.

I hate to even say I read this series b/c it said it was going to continue with another trilogy and then the author just went MIA. But it was interesting... with no real ending.



Loved this series. 3rd one in
trilogy is not released yet. Check
out author's page here.







6 in this series. Last one to be
released in May. 1st one is a
movie already. Read them all in
5 days! Check them out here.

There are 10 books total in this series 
(Vampires Realm) and a few shorts you
can download for free here. Loved them all.


 







Only read first 3. Another adult read.
Same author as Vampires Realm. Sharing
my supernatural love with angels :)





Yup, read all 13. Prefer the original
author but I was hooked so I kept
on until the end. More to come! Order
to read is here. NOTHING like the show.

My most recent read. Cried my eyes out during
book 3! Unique, action and epic love story!



Just a good romance series. No
supernatural stuff. Series is here.


 

Home Sweet Home

As a child we moved quite a bit. It was often just my mom and I, with a period of time when she was in a long term relationship and even engaged. But mostly, just us... moving each year, never really having a place to call home. There wasn't a reason that I know of, we just moved. Change of scenery I guess. 

Somewhere along the line it became a running joke of calling our moves "spring cleaning". I can't remember who coined the little joke of our gypsy-like lifestyle, that wasn't really gypsyish at all since we always lived within less than a 10 mile radius, but the no roots part gave it a gypsy sort of feel. I was in 3 different elementary schools until 5th grade, when we finally settled... to live with my Pap. That was my home until I was 16. My mom's childhood home became the only place I ever knew as "home", though, it really wasn't "ours".

Ironically, twenty years later, my mom still lives in the same little house we moved in to after that, with my now stepdad. She found a place she calls home. The thing is, I only lived there two years before venturing off to college so it's my mom's home, not my home. I haven't even had my own room there in many years. 

In college, I of course moved a lot. Each year in fact, as most college students do. I lived in Charleston, SC one summer, subletted a place in State College another summer and the summer before graduating took me to California for an internship. I then took a job out there and moved twice in the 9 months I was there. If you didnt keep count... that's 9 addresses in 4 years. Upon returning to State  College for another year and 1/2, I added 3 more addresses to my tally before venturing down to South Beach (Miami) for grad school. 

From there I moved on to AmeriCorps the following year and then landed in St. Louis upon finishing my service. I actually ended up at the same address for over a year there! Then I called off my engagement and moved... Again. Upon finishing grad school I made my way "home", to my Pap's. Things finally slowed down when my now husband and I found our way back to each other and planted ourselves in Lancaster. We actually owned a home! The three years we spent there was the longest I lived anywhere, other than my Pap's house growing up. It was my first home.

I got married while living in that house. I brought both my babies home to that house. And then, we were off and running once again. Another house, another place to call home. Though I knew it was a 5 year plan and not a place to call our forever home, over 2 years under the same roof was something to relish in a bit. If you follow my ramblings here then you know I had a love/hate relationship with that old house. It was a pain in my backside, with something needing fixed practically every month. Heck, I was allergic to the darn place! But it felt like home. I adjusted to life in that house and our community quicker than I did anywhere else I had ever lived. And then... 2 days after listing it and sticking that for sale sign in the yard, it was gone. 

I wasn't ready. I'm still not... even as I once again find myself going through the rigmarole of changing my address on every credit card, utility, online shopping site I use, doctor bills and bank accounts... it's still a bit unreal. And it's amazing how much harder it is to move the older you get! It was easy to have 9 addresses in four years back in the day. Change utilities, pack up my clothes and I was off to the races, so to speak. 

So that my friends is where I've been these past couple months. Well, moving, working through some medical stuff with the kids and being addicted to my paranormal romance books. While I knew the move was coming since October, once the ball got rolling it sort of found a mountain and was released and I was more expecting a nice slow game of crochet! To avoid the stress, I threw my mind into my ebooks to avoid everything else as much as I could.

All our things are in storage some 250 miles away and the kids and I are renting a little house so I can continue to teach my yoga classes and privates and they can continue to go to school with their friends, where they are happy and comfortable. Which means once again, I have no home. My kids no longer have a place to call home and while we are blessed to have a roof over our heads to keep us warm and somewhere safe to go (my mom's) when our water becomes tainted with chemicals, my heart still aches that ache only a parent can feel. I want more for my kids. I want their life to be different and substantially better than mine ever was. It's what every parent wants for their child. It's like it's part of a parent's DNA to desire such things. I don't want them moving every couple years and not having a place they can call home.

I'm also certainly aware that my kids are far better off than I was and then most kids are. They have been provided for in a way my mom worked her butt off, often working 6 days/week, to do for me. Yet it still pains me. My husband and I made a rookie house hunting mistake by waiting 12 hours to see one more house rather than making the offer on the house we knew in our hearts we wanted. Now that house is gone. There's nothing left to see and no other place we can envision calling our forever home, at this point. So we wait. Every day I get my new home listing and every day I want to cry as nothing new comes in, nothing we want or ones we may want but are just out of reach financially. 

We've both done it all on our own. We paid for school ourselves and are paying down student loans. We didn't have parents or grandparents in a position to help us financially in getting started. Our families are more than generous and our kids want for nothing, which has enabled us to better ourselves in many ways and keep our credit card debt far below that of the average Americans. Yet I still always feel this sense of struggle. 

I'm sure it's 100% related to that parent DNA of wanting more for their kids. It's like I can taste the fight my mom put up to give me everything she could. I watched her struggle and I watched her pain when she had to tell me "no" to things. She couldn't afford gymnastics, no matter how much I begged, but her dance teacher growing up ensured she could afford to put me in dance. While I wasn't very good, it still provided me with a sense of confidence every young girl needs. It warms me to know I don't have to worry about such things. My kids aren't even in school yet and have done more activities than I was able to be involved in throughout my whole childhood! Gymnastics and swimming. Violin and soccer. We've got T-ball and more soccer on the horizon and really, anything they desire. They will have the opportunity to find their calling, whatever it may turn out to be, and follow their dreams with few obstacles in their way. I know we are lucky and they won't know that struggle I did as a child.

I'm able to stay home with them which is something I dreamed of as a kid. I wished my mom could be home when I got home for school. I hated daycare and begged and cried until she finally let me come home on my own at the age of 8. There weren't the laws then as there are now and the owners of the house lived downstairs if I needed anything. I dreamed of the day though that I could be that mom who was always there. The one who could drive my kids to school and volunteer in the classroom or on field trips. I never dreamed that staying home with my kids would be so damn hard, of course! I'm certainly not my mother. She had patience and would have been a fantastic stay at home mom. I keep thinking I'll get better but my patience grows more thin each day and I've been questioning this dream quite a bit lately. But that's another post for another time.

I have other dreams though. To ensure my kids are raised Jewish, to pay for their college and to provide them a place to call home are a few of the biggies. A place they can be proud to come home to each day. One they are excited to invite their friends over to. One they look forward to coming back to after they are grown and spread their wings. I know deep down it sounds so shallow and materialistic of me because in the end, it's just a house, but I can't help what I want for them. I want them to have what I didn't. And everything in between. 

It's what keeps me holding on tot the sliver of hope that their father will get the help he needs to be sober for the long haul, so that they have a dad. It's what keeps me from going back to a full time job outside of the home, so I can be there with them until they spend their days in school. It's what keeps me putting money into their college fund when I'm sure it could be put to good use in other places  right now. And it's what breaks my heart when I search each day and can't find them a home. 

Sure, home is where the heart is and all that. I get it. My home is my mom. As cliché as the home is where the heart is... old habits die hard. Lifelong dreams, no matter how trivial they may be in the grand scheme of life, are difficult to let go of. I'm sure we'll find something. Eventually. I just hate to let go of any part of that dream and settle in any way. I've settled in many ways when it comes to life and I fear one more might just break my will to fight for each of my dreams. It may just be a bunch of wood and nails, but this house we search for represents so much more than that at this point. The symbolism of it, of providing our kids a home is all I can hold on to right now when it feels like so many other parts of my life keep crumbling down. 

So, fingers crossed, positive vibes, and all that goodness is much appreciated. And I apologize for such a lengthy absence. I hope this explains it and all is forgiven!

Please keep uplifting thoughts for all those effected my the chemical spill where I live as well. It's a long road ahead here in West Virginia. It's a scary thing to think your water may have a nasty chemical in it for many years to come and no one knows it's lasting effects on people or the environment. Maybe someday we humans will learn. Our planet is not unbreakable and we need it to survive. 

Namaste friends. 

Bye Bye Home

 

 

 

Age is Just a Number, Right?

I always wanted to be one of those people who aged gracefully. A person who took each year as an exciting new adventure; a gift. Though I'm not exactly surprised, I am having a bit of a hard time accepting that I'm getting older. Like most things in my life, I am a bit of a control freak and lack the innate ability to just, go with the flow. I have an awesome yoga shirt that dons this phrase. But it's more of a reminder for myself than a proclamation to others of how I actually live.

This whole, woe is me; it sucks to get old, thing came about because of that wonderful technology we know and love as, FaceTime. I used to think it would be so cool to be able to see the person you're talking to on the phone back when JEM was decades ahead of her time. That's the right 80's cartoon, right? Either way, all I could think as I talked to my husband all the way on the other side of the world was, man, is THAT really what I look like?! I look so homely and OLD. I look old. I used to be so photogenic! What the heck happened? What are all those lines on my face? When did they appear?

Now, the husband wasn't looking all that great himself, but it was 6am and he had just rolled out of bed...in China. I think he gets a pass. To make myself feel the tiniest bit better about my looming birthday in 6 weeks, 6pm isn't exactly my prime either as I race around the kitchen feeding the dogs and dodging food that the kids decide they don't like even though 5 minutes prior they were jumping up and down screaming for it, all while trying to think of something I feel like eating so I have enough energy to make it through the nighttime stretch of baths and the torturous bedtime "routine". No, I'm not this crazed every night but like I said, my husband is 1/2 way around the world and the "single-parenting" thing is NOT my forte! I am in constant awe of how my mom did it or how any single parent does it, especially with little ones, all on their own, ALL the time. Truly amazing. And here I am all bummed about getting older! So lame. And I just used the word "lame"! What decade is that from anyway?! Good grief.

I'm off topic though. Lame or not, this is about me! Me looking old to be exact. I can't lie. It gets me a bit down. No reason not to admit it just because there are real issues going on in the world and getting older is one of a very few things that is inevitable in life. Sure, lots of people try to fight it with creams and surgery and who knows what else some people are choosing to inject into their bodies. But in the end, we all get old... and eventually, we all die. It is what it is. It's life. We can't change it, so why not just accept it. Embrace it.

This is where my brain battles itself with being that person who embraces it and goes with the flow, because logically there's really no other way to live, and the person who looks in the mirror and contemplates buying hair dye, starting to wear make up, or maybe at least doing my hair each day and then notices the calendar and that looming birthday and then pouts about it all. To be clear... I'm only going to be 36. I know, "I'm a baby". But for some reason 36 feels like 40 to me. Probably because it tips me on to the side of being closer to 40 than 30. And 40 feels old, even though I know it's not. Not even close.

I can't help but remember my mom's big 40th bash. I came home from college with a few friends to celebrate. She has a Halloween birthday so it was a costume party, and truly a great time. I was 20! Yes, she was a young mom and I didn't have my first baby until 31, but still, it's difficult to look at my babies and realize that will be my big bash in just a handful of years and to picture this memory of my mom turning 40. And, yes, yes I know 50 is the new 40; 60 the new 50, blah, blah... but with each new pain, each new line, each new gray hair, I think, that's a bunch of BS! I FEEL old. And if I feel old now, how the heck am I going to feel at 70?

Many people still comment on how young I look. Yet, I rarely get carded anymore. Aren't you supposed to look at least 35 to not be carded? I know I AM 35, but if I look "young", I imagine my 20's. So card me, dammit! Ironically, I used to get rather annoyed when I'd have to break out my ID all the time. I even licked and stuck my license to my forehead in Vegas while celebrating my 23rd birthday because I was getting stopped every couple steps I took. Yes, I just cringed at the thought of licking my license. It was funny at the time.

They say you're only as old as you act and perhaps that's the problem. I feel like I went from this wild child in college, and even a bit beyond, to this ultra responsible, worrying, no fun, I need to be in bed by 10:30 or I'm going to be a grump tomorrow, old lady! There are many reasons for this and I can analyze the why of it all until the cows come home but the reality is, I get mad when my husband says I'm no fun because the truth is, I'm really not. I worry so much about my kids and all the awful things that could happen but statistically are very unlikely or how I'm going to screw them up or how to protect them from the infinite ways life can strip them of their innocence and glory days of childhood too young that I have forgotten to be me. I've forgotten how to have fun. I get so hung up on cleaning the dishes after each meal and errands or what to cook and doctor appointments and taking care of the dogs, who really need walked and more attention, and trying to vacuum all the dog hair and crumbs from the floor and changing diapers or wiping butts and doing laundry, forget about actually folding it... that not only have I forgotten to be me and how to have fun as a grown up but I forget to actually HAVE fun and play with my kids! No wonder I feel old. Playing is the one thing that keeps you young. As my kids would say, silly me.

Dancing with them and running around and just being goofy. Letting them get messy with painting or bubbles or even just water... I simply forget, or avoid it all together because I see it as extra work, or one more thing I have to do. And frankly, I'm just too tired to add anything else to the never ending to-do list. Worse, I get mad at them if they do one of these things that is so much fun and it makes more of a mess for me. So instead of embracing it...I zone out. I check email or facebook or run another errand and at night just veg out looking something up online or watching some stupid tv show. I don't do the things I really want to do like my home yoga practice, read, write... I forget to be me. In place of being me, I just sit and get old. Then I wonder why I feel old. And I see myself on FaceTime and wonder when I started to look old. And then I pout about it.

And now I sit here and wonder how I can change this cycle and get back to being me. To having fun. To continue my never ending challenge of letting go and simply LIVING. Enjoying life. I know ME is a 180 from the me I think of 10, even 5 years ago, but I still miss and need her. My family needs her. I don't need the wild me, just a little fun to keep me young. All it takes is changing something to break the cycle. Any cycle. Maybe coming here tonight is that something, since each night comes and I tend to say, oh, I'll write tomorrow... Though I have a feeling I need more. Something I can do each day, something that will form a more lasting change. I need a sankalpa assignment! I loved the one I did during my yoga teacher training. Perhaps it's time I return to that place that made me happy and free and find myself again. Not perhaps. It is time. I has to be. Otherwise, I'm going to actually BE old one day and regret not living!

5774

L'shana Tova Tikatevu... May you be inscribed (in the Book of Life) for a good year.

 

Miriam awakening us with the shofar!
Picture credit Jacob's Bones

 

Saying shana tova during Rosh Hashana seems like such a simple phrase. No more powerful than "good morning" for instance. Often equated to Happy New Year, yet in reality it's such a profound and moving sentiment. Wishing someone life for another year. And not just any life, but a good life. Isn't that what we all want each day? Simply a good life? Something that isn't always so simple.

I love the High Holidays because they are so powerful. The simple becomes meaningful and intense. The mundane that often accounts for our daily comings and goings suddenly reminds us that there is purpose in every step. Every word we speak can impact us and those around us. Every thought we have emits an energy into the world that has a ripple effect. Every breath we take literally IS life.

The High Holidays make us stop and remember that there is more than just us and our simple lives of work and carpooling and soccer practice and swimming lessons. There is more than just us and our pains, our sorrow, our grief for those we have lost. These days remind us that we are just a tiny part of this immense universe, yet our place here is essential and it means something. Even if we are unsure of what.

While I tend to be reflective about my life and ways I can better myself throughout the year and I also tend to be brutally hard on myself when I don't live up to my own expectations of humanity, love and compassion, such contemplation on a daily basis that the High Holidays evokes would drain us of life. I think. It would be all consuming to ponder our purpose and existence in the universe each moment of each day, 365 days per year. There must be balance in order to fulfill that "good life" this holiday wishes for each of us.

During the High Holidays I tend to be even harder on myself than I already am daily. My imperfections can crush my heart as I think back over the year about some of the awful things I've thought, said and done, even to those I love the most. I tend to forget to reflect on all the good. In a way that's okay since this is a time to repent, to ask family and friends for forgiveness. To ask God for forgiveness for all those times I didn't live up to the image God created me in. But we should never forget the good in each of us. The good is hope and hope is fundamental for improving.

The High Holidays are a time to create and renew personal vows of betterment. It's a time to remind us of who we desire to be and to actively work harder to become that person. Imagine if every single person took such a short period of time each year to do such a thing the kind of world this would be?! We truly would create a heaven on earth, as it was meant to be. Such a thought always makes me smile. Always gives me hope.

This is a time of year I push aside the reality of all the hate that exists. Of the wars and senseless deaths and murder. Of the horrific crimes against humanity that are taking place in far too many places even as I type right now. I can't think of those things. It is too overwhelming to think of how much work the world needs to be better. This is the one time each year I can 100% focus on being a better ME. A better mother. A better wife. A better daughter and friend. A better person. It's a time to be selfish in a way. For me, it is in the selfishness it takes to be a better person where one can achieve selflessness, which is precisely what this world needs.

While all of this is moving and powerful beyond measure, one aspect of the High Holidays I love and have been dwelling on this year is the annulment of past vows. Not vows like marriage vows, but more new year resolutions type of vows. There are a number of specifics regarding this annulment bit, but for me it's a relief to let go. I set new resolutions each year and each year I feel awful as I read all the things I promised myself I would do to be that better person and then never fulfilled. It's a chance to let go. To start new. To make new vows to myself, with God. To work harder to fulfill them this year. It provides me the opportunity to let go of past regret without guilt.

Ironically, this is the one part I struggle with the most! The High Holidays grant us this "pass", yet letting go of past guilt and regret remains my greatest challenge. It's possibly the most significant hindrance in my quest for being the best me I can be. And now I sound like a US Army commercial. Oy vey!

Seriously though. This year, instead of my usual list of lofty vows which I rarely keep, at least not for long, I've decided... as in at this moment I just decided... that my only vow will be, to let go. To believe in this little piece of the High Holidays, the annulment of past vows, and just. let. the. past. be. It may not be the traditional take on this annulment of vows thing. It certainly doesn't encapsulate what the High Holidays stand for. But trying to improve who I am each day so I can shine a brighter light into this world, which I see as desperately craving more light, certainly is what the High Holidays stand for. To me anyway. That and true repentance for all the wrongs I've done to not live up to that said light filled human being God wants me to be. And that of course.

So, just one vow this year. Easy. I mean, I've only been working on this particular part of myself for over a decade now. Well, this one vow plus writing more. And since you're reading this, I guess I'm starting 5774 off pretty well so far!

Jewish or not, I'd love to hear what you strive for to be a better you each day. In the end, it's all we really can be.

Namaste, Shalom and Shana Tova my friends!

 

Barbra Streisand singing Avinu Malkeinu. Breathtaking!

This song encapulates the High Holidays for me.

 

Mirror Image

I've found people have been irritating me more than usual lately. Or I should say, I'm allowing myself to be bothered by others words and actions. I'm choosing to get frustrated, angry, annoyed...

This isn't exactly a new occurrence. I've always had this love/hate relationship with the human race. Ironic since my career choice was therapy. Though I've changed gears a bit in how I help others find mental clarity, health and wellness through the beauty of yoga, I still chose to work with people. I still desire to see each person I know reach their full potential, to find fulfillment, happiness, and whatever it is their life was destined for. I still feel a part of my destiny is to be a resource for those who wish to use me as one in seeking their path of light and love.

All this makes me analyze my feelings all the more when I find myself so bothered by people and wish everyone could just be a bit more like my dogs, minus the barking at anything that moves and trying to eat strangers part. So basically these past couple weeks I've been stuck in my head psychologizing myself like a good former therapist would do when faced with such a dilemma.

My conclusion came to me the other day and solidified while watching Dexter the other night. No, I'm not a sociopath with an inherent need to kill bad people, sorry, poor foreshadowing on my part. Actually, it's so simple that the fact I still have over 30k in student loans staring me in the face every month makes me a bit nauseated. So, what's the deal? What did I realize? Wait for it....
Sorry, I couldn't resist that one.

Anyway, it turns out that my love/hate relationship with the human race is a mirror image of my love/hate relationship with myself.

Bam! There it is. Profound, I know.

Seriously though, because this is a serious matter. Every time I find myself feeling less than pleased with my fellow (wo)man I can find everything that upsets me about them within myself. A lot of it is from days long ago when, at times, I behaved very differently than I do now. As such, when I realize a person lies, no matter how small, I get very irritated. Angry. Depending on the lie, it can lead me to feel loathing and see red, as some say. Perhaps even feel a bit Dexter-esque! Mostly though, it's little lies from people I may not even be all that close to that have been annoying me. Maybe it's all the lies I hear from living with an alcoholic that combine to make a "little" lie that really doesn't matter weigh on me. Mostly though, I think that it's the fact that I used to lie in such ways.

Example... one time a friend and I didn't feel like studying for an exam so we spent our time concocting this elaborate story about getting a flat tire and being stuck in Pittsburgh and not being able to make it back to school until the next day. Then we were able to take the exam in an office which enabled us to "share" our knowledge. A flat tire? Seriously?! How did a professor believe that ridiculousness? In the grand scheme of life, it's not such a big deal, not like the lies I endure almost daily. Regardless, I don't like that I used to be that person. I don't like when others remind me of that person.

I find myself getting really upset when people talk about others. Known as Lashon Hara in Judaism. I used to be that person too. "hey, check out that shirt she's wearing." "Did you hear what so and so did last night?" "Can you believe... blah, blah..." Gossip is as bad as slander which is as nasty as any evil thing a person can do to another. Not only does it send out unnecessary negative energy that we then have to work extra hard to counter with some positive vibes for the universe, it's simply mean. You can say, stick and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, in your best na-na-na-na-boo-boo voice but it's simply not true. Words are our most powerful weapons against each other because we all have access to them. They CAN hurt beyond repair. Even if the person you're talking about never knows you spoke them, you know. They are in your heart; your mind. They may even be true. Gossip often is true. But that doesn't make it right.

I can't honestly say I never engage in lashon hara anymore, but I sure do my best to not only watch my words but also my thoughts. Just because I don't comment on how ridiculous someone looks aloud these days, doesn't mean I don't think it sometimes. Along with many other thoughts and sometimes spoken comments that could have been left unsaid. Hey, I'm human! And I shop at WalMart once in awhile. Enough said.

Bottom line though, thoughts are a powerful energy. They can hurt.... and they can heal. These days I try to focus on the healing energy, because God knows, we all need to heal in some way or another. 

I get irritated when people can't see the error of their ways. When they can't admit they were wrong. Now this one is probably my most challenging work in progress. However, like I tell my husband, I tend to stick with things I know. Which means, I often am right! I don't talk just to talk. Unless I've been drinking, which is rare these days. If I discuss something, it's usually because I am at least fairly well informed on the subject. If it turns out I'm not, I can admit that. But... when it's a topic I know I'm well informed on and I'm sure I'm right, I get very frustrated when others can't see it my way. You know, the right way!

This frustration is predominately with my husband and most often surrounding parenting. Now, I'm no expert on parenting, that's for damn sure. But, I am well educated regarding human behavior and human development and when it comes to my kids, no one knows them better. I am with them 24/7/365, so when I talk to him about the importance of consistency, among other fundamental concepts that pertain to raising them, and he continues to do what I feel is sabotaging everything I work on with them each day during his hour of fun time each night, I get VERY irritated.

A lot of this boils down to not feeling like he's an equal partner in the parenting process due to his drinking. This often goes back to my nasty thoughts which puts negative energy out in our grand universe and I don't like this about myself. I don't like it about others either. Thus, people have been irritating me more lately! All the negative energy spewing out into our world. It's sad really.

What I've found is that each time someone reminds me of something I loathe about myself, my disdain for the human race begins to seep back in again. It breaks through that barrier of love I work on each day and slowly builds back up with each reminder. I start to only see the reminders; all the parts of me I can't stand. And as a result, I can't stand anyone. Even every little thing my kids do drives me crazy. Which in turn makes me a craptastic mommy during those times, which simply builds on that self hate and loathing of all people who remind me I'm being a craptastic mommy! 

Whew. That's some viscous cycle, I know! Really, I know. 

Now, have no fear. I also have the solution. Mainly because I've had to break free from this many times. The only way out is love. It's that simple. And that hard. That's sort of the epitome of the whole love/hate relationship after all. 

The difference this time is that now I know why I find myself so darn pissed at others and why my faith in humanity wax and wanes so often. I have placed yet another valuable piece to the jigsaw puzzle known as my life. It's not that I can't stand people, it's simply that I can't stand myself, or parts of who I used to be anyway. I can't control other people and what they do. But, I can control myself and how I act; who I am. I learned that long ago and made some changes. Changes I'm happy with. Which means there is always hope for humanity. There's always hope for me. And as long as I dig deep, there's always love.

The most important love is for oneself. If you don't love yourself, you can't love others. Next would be for others, family, friends... But love for those you don't feel deserve it, enemies if you will. Now that's the epitome of love. If I'm not for myself, who will be for me? If I'm not for others, what am I? And if not now, when? Yes, it all goes back to the beginning. The words that changed me.

Ultimately, it's really the guilt from my past that I hate, not me. But guilt is a whole other nasty pile of dog doo doo for another post, another time. You love those cliff hangers, huh?!

In the meantime... this song is one of my top 5 favorite of all time and it tends to remind me of this whole love solution thing. So... enjoy, and may you all find and hold on to your love.

 

Life In A Photo

I recently received an email from shutterfly for 101 free prints. I get these fairly often and it's usually the only time I order prints. Well, then and when I cash in my Pampers reward points for shutterfly print packages and books. I checked the current photo box to see where I left off and realized it had been awhile. Like, nearly 6 months awhile! Yikes. This meant I had to pick and choose a bit more than usual. I still ended up ordering 145 pictures. Not bad considering there was probably near 1000.

My little orange envelope, or more of a large one,  arrived a short time after and I sat and went through the pictures over lunch one day. Each one I flipped though brought a bigger smile to my face and I even laughed aloud a handful of times at the memory of how silly my kids are. I tend to forget those moments when the majority of time they are wild little monsters with a mission to turn my hair grey much too young. For some reason, reliving these joyful, silly and fun memories reminded me of a part of a sermon my last Rabbi gave two or three years ago.

It clearly was one that resonated with me since I'm not sure I can recall any other sermon I've ever heard. In short, he talked about how he was always videoing his kids when they were younger because he didn't want to miss anything. At some point he realized that he was missing everything because he was behind the camera rather than fully in the moment, taking part of the memory being made. Clearly the point was to live in the present, to fully soak in the memories and the time you have with your family because kids grow up much too quickly and in the blink of an eye, they are adults themselves. He encouraged us to come out from behind the camera and join in the memory.

This idea was very difficult for me to accept. I live by my camera. I have for a very long time. I was editor and chief of my senior yearbook and took many of the photos myself. I even spent countless hours in the darkroom developing them the old school way. Yes, I was truly developing film in the darkroom. Not that I can remember how to do that now! I was devastated when I lost my camera at a fraternity party one night in college that held a couple nights full of memories which I certainly can't recall now. While negatives are obsolete, I keep all the ones I have in my fire proof box. I have photo boxes full of memories, albums from my childhood, and with modern technology as it is, my iPhone is always full.

Despite uploading the pictures from my phone to shutterfly, my computer and then saving to an external hard drive, I still get anxiety about deleting them. It's as if hitting delete will somehow erase them forever. I realize this is silly. The thing is, I've been a bit obsessed with having as many memories as possible in print since I did a research paper on Alzheimer's in high school and learned it has a hereditary component. My grandma was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's in her mid-forties. Yes, her FORTIES. She was one of the youngest ever to be diagnosed with this disease, at least then she was. She passed in her fifties when I was 12 years old.

I have memories of my mom taking care of her as she wondered at night. My Pap worked nights and took care of her all day. Since my mom and I lived with them at that time, she cared for her at night. I remember her in the nursing home... a blank slate. It was like there was no life in her eyes. She had lost everything, all her memories. While I know that once the disease progresses to that point pictures won't mean a thing, I can't help but hope if I ever met such a tragic fate that my pictures would keep that light of life in me. Even if just enough to make it easier on my family to bear.

Alzheimer's is truly horrific. To me, it's almost as if your life was pointless in a way. If you can't remember your life in the end, then what do you have? Perhaps the soul departs long before the end so your energy is out there somewhere and it's okay. It's not really possible to know. But it's one of my greatest fears. That I'll forget it all. That I won't remember the birth of my kids, their snuggles as I put them to bed, their giggles.

So, yes, I still live behind my camera. My fear of forgetting keeps me there. I try to soak in the times when I don't have my camera as much as possible. I try to breathe them in and let them fill every part of me so no matter what the future brings, I won't forget them. I often find I have no memories of many things. Most of college is gone. Much of my childhood consists of sporadic moments, often the more tragic and traumatic parts I recall and the rest are a few second clips here and there. Even now, I try to think back to important moments from the recent past and I feel too much is missing. I worry I killed too many brain cells in my college years or that my head is simply predisposed to forgetting. Either way, it scares the hell out of me.

My only solution is to snap away. So that's what I do. It may annoy some that my phone is always in front of my face or that I post new photos to Facebook regularly. Heck, my two and three year old even tell me enough is enough sometimes, or I get that fake, come on Mom, smile. But when those prints come in, I remember. And I smile. Maybe it's selfish of me. But I need those moments. I need those smiles.

It breaks my heart that my grandma met such a fate. It makes me cringe at what that nasty disease does to a person's mind. It's devastating how it impacts every person who knows and loves someone with Alzheimer's. The impact lingers for generations.

I pray I never need my pictures to fill me with life someday but rather be able to fondly reminisce over them throughout the years. And of course embarrass my kids with their bath and potty pictures or some other ridiculous thing they did that their future spouse will tease them about until they are old an grey. That's what parents are for, right?!

To me, that's the beauty of photographs. And videos. As long as they exist, so does the memory. It's concrete, you can see it. That sense of sight enables you to feel it and live it again. So my life is a photo. A whole heck of a lot of them in fact! But it's also right here and right now. I simply ensure memories last a lifetime, and then some. And I'm okay with that.

I sure don't remember this.
But this memory of 4 generations together always brings a smile to my face!

Celebrate Earth Everyday

Happy (belated) Earth Day!

To be honest, I think this day is silly. If everyday is not Earth Day then we've really lost touch with reality. I mean, without this place, we are sort of up the proverbial crick, ya know? Yes, I said crick. Creek just doesn't sound right to my Pittsburgh born and raised ears. I guess you can take a girl out of the Burgh but you can't take all the Pittburghese outta the girl!

Yes, I digressed.

Back to my point. Right... this obsessed with not being wasteful momma thinks Earth Day is silly. I know, oxymoron. I find it silly in the same way I find Valentine's Day to be silly. Of course it's wonderful to have a day where we are reminded to say "I love you" but if we aren't saying that to those we love each day, well, we are really missing the bigger picture here. Not to mention all the consumer waste that comes from that day. Maybe that's just me.

At least Earth Day has practical applications. It's an opportunity many wouldn't otherwise take to teach their kids or students about recycling and all the cool crafts you can make without spending unnecessary money or creating extra waste. It's a great day to plant your garden. We did the Sunday before. Maybe do a math experiment with water, showing your kids how much they (or you) waste of this invaluable natural resource when it's left running to brush their teeth. It's a great day to go to the zoo and see all the magnificent animals that bless this planet of ours and how they all contribute to the circle of life. The opportunities are endless but here's a list from a wonderful, inspirational and tear jerker of a post I read on Earth Day by Kissing the Frog.

In case you didn't realize, Earth Day is not today! It was Monday. But I'm just getting my mommy free time now. Which I'm spending writing this on my phone, as I sit at the mall Starbucks waiting for the stores to open. As if the i Pad wasn't annoying enough for typing up a post. All I need is my Clinique foundation. It's the only make up I wear and my acne is out if control so this is do or die for me. Yes, another digression. Perhaps I better drink this chai quicker and get my head on for the day!

Okay, back to my story that made me decide to write about Earth Day. It involves Starbucks. Now, I typically would never have anything negative to say about this place. Not just because they help keep me sane and awake but because it was the best company I ever worked for. However, I had an experience on Sunday that I must share. Mainly because was so ridiculous to me that it takes me back to my, "effin West Virgina" post and how I shake my head almost daily at the fact this PA girl now lives in the one state we all grow up making fun of! But also because it's a prime example of how people don't pay attention to how they can help our planet daily rather than crate unnecessary waste and harm.

So, I ran into the new Starbucks at target last Sunday. They had these awesome reusable cups for only a buck! A BUCK! Hot or cold reusable cups. Amazing. One can never have enough reusable coffee cups so I grabbed one, thinking, hey tomorrow is Earth Day so at least I did my one good deed for Mother Earth in case I forget. Not likely, but you never know. I order my iced soy chai, light ice. And THEN I watch the barista take a plastic cup and mark my order on it, set it down for the other barista to make and then set my new reusable cup next to it for them to use. She makes my drink and then tosses the unused plastic cup in the TRASH. The same cup that I spent an extra dollar to avoid doing just that when finished. No one thought twice. No one looked like that was the silliest thing ever. Well, maybe not EVER, but close. I left with my jaw a bit dropped unable to speak because I really couldn't believe that just happened.

In all fairness to my beloved Starbucks, a Target store Starbucks isn't a "real" Starbucks AND in all fairness to my current state, there are people everywhere that don't stop and think before they act. Like how I avoided saying stupid people? I wanted to but hey, everyone does stupid things from time to time. I sure do. Daily. So, I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt and think it was just a momentary lapse in using their brain cells to their full potential. Yet, two people were involved so it makes me question that theory. Either way. Another shake my head moment to chalk up for the books. Or blog inthis case.

Anyway, that's my story. A very long version of a silly little story about how we as humans continue to waste and not think twice a out how it is impacting this miraculous planet of ours. This may seem insignificant to many but if everyone does this each day, imagine the unnecessary waste! Compare that to every one who enters a Starbucks and grabs one of these $1 reusable cups.

 

We really can make a big difference doing the little things. Every. Day. 

Betty Crocker Madness

This is by far the longest I have gone without writing since I started this blog a little over a year ago. Which reminds me, I missed my bloggeversary! Oops. Oh well. These last three weeks have been a bit out of control.

If you follow me on Facebook then you have a good idea of all the hoopla that's been running me around these past 3 weeks like an even more insane mom than I already was! Rota Virus hit the kids while away for the week. Or a stomach bug that resembled it but not as bad as some horror stories I've heard or as bad as my step dad got it after we left. Two pipe breaks at the house. The sound of jet engines is still raging in our basement as the professionals continue their drying process and making their best efforts to not pull drywall out. To be honest, I wouldn't mind it getting redone!

On the plus side of things, our new fur baby has finally arrived! Nellie is as sweet as they come and also quite scared/skidish. She still won't eat much, 10 days later, and hides in our bedroom most of the time. She's afraid of Craig, really she's afraid of anyone but me! I guess the crazy kids running and yelling and mom running and yelling after them and our crazy boxer barking at anything or anyone that comes within 100 feet of our home and all these contractors in and out like a revolving door this past week... she's not quite sure what to make of this mad house! Hopefully she gets more comfortable soon. She's quite precious.

Getting used to her big brother Apollo!

Smelling good after her first grooming!



Bonding with Rylie. She sleeps with Caleb :)

Probably the most impacting part of our lives though has been some new diets! We saw the holistic doctor everyone kept recommending to me. He did muscle testing on the kids and I. Yes, I'm aware that modern medicine thinks this is nonsense and many would call him a "quack". That's another post for another day! Anyway, I've been on an antifungal and no nightshades diet while the kids are enjoying dairy and gluten free foods for two weeks.

My son also had his allergist appointment and it turns out that "quack" was right with at least part of it.... the boy is in fact allergic to dairy... and eggs, tomato, some outside mold spore and possibly cats and ragweed. Everything was mild to moderate (eggs being the moderate) so nothing to really worry about. He can probably get him off his prilosec and get his eczema cleared up if we avoid these things when possible, which was my goal.

So basically I've been like Betty Crocker on speed these past couple weeks and THAT is worth posting about. I would not call myself a cook by any stretch of the word. As a matter of fact I avoid it when possible. But, in my quest for us all to eat and live "cleaner" I'm doing my best. I also have been quite proud of myself with some of the things I've made, via recipe and even my own ideas, so I thought I'd share with you all! Or more pat my own back, but who's to say you won't enjoy some of this delicious foods too?!

I jumped right in with gluten free blueberry pancakes hoping to start these diets off with a bang. Technically I shouldn't have eaten them since the flour had potato starch in it (potatoes are nightshades) but I haven't been perfect on this adventure, that's for sure! This one was simple. I bought some gluten and dairy free pancake mix at the store and made it to recipe. Just added some frozen organic blueberries in there and cooked them using coconut oil. Kids gobbled them right up! Actually, Rylie has been eating much better these past two weeks and Caleb finally drinks milk since we swtiched to vanilla almond milk. Which means he needs to potty train A-sap because this boy is going through diapers like a newborn now that he finally drinks! I'm not complaining though. I'm just happy I finally found things that don't hurt their little bellies.

Tonight was make your own pizza night. Always a fun one for the kiddos! I got gluten and dairy free pizza crust and we made our own dough because all the store bought ones had egg. We substituted flax seed meal for egg so Caleb could enjoy it too. We mixed it all together with the electric mixer, a favorite part for Rylie! It was a bit more sticky than pizza dough should be but we just sprinkled some of our gluten/dairy free all purpose flour on the pizza pan and my hands and it turned out pretty good. Even with the veggie mozzarella cheese. The boy ate two pieces! He must miss his tomatoes. I'm hoping that allowing some of the foods he's allergic to in moderation will keep the reflux and eczema at bay as they've been notably better over the past week. I mean, every kid deserve to eat pizza, even if it isn't the tasty clog your arteries kind :) Anyway, here was the final product! Sadly, again, I can't enjoy because we put yeast in the crust but I did steal a taste.

Since I can't eat vinegar it's made eating salad's challenging. I was thinking of how sick I was of simply using lemon juice and olive oil so while I cut some strawberries for the kids lunch I had a brilliant idea! I pureed what was left of the strawberries, added some lemon juice and used that as my dressing. So good. Then I added some raw honey to what was left, blended it again and poured that onto our new popsicle molds... since we were down to one strawberry pop left. Mmmm Mmmmmm. Too bad I can't eat any sugar on my antifungal diet so I can't have them either, but I snuck a bite in. Have to make sure what the kids eat is good, right? The perks of being the mom :) If your kids are like mine and love treats, these will make you feel good about what you're giving them. (these ones are not mine but from the recipe linked below)

Give them a try!

 

I also made a yummy dairy, gluten and egg free meatloaf just in case the kids decided to give it a try. Caleb had a few bites but of course they didn't eat it. It doesn't specify gluten free in the recipe but oats are okay on this gluten free diet or you can buy the gluten free oats. It was quite tasty, even Craig agreed, so it will be added to our mix of meals from now on.

I've been the muffin momma, moreso than usual I should say. I make 3 batches in 10 days! It's my salvation when I'm craving bread products (obviously no yeast is part of antifungal!) Sadly, the last batch turned out nasty as I only had 3 instead of 4 bananas but since they were pretty big I thought it might work. Not so much. But, these recipes are good, when made right and not overcooked! AND, you can make them gluten free! I used oat flour for each of them and the gluten/dairy free all purpose flour for the ones I was down a banana. Maybe they didn't turn out well because of the different flour?

This morning I made walnut kale pesto. Only 5 ingredients and it passed the husband taste test effortlessly, despite him being quite skeptical. I asked if I should freeze some and he said "nah, it won't lat long." I think I'll try it on pasta for dinner tomorrow, maybe with some crackers or carrots for snack. The possibilities are endless! The best part is this is one you can make extra and freeze so you don't have to be Better Crocker every single day. I'm determined to eat this not so tasty on its own superfood as much as possible and this article gives many yummy looking ways to achieve that goal! Here's my first one...

Last but certainly not least are these insanely delicious treats. They taste like dessert but can be eaten for breakfast or snack or whenever your heart desires! I've made them three times now in less than 2 weeks. The last time (last night) I doubled up the recipe. The kids aren't interested in the way they look so they won't even try them which was fine by me because I ate them all myself with no problem! I used walnuts the first two times before I realized it said substitute almonds or pecans if you can't find hazelnuts (which I couldn't). These are to die for, in my opinion. I didn't drizzle with the coconut milk because as some of you may know, I despise coconut. Which sucks given it is so good for so many things. I'd imagine if you like coconut, adding that little touch would be truly heavenly though.

Here's the easy recipe, try them yourself!

Mine!

 

 

And this is the reason for my long absence! I promise not to leave you all hanging for such an extended time again but I think all this deserves a free pass for this one time, right?! Well, I'm off to find a chocolate zuchini bread recipe we all can enjoy! Back to our "quack" doc that has helped ease my chronic pain when no one else could, relieve Caleb's eczema and we are just about fully off of prilosec in this house...all in two weeks. If we don't test sensitive to any of these things anymore we should be able to just focus on the dairy and egg free for Caleb but I think I may stick with the gluten free as much as we can afford to since something about all this clearly is helping.

 

Let me know if you try any of these recipes. I'd be interested to hear if everyone else likes them too! If you have any to share please post in the comments for all to enjoy. And feel free to share this with your friends. 

 

Namaste.