16 weeks, round 2

in case you missed it, i recently announced my pregnancy with our second child.

i'm about 16 weeks pregnant and a couple of nights ago i felt our baby move for the first time. i felt a little "bump, bump" which--like most things these days--i assumed was just gas. until i pressed on the spot where i felt said bump and it promptly bumped me back! gas doesn't bump back. that's a baby!

now it feels so much more real, and i realize how silly it was to have treated my pregnancy the way i have for the past several weeks.

so let me backtrack to the moment i knew i was pregnant:

we had been on a long vacation and i was "late." nothing unusual. i started to think maybe i was pregnant, but i told myself i'd continue enjoying our vacation until i really worried about it.

then we got home, and one of the first things i did was to go out to our backyard and check on our veggie garden. this poor garden...it got bit by a late cold snap, and then flooded (multiple times), and it had been in sad shape all summer. but still we tended to it, watered it, pulled weeds, plucked off caterpillars, pruned, and pampered. we got a few sad tomatoes, some tiny peppers, and a whole bunch of basil and rosemary, which is hard to kill.

i walked over to our garden and was sure someone had played a cruel joke on us. we had DOZENS of tomatoes. from 3 to over 3 DOZEN. in ten days with no watering, no tending to. weeks later we would count 72 tomatoes.

it was then i knew. God spoke to me in that moment and said "you are entering a season of fruitfulness." my heart raced. i called to my husband. we sat there, counting tomatoes in awe. not long after that i told him to go to walmart and get a pregnancy test, which sure enough confirmed our pregnancy.

my reaction (and continued reaction) was far short of elation. here's a few reasons why:

1. my daughter has proved to be a challenging toddler. not that she's bad or defiant or anything like that, but she's high energy. curious. independent. fearless. she keeps me on my feet. the one comment i get from people that far outweighs any other is how "active" she is. i wondered how i was going to make it through another first trimester like the one i had with her all while chasing her around. in fact, my husband and i had just, only days before, agreed that we would be totally fine not actually "trying" to get pregnant until she was around 4, that way she would be in school and out of the house most of the day while i raised a second baby. did we have a "plan"? not really. but we were comfortable with how things were before we knew i was pregnant.

2. i asked my husband a few days later: "what does this mean for me? am i entering a season of non-stop motherhood? because i don't know if i'm ok with that." what i mean by that is, i've still worked part-time from home while raising june. not a lot. some days i don't work at all, and some days i have to cram a lot into one day to finish up a project. it's certainly not easy, but it keeps me sane. it keeps me from feeling like i'm "just a mom." as much as i can justify that being a mom is the absolute hardest job, it still feels unimportant to me personally, in my position. i know that's not true--not in the slightest, but i have a hard time convincing myself of that. i've struggled with that a LOT.

3. --and here's the big one-- i worried way too much about what announcing this pregnancy would mean to others. there are more women than i can count, many i know personally, who have experienced trouble and heartache with pregnancy and fertility. it's a borrowed hurt and fear i've held onto with no justification whatsoever. here are these hurting, struggling women who want nothing more than a healthy pregnancy, and apparently my husband can look at me the right way and i get pregnant. with two "happy accident" pregnancies, it's obviously not an area we struggle with. there's no way that i could tell these people that i was pregnant and hide the anxiety i was facing. that would be totally unfair to them. and i had a lot of guilt about that.

then my husband reminded me of where i sat 4 years ago and the uncertainty i faced with my own fertility. i had forgotten. i once sat and listened to a doctor tell me "i want you to come in next time and be pregnant" because it was fairly possible that i had a condition that could jeopardize my ability to bear children in the future.

now, while i don't (and didn't) take to heart the presumptuous diagnosis of one man (even though it cost me my insurance coverage for a while--now that i'm still peeved about), my husband reminded me that i had every right to be thankful for this pregnancy. the same right as anyone else. not only due to personal circumstance, but because the bible clearly states that children are a gift. any gift from God should be held in high regard and put us in a state of gratitude.

not only did this ring true, but it made me realize that i had been unrightfully anxious over this pregnancy. i don't know if i had even once until that point (several weeks in) stopped and thanked God for this gift. and for this season.

one of my strongest christian mentors once explained to me the meaning and importance of accepting seasons, and it has stuck with me so strongly since then. but sometimes i forget. i forget to realize the season i am, accept it, and be grateful for it--no matter the high or low. i've had incredibly low seasons that brought me the closest in my relationship with God.

we face struggles that others don't. we are strangers to the seasons others are in. some seasons of others we can't even begin to understand. and some of ours may be totally foreign to others. it's not our job to compare seasons. it's our job to recognize them and remember what it was like to be in the lows, and what we might have overlooked in the highs.

we are allowed to rejoice in fruitful, good seasons. we don't have to be hush-hush just because someone else can't find it in their season to share in our rejoicing. that's fine. but we can be sensitive to them, and we can remember what it was like in low seasons. we can be a system of support and prayer.

so whatever this new child brings into our lives, i am excited about it. i can say that with truth at this point. i am glad i was able to see past the silly fears i had that were totally unwarranted. i can only imagine God's frustration with me! to give such a gift and then for me to act like i did.

it is a gift. it is wonderful. and i accept it gladly and with gratitude.

over christmas, my sister invited me to a musical performance some friends of hers put on at their home and invite their friends and church members to be a part of. this family--y'all. there are eight kids. EIGHT. and each one of them brings an integral part into the family. they are close. they are loved. when i met the parents of these children and saw how friendly and joyful they were, i knew it could all be ok. i knew that mom probably had days where she locked herself in the bathroom just so she could cry alone. i knew she probably had nights when as soon as her husband was home she got in the car without any explanation and drove off just to sit in silence somewhere. i knew she had days where she probably thought she couldn't do it anymore. i knew she probably lost her cool and regretted it. and yet, there she sat, long past the toddler days, watching her children come together and put together a performance to bless their friends and family. the pride she must have felt. the overwhelming gratitude.

i can be a mom like that. i can. i don't have to have it all together. i don't have to act sane on days when i'm not. i know, that just as he has with only one kid, God will give me just what i need to get me through, even if that's the wisdom to call someone and tell them i need help (which i've done...although probably not enough!)...no matter how many happy accidents we have :)

on my birthday, my husband and i even had a conversation about having "more kids than the average family." what?! crazy people! someone out there has to take it upon themselves to remind me that i said this when i'm pregnant with my fourth child and crying in a corner.

(i'd like to stop here a minute and say that there's this publix commercial that airs around thanksgiving, and it highlights all of the things that can go wrong at a family holiday gathering. but at the root of it all are very full and very happy homes. full and happy homes--that must be the envy of every mother...or maybe just pregnant mothers. i don't know. all i know is i saw that commercial, internally wept like a child, and told my husband "we're going to publix--right now-- to buy all the things! right now!" do not bring up this commercial around me. i will cry. i'm pregnant! it's the hormones! it's natural!)

we are thankful for all your congratulations and well wishes and prayers. and know that if it's just not your season to be joyful with us, then i understand. i've been there, too.

i'll be documenting this pregnancy on my blog, just as i did with the last. because all my children deserved to be celebrated. (i just hope i make it around to blogging as much as i did last time!)

until, next time friends. i'm sure you can't wait to read all about my pregnancy acne ;)

lost at sea

i don't know that i can accurately put into words what i've been feeling over the past several weeks.

it's been oncoming in waves and i feel like each time, the swells are bigger and longer. i feel...

like a foreigner...

in my new town. in my old city. in my body. in my mind.

in who i was. and am.

like i am no longer the person i used to be. upon first realizing this, i thought: simple enough. i'll just start being the person i used to be. 

i don't think that's even possible. i don't think anyone can just put themselves in reverse and be who they once were. your mind has changed, your circumstances have changed. everything has changed.

have you ever read the book the awakening by kate chopin? i read it in college in an english lit course. that book, professor, and whole class (which i took during a summer mini-mester to get out of the way) ended up impacting me more than i ever expected. without giving away too much, the book is about a woman--whom married with kids--has sort of a life crisis in which she begins to feel trapped by her life. in short, she acts out, trying to become more true to herself in an effort to hold onto what she knows to be 100% of herself, and no one else. for some reason, i was completely and totally sucked into that book. i loved it so much that i begged the professor to allow me to write my final paper on the awakening instead of the assigned book. she was a little shocked at my request (i don't think that happens very often), but she allowed it. and i got a 100 on the paper.

it always puzzled me as to why i connected to that book so much--i was just a college student. perhaps because i was on my own journey at the time. but now i feel like--without even reading it again--i'm connecting to it all over again. it sits on a bookshelf in my garage collecting dust, and i keep thinking about edna. and i know how that book ends. feeling an even stronger connection to her now makes me afraid of where all these feelings are taking me. not to say i feel the pull to the things she did (at all). that's certainly not it. but what selfish mistakes am i at risk for making? what will happen to my family if i allow my mind to wander to those places?

i hope i can find the kind of company here that does not judge me for what i'm about to say. hopefully you know me well enough to know that one of my highest values in life is family time. but...

being a mom can rob you of your identity.

don't lie to me and tell me it doesn't. everywhere i go i am a mother. it doesn't matter in what company or setting. i recently went to a work reunion party of sorts at an architecture and design firm where i was employed for a while. everyone knows that we had a kid, and that i'm home with her. and that's the only thing they could find to talk to me about. it didn't matter that i told them i still do design work and that i take freelance jobs from home. i might as well have not said anything about that at all. i felt like the person i used to be was forgotten. i felt like if i was still her i would be more interesting. have more to say. more people to listen.

and you can say what you will about that. perhaps it's the nostalgia in people that see my little toddler running around and part of their past wants to reach out to my present and relive the days when their older children were small. and i can appreciate that. it makes me hopeful even, that one day i'll look back on these days and cherish them.

don't mistake this as regret. i wouldn't trade it. someone would have to teach me how to breathe again if i lost my husband and child.

but every now and again i start to feel lost. an ache for the freedom of 21 year old me. even 25 year old me. the identity i used to have is somehow belittled down into something else--placed into some box, lumped into some sum, and shuffled together like a stack of papers where you're not you anymore. you're just one among the many. insignificant. unappreciated. forgotten.

have you felt it, too?

i once had talents and esteems. i was known for things, praised for things, valued for this and sought after for that. and then something happened--i am still all of those things, but somehow everyone seems to have forgotten (well, most people anyway). do you know what it feels like to be good at something?

several times in the past and present i've tried resurrecting those talents, only for them to end in total and complete failure. i still feel like me. and i see the old me. and it feels like the me now is an impostor of the me i used to be. and nobody sees. nobody cares. nobody wants to know the me i used to be.

so i called out "why, God? why have you allowed me drift into this nothingness? how did i get into this place? why is it so different? why is it so hard? what am i called for if not for this?? why are you giving me dreams that end in failure?"

silence.

i don't think he liked that question.

so i thought to myself about what was so different about back then, except for that i wasn't married with a kid. and sure that's a big difference. but maybe, after my kid is asleep, maybe for those that don't know i'm a mom i can still be that person? why is that so hard? what is so different about who i am.

and the answer:

back then, i didn't have God.

not that he wasn't there. not that, he didn't even give me dreams or a path then. he probably did. but for different reason.

but, see now....now i've opened that door of communication. most of the time i like to close it again. and then, of course, open it only when i have something to ask.

this past sunday at church, my pastor spit out a phrase that might have well been the end of his sermon. because i stopped listening after that.

THEY WANT A SAVIOR NOT A LORD!

daggers. daggers straight in my stomach.

that has been me. that has been me this whole damn time. (sorry for that, there. i try and keep it clean but sometimes there's no other word that works)

see, there was a long phase in my life where i needed people, and then things, and then people, and then God to lean on. i had to take care of myself and fill my life with dreams and goals, or else there were other things that had the potential to ruin me. now i have a family. a husband and a child who need me. and a world out there that God has given me a glimpse into so that with no clean conscience could i just live the life of a self-absorbed young adult. for the most part my identity lies within them.

perhaps...perhaps the talents and esteems of old me are dying because they need to. maybe they're dying because life is springing up elsewhere. and if maybe, i could find some way to let go and not worry about making sure the old me has left a legacy so that people don't forget my old talents...

then just maybe i can leave the place where i learned to crawl, and then walk, and then run...

so that he can put me somewhere else to learn and crawl again.

perhaps my identity lies in who GOD wants me to be, and not who i used to be. because my life before him--no matter how far i stray (and trust me it has been far)--was life without him. period. why would i want to return to godless? any desires i have for that old life are selfish ambition and pride rising up from a dark place within me that doubts God's good will and LORDship over my life.

at this point i don't know where that new place might be, because i am still wrestling with letting go.

i still feel like i'm lost and floating, asking God to show me the way, but deep within knowing he can't take me anywhere without me first letting go.

people throw around that "let go and let God" thing so much. a great reminder, sure, but a task only few can master. i wish people would stop saying it unless they've actually done it. we are worldly, we are tempted, we are disobedient, emotion-driven, pleasure-seeking, and peer-pleasing. the only way to have a chance at overcoming that is to have a LORD--not just a savior. not a dictator, not a slave-driver, not a rule-setter; a loving, hand-in-hand, gets down and fights for us kind of God, who puts us where he does because he sees what we don't, and knows what we never will.

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. 16 Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. -Hebrews 4:15-16

it is that confidence i lack and ache for. so often when we begin to feel overcome and shameful of our wanderings, we do not approach the throne at all. just as adam and eve hid from God in the garden. oh to have confidence! even in one thing. the most important thing. because if there's one sea i want to be floating in, it's a sea of mercy and grace--not this one.

if you're out there floating like i am, don't be discouraged, friends.

i am thankful for all of you who can read this and know that it is only with complete honesty and transparency that i bring these words to a page out there for anyone to read. because in real life, it's not my nature to just sit down with someone and say "let me tell you of my struggles" because i know people have their own. but what in this world are we if we don't support each other? the support of a friend is all that matters, even if they can offer no advice.

you'll get no pretending from me--no high horse to sit on, no problem-free sunny world.

we've all been there.

please private message me if you ever need to get something off your shoulders but feel you would be judged if you were honest. one thing i can do is listen non-judgmentally.

and one thing i'll always be is honest about where i've been.

18 months

preface: my daughter is now actually 19 months. i wrote this a month or so ago when i was having a pretty rough week with her. i didn't publish it because sometimes i think people bore of blogs about raising kids. but, after i sat down and read it, i realized i had already forgotten those days i wrote about. the things i thought were permanent ended up just being a phase. now, just a month later, we're in new stages, having left the old behind. it made me recall what people always tell you: time flies. it flies whether you wish it away or not. it flies on bad days, and on the days you want to last. i go through stages where i can't write enough, and ones where i can't get inspired at all. but i am glad that i write. because parenting is truly a roller coaster: constant ups and downs--little ones, big ones, smooth patches where you get to catch your breath. and ones where you want to cover your eyes and hold onto someone. it's an adventure. a grand adventure worth documenting. even if it's just for me.

enjoy!

***

holy. cow.

i think if there's one thing that i would have to say about parenting, is that it must come from God in appropriate dosages. we're in a bit of a rough sleeping patch right now (and there's been a lot of those lately) and all i can do is be thankful that i finished the work i had to do for the day and that i still have leftover time to sit down and blog for a bit.

on days when i drag my screaming toddler out of the farmer's market in the rain (on a day when--of all days--no one offers to help carry my groceries to the car), i think "how do moms of multiples do it?" i read another blog once that came from a mom of multiples and her answer basically boiled down to needing, asking, and accepting more help. must be. because that's the only logical answer i can come up with. the job gets tougher, you ask for help, and it's given out in the appropriate dosages.

my daughter--my spirited, funny, loud, curious, and independent daughter--was a good baby. i will admit, yes, we had it easy. by the time i returned to work at 8 weeks, she was sleeping 7-8 hours a night. she didn't cry much, no gastrointestinal issues, and was generally very happy. she was one of those babies that made people say "just wait--your next one will be a terror!"

{side note: why do people say that?! no, seriously. who goes around speaking things like that over people?? it's something i'll never understand.}

but now... now the toddler years are upon us. taking her anywhere is a battle. restaurants? out. grocery shopping? a joke. malls? well let's just say everyone will know that we are there. and she's not even two!! or THREE! which i sometimes hear is worse than two!

lord help me.

and the sleep. i think it's the one thing we parents are concerned with the most. probably because it's a prized possession. every night this week i've been up at least once with our daughter, doing what i can to soothe her to sleep from whatever it is--teething is my guess--that's waking her (and i can't tell you how grateful i am for extended breastfeeding in times like these--those nighttime sleepy endorphins probably save a lot of laps around the house, especially for a baby who HATES to be rocked). for this reason i try and stay away from mommy forums, especially ones where sleep is a commonly discussed subject. because everyone has advice and everyone has problems. i find it's best to just take your kid as it is, do what works best for you, and leave everyone out of it. and me? well. i could be napping right now, but sleep likes to play this cruel joke on you where you're not tired until 8pm, and if you even try to take so much as a 30 minute power nap during the day, you'll be wired until 11 or 12. and then your 22 pound, crazy-haired 6am wake-up call comes just a little too soon. a terrible cycle.

but as much as i can tell you how this is the hardest job i've ever done, there are so many things i enjoy about watching her go from a sweet little good-sleeping baby, to this little brain with a unique personality.

i have dogs. two of them. and i've had dogs my whole life. i'm definitely a dog person. and i guess when you're used to raising dogs, there are times when you treat raising a kid like training a dog (not something i'm super proud of, but i'm hoping someone out there can identify with this). repetition, reward, backtracking, giving up. and then one day, out of the blue, everything you've been trying to get your kid to learn, she suddenly knows it like she's been doing it her whole life.

this week was body parts and new words. months and months of "where's your ear" and "what is this?" with nothing but a giggle or frustrated wail before running off to empty my tupperware cabinet. this week, i asked her what cheese was. she said "chissss!" i asked her where her nose, ears, eyes, mouth, and teeth were. she pointed to all of them. we normally rely on whining, grunting, distressed guessing, and baby sign language as primary forms of communication (i remember this with my younger sister--my parents would come to me in frantic pleading: "dana--PLEASE tell us what it is that jennifer wants!!") well, today, we discovered that with the right prompting, when we ask her a question, she will reply with a simple "yes" instead of arms flailing like a monkey and excited grunts. like a daggum pro, y'all.

my goodness, she's becoming a person.

and she'll "chat" on anything that slightly resembles a cell phone.

and we have this comforter in our guest room with berries on it. she pretend-picks the berries and makes gulping sounds while "eating" them. and then she feeds them to us.

we (finally) taught that loud mouth of hers how to whisper.

she wipes herself with toilet paper (just mimicry, over her diaper, of course).

if we go on a walk and see other people approaching from a distance, she holds out her hand in that southern neighborly wave-ish fashion and rattles off some sort of jibberish in a very projective voice. like she's saying "hey guys! great night for a walk, huh?! yeah, it's really cooled off!" it's moments like these when i realize that only upon immediate passing that i would just simply lift my head and say "hey." she is her father's daughter.

she waves at airplanes and says "heyyy!" she makes objects pretend to be FA18 hornets (the blue angels) making a pretty impressive fly-by sound. before i had children, i wondered why people went to all the trouble to take young children to places and events that they wouldn't remember. when my 18 month old makes sounds like a blue angel jet, i know why. they are sponges. they are impressionable. and everything counts. everything matters.

with as rough as this week has been, it's also made me excited for what's in store. i can't wait until we can have actual conversations. until she's in that "helpful" stage where she wants to help me do things. or when she wants to do things herself (which i predict a lot of). i don't mean to wish away the present, or be naive to the troubles that come with a developing toddler personality, but looking back at where we started to now...

it blows my mind. if i really stop and think about it.

when babies are born and parents say "we made a person!" they don't actually mean that. what they really mean is, we made a beating heart, a tiny human that needs us for every basic need...that they also happen to be instantly in love with.

days like today--these are the days when i think "we made a person!" and mean it. she's her own person. and the more i find out who that person is, the more i'm intrigued. because there's an instant love with having a child. and then there's the love that grows on you. similar to the love that grows on you when you start dating "the one". every day you find out more and more and more and every day you're more attached, more intrigued, and more excited for what the future holds.

it is truly the greatest adventure we've ever been on.

why i miss pensacola

if you've ever visited fairhope, you were probably instantly charmed by it, just like i was. it's beautiful, small, right on the water, has a funky little downtown surrounded by acres upon acres of rolling hills and farmland. there's no doubt it has appeal. i was in love with it for a long time.

so much so that i couldn't wait to leave pensacola. the town where i spent 5 years of my life. i probably spent a good year or two daydreaming about life in fairhope.

well, as the sayings go

hindsight is 20/20....

and

the grass isn't always greener on the other side....

we came to fairhope for good reason. no doubt it was a smart move in the direction of "the american dream." good schools, low crime rate, higher pay. and most importantly, my husband has a good job here.

but on our first drive eastbound on interstate 10 after our move, when we passed the pensacola exits, i burst into tears at the thought of never taking that road home again. even still, it doesn't feel like our move is permanent. every place i've ever left i was at total peace with closing the door to that chapter. i packed, i moved, and i moved on. (well, ok, i do miss auburn a lot, but not in a way that it feels like i'm returning "home" when i visit.) not so much with pensacola.

and people are perplexed to hear this. they can't imagine that living in fairhope would somehow be less pleasing than living in pensacola. after all, pensacola is hot, it has one of the largest populations of homeless per capita, it's a hub for sex trafficking and meth use, it's one of the poorest counties in the nation, hurricanes hit and some people never recover, the drinking water is terrible, cancer rates are suspiciously high, there's not a lot to do besides go to the beach, crime is on the rise, etc. doesn't sound appealing does it? you'd be surprised.

so. entertain my words for a moment and allow me to explain.

1. pensacola welcomes newcomers. it's a navy town, a beach town, a college town, and has a few small industries. it's used to people coming and going, the ebb and flow of strangers moving in and friends moving away. i moved to pensacola without knowing a soul (well, ok, i knew one person but it's not like we ever hung out just the two of us--we had a lot of mutual friends). and although there was an adjustment time, i grew out of the loneliness phase pretty quickly. i went through a drive-thru late one night and was astounded at how nice the guy was when he asked me what i wanted to drink. southern hospitality thrives in pensacola.

2. the beach. pensacola's best kept secret. everyone knows it has a beach--many are surprised it has much else. but not everyone knows that it is probably the most beautiful beach that you can find on the gulf coast. even a few miles in either direction towards destin or gulf shores, you won't find pensacola's paradise-like beaches. it just ain't the same.

3. the people. like i said, southern hospitality thrives in pensacola. bad food service was rare, nearly everyone is friendly, and i often found myself in conversation with total strangers. in general, i'm an introvert. i don't like crowds, and i sweat profusely in new social situations. however, when i am put in situations where i don't know many people, i can force myself to take on extrovert tendencies in order to not be the stick-in-the-mud my family likes to make fun of me for being as a child. so, when i got invited to community events, i went, i met people, and i had great conversation. i truly enjoyed my (pre-kid) late evenings in downtown pensacola. i didn't party; i didn't bar hop--i usually sat on a front porch somewhere and mingled with pensacola's finest.

and, i've mentioned before that i always had good neighbors. you'd be surprised how hard that is to come by these days.

4. the art community. fairhope likes to pretend it's an artists' community. HA! they just have enough money to take a hobby and make somewhat of a business out of it, not really worrying about profit or making a living. not that i haven't met true artists in fairhope--i have. great ones. but i met a lot more in pensacola. people that inspired my own creativity and made me miss the hours upon hours i spent at an easel with a paintbrush in my hand. i will say, disappointedly, that gallery nights in pensacola have turned into somewhat of a free-for-all, i'll-pretend-to-be-interested-in-your-art-if-you-have-free-booze, kind of thing. it used to be pretty cool. sometimes it still is.

5. the history. pensacola is (arguably) one of the first civilizations in america. i mean, old. i have lived in both of pensacola's historic districts and i would do it 100 times over. it didn't come without it's challenges, but there is nothing like walking down the streets of an old and established neighborhood. every house is different, and some houses still have the horse tie poles out front--you know, from when people took a horse to their friend's house. what?! how cool is that?! history, people! there's nothing like it. i walked the streets of my neighborhood countless times and it never got old. trust me, the appeal of a brand new house in suburbia is wearing off quickly.

have you ever taken a history tour of pensacola? i know it sounds boring (and maybe i'm a bit of a history buff at heart), but i'd say it's worth it. i think it's important to know where you came from and who came before you.

6. the food. hi my name is dana and i am a foodie. i hate most chain restaurants. i love to support local economies. and i love good food. you know that saying "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels"? lies. lies straight from the pits of salad-eating and low-fat diet hell. there are meals from years ago in pensacola that i still remember. now don't get me wrong--i also like to eat healthy. it's a big part of our lifestyle. but denying yourself a delicious and innovative meal for the sake of dieting? well, it's just silly. if it's good enough to remember for years to come, then it's worth it. and i can say, without a doubt, i've eaten some of the best meals of my life in pensacola. when someone asks me where to eat in pensacola, they are not usually prepared for the answer i have to give them. or the enthusiasm with which i describe the food ;) do not talk to me if you ate at olive garden on your anniversary or birthday. with the delicious local fare abounding in pensacola, there is just no excuse.

7. the traditions, celebrations, and festivals. i have a terrible thing to admit to you. this year--yes, as a non-pensacola resident--was the first year i saw the blue angels show on the beach. all the other years it either got rained out, i was working, pregnant, or with a newborn. and we finally made it. and let me tell you something: it was incredible. it made me want to double fist pump and shout "yeah, 'merica!" if you don't go to any other event, make it to see the blue angels. but if you're like me and it just isn't in your favor, there are tons of other things to do: art festivals, parades (mardi gras is actually pretty big), cultural celebrations, evenings in old seville...all totally worth it. get out! see your town!

8. the blend of people. you know how some cities and towns have a "look"? i don't think pensacola has that. there's not a single defining group of people that is pensacola. we have it all. it's not as much of a cultural mix as some other larger urban areas, but for it's size, pensacola has a lot of different types of people: navy people, students, hipsters, hippies, beach bums, snow birds, deep south faithfuls, cultural and ethnic mixes, old money, new money, no money, and transplants from all over. you can be yourself and not blend in or stand out.

9. the trains. this probably wouldn't make everyone's list. after all, the trains arguably bring about a lot of negatives to pensacola. but after years of hearing trains all night long, they got to be a soothing sound of home. we could even pick out the different drivers. like there was this one "happy horn" guy that seriously was a little too active with his whistle blowing. those were the only times the train got to be a little obnoxious...but in a funny way. like, "here comes happy horn again..."

we were having dinner in downtown pensacola a few weeks ago and a train went by. i instantly lost my train of thought (no pun intended) and warmly exclaimed "oh, the train!" probably an odd reaction to some, but my husband and i instantly shared the same fond memories. now, i hear cows, donkeys, and frogs. not a bad trade, but i'll always love the sound of a train.

10. the helping community. if you want to know the true heart of pensacola, you should have seen it after the flood this year. i was moved to tears at the community efforts to get the town back on it's feet. i was heart-broken, humbled, and inspired all at the same time. there are several waterways that run through baldwin county, and this community experienced flooding of it's own. but (with the exception of my husband's beard club) i didn't hear of any community efforts to help those affected. i can't help but wonder why.

pensacola also has some very poor areas of town, affected by many terrible things. i'm not exactly sure why this is, and i know there is a lot more to it than meets the eye or that can be explained by too many people, but that doesn't mean it's forgotten. both in the past and the present there have been organizations and outreach programs to try and help these people the best way they know how. i don't know if there will ever be a solution. but at least someone is trying. if you are in need in pensacola, you are not alone, and there is always some place you can go.

i know good and well, there are times when the health, safety, and well-being of your family comes first. but just because a place is broken, poor, and abused does not mean you should walk away and dust it under the rug. it just means it needs more love. 

there are pensacola communities that recognize the need to love it's people. and that is irreplaceable. there is nothing better we can do in this world than to love people; to be the hands and feet of Jesus to someone else.

after learning to love pensacola so much, i know that i have to give fairhope the same amount of time before i can quit half-heartedly telling people i'm adjusting. and i know there are many places on this earth that i could grow to love just as much. (in fact, every time i take those silly "where should you live?" quizzes, i always get the northwest...which makes me curious as to the real reason why i like the show "portlandia" so much...) i'm not trying to make pensacola out to be the best town there is. i'm not that foolish. but i just want people to understand why it is that we left a little piece of our hearts there, as corny as that sounds.

take it from a person who learned the hard way: appreciate your city--the place you are in--at the given moment. love it while you can. love on it while you can. appreciate and learn about it while you can.

there's something great about every town. i'm just a little partial to pensacola ;)

the best pie i've ever made

i ain't lyin'.

i made an apple pie for the 4th of july that was the bomb.com. the fact that it was gluten-free was not even considered. because it was that good. it wasn't good for a gluten-free pie; it was just GOOD.

the only reason i'm tooting my own horn here, is because people still shake their heads a little when we tell them we still eat good food. well, this time the proof is in the pudding...err, uh, pie.

many of you have asked, and i'm finally delivering.

the pie pictured is actually peach. and it was just as good. so i'll give you both recipes, although the pie crust is the same.

gluten-free pie crust:
2 cups all-purpose gluten-free flour (i use Pamela's)
12 Tbsp butter (the real stuff)
2 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp sea salt
1 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup ice-cold water

peach filling:
4-5 very ripe peaches (very soft, but not wrinkled or bruised)
1/4 cup natural cane sugar or turbinado
1/2 lemon, juiced
1 tsp cinnamon*

apple filling:
4-5 medium sized granny smith apples
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup natural cane sugar or turbinado
1/2 lemon, juiced
1 tsp cinnamon*

*i use the pampered chef's cinnamon plus spice blend; if you don't have this or access to it, add a dash of the following to your cinnamon: nutmeg, allspice, cloves, ginger

directions:

1. cube your butter and place in a bowl in the freezer while you prepare your fruit mixture

2. peel, core, and slice your fruit thinly (into eighths at least). mix in a bowl with the rest of your filling ingredients and refrigerate until needed

3. add all dry ingredients into a food processor and pulse quickly. add in your butter one cube at a time until mixed well (it will still be coarse). add apple cider vinegar, and then slowly add in cold water a little at the time until mixed well. remove mixture and work with your hands until it forms a smooth ball of dough. it should be firm, but not crumbly, and soft enough to work with--similar to clay. you can either roll out your crust right away or refrigerate it for an hour or so. refrigerating it will harden the butter again after it softens in your hands, so i usually refrigerate a bit. (if you make your crust more than an hour in advance, the dough will likely be a little hard to work with. you'll have to let it sit out for a while so it's pliable.)

{note: if you don't have a food processor, you can do this by hand, but just know that it will take a lot more elbow grease to get the butter chopped finely into the mixture. i did it once this way because my toddler was napping and i didn't want to wake her with the food processor noise, and frankly i couldn't make pies without nap time. it still worked fine, but i worked up a sweat!}

4. preheat oven to 350F and lightly butter a standard pie dish

5. with your ready-to-go ball of dough, roll it out evenly on a non-stick surface (you can also flour your surface and rolling pin slightly). it should be about 1/8" thick. it will roll out into a much bigger surface than your pie dish. gently lift your dough and place it in your dish. verrry gently press into your dish and tear off any that hangs over the dish. save your scraps for the top!

6. place your fruit filling in the pie.

note: peaches will "juice" upon baking, so ideally you want your mixture to be about half an inch to an inch lower than the top of the dish to prevent it bubbling over when baking. the apples, on the other hand, will shrink down a little--so fill that puppy up!

7. ball up your dough scraps and mold into a smooth ball again. roll it out thinly. you can choose to either make a full top crust or a lattice crust. if you choose full, just repeat the same process of placing it on top of your dish and trimming off any excess. press the two edges together with the tip of a fork, all the way around. cut small vent holes in the top. with a lattice crust, just cut your strips out and lay accordingly--press your edges in the same manner. you can even use tiny leftovers to create a star or heart or whatever you'd like, if you're feeling crafty.

8. bake for 45min - 1hr, or until crust is golden brown. note: without the gluten, i've noticed with baking that letting things get past the perfect golden brown stage will result in a tougher, chewy crust. with standard wheat flour, it will get a little flaky if it browns on the edges--not so much with gluten-free flours. just food for thought :)

9. if you wanna get real, serve warm with vanilla bean ice cream! mmmmmmm!!!!

here's a pic of my half-eaten apple pie on the 4th of july. i was so anxious to serve it and eat it that i didn't photograph the end result. my husband took this one :)

the juicy syrupy apply goodness that flowed from it got spooned on top of my ice cream. decadent, people. sent from above. 

happy eating, friends!!

the dreaded question

it's no foreign feeling to a mom in my shoes. nearly every woman who has left a career to stay home with a child has gone through it. and more women who have had kids are more understanding than you would expect.

but that still doesn't prevent that deer in headlights, squirming in your chair, momentary speechless moment when you have to answer this question:

"who's your employer?"

"where do you work?"

"what do you do?"

about 45 things run through my brain at this point. because i can't even begin to describe the real answer to that question.

before you jump ahead of me, this isn't going to be one of those things where i go into what a...stay at home mom...actually does, and how it's hard and we wear 29 hats, and that we have value. nope. this isn't one of those blogs. 

this is a let's get real and talk about how we really feel when we have to explain to answer that question kind of post.

because i know what i do. i know what my days are like. and other moms know what my days are like. but that still doesn't give me any kind of confidence when i answer that question. it doesn't instill in me any kind of value when i know what people think about stay at home moms. 

so then i answer the question:

"right now i'm primarily home with our baby"

"i've been taking some freelance work from home"

"i just started an internet interior design company, so that's been keeping me busy"

"well for the time being i'm at home, but i still have some design work on the side"

"i'm self-employed from home"

or. if i don't feel like explaining that complicated situation i just say:

"i'm not employed" or even worse

"i don't work"

that one is a joke. i don't work?? i shouldn't even entertain that as an appropriate response. but i do. because when people ask about me it's always "is dana working?" or "you're not at work right now are you?" 

no. actually, i don't drive to an office and sit at a desk all day long (thank God), but i actually do perform work. sometimes it pays, but most of the time it doesn't. 

so then i think, a more appropriate question would be "do you have a paycheck right now?" but no. no that's almost worse. that insinuates i don't contribute to my household. which would just ad insult to injury. 

so then, let's just add on top of that the culture in which i live right now. the last place i lived, it was generally understood that staying home with your kids was a sacrifice--by most people. i knew a lot of moms that stayed home that were in similar boats as us. but now, i'm in this small, old money, richest county in the state town where most moms stay home because it's what they do. they stay home, they put on yoga pants, drop their kids off at mom's day out, go to the gym, have coffee with friends, go shopping at publix, pick up their kids, and then they put on some cute little outfit and take their seersucker monogrammed romper family out to dinner in their new suv, pretending like they don't have real world problems.

i swear, this town is so beautiful. it's picture perfect. farmland meets coastland. i can take a drive down one of the country roads here and feel so at peace. like truly, this is God's country. like there's nowhere else i'd rather live. 

and then i go back "into town" and look around me and i wonder, "what am i doing here? i am a stranger--i am not like these people." 

and for that very reason, because it's human nature to judge someone's situation just by their looks and public actions, i feel a need to separate myself from them. every time i am out during the day with my kid and have to interact with a working woman, i feel like she's thinking the same things i'd be thinking:

"i guess she doesn't have a job. lucky. she's young. i wonder if she even went to college. her husband must make a lot of money. must be nice to be able to grocery shop in the middle of the day...."

then after you've made it known to someone that you don't have a paying job, you find it necessary to justify why. 

why do i stay home? 

well. it's not because i don't want to work. it's not because we don't need the money. it's not because my husband is trapped in some 1950s idealist world where he thinks a woman's place is in the home. it's not because it's what the women do in my family. it's not because i feel like it's "my calling." it's not because i'm a better mom when i'm not working. it's not because i've given up on my career. 

it's simply because we made a decision based on what we feel is best for our family. 

and i don't know why that's not enough. i wish i could change the fact that we all judge each other's financial situations and socioeconomic statuses. i am just as guilty of it as everyone else. every time i scroll through facebook and see other moms posting pictures getting their hair done, or their nails done, or lying by the pool, or out for dinner with their family, or on vacation, i think, gee, must be nice to have expendable income. and then a little voice chimes in and goes "now, dana, you don't know what their life is like. they probably work hard for that money. plus, those things don't matter in life anyway. your day will come. now, get a move on. you have a delicious home-cooked meal to prepare before nap time is over."

and to make matters worse, on days when i'm too sick to get out of bed (because i've made the decision to breastfeed my child, sacrificing my sleep and energy and body, certainly that's not enough and my boob is now practically dying before my eyes), my child is a complete angel for my husband, allowing him to do a week's worth of my work in one day. as if it's no big deal at all. swoop swoop swoop! happy baby, clean house, dinner cooked! now, wasn't that easy??

oh. my. curse word. curse word. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! what just happened here?! what kind of twilight zone am i living in?! i look like i'm living a lie. i swear to God i'm not home all day parked on the sofa watching entire seasons of netflix-available dramas.

so the truth is, i don't live my stay-at-home life with a smile on my face all the time. just like the working moms out there who wish they would have done it differently, there are days that i wish the same. days when i know that i'd probably be less annoyed with my toddler if we had 9 hours of away time 5 days a week. or days when i think about what we could do (and how many walmart trips i could avoid) with the extra money we would have if i worked. 

and then i snap back to reality. 

certainly there is some justifiable reason to why this is what we've chosen. and certainly God has his reasons for placing us in the situations we are in. rome wasn't built in a day, right? 

i guess so. 

and don't get me wrong. most days i love that i get to spend my days with a crazy-haired jabbering toddler who eats half of my food. it's a blessing. and i mean that in the truest sense of the word. not the southern bible belt sense of the word. this is time i won't get back. time i'll be grateful for when she's packing for college. 

but joyous time period can have hard, gloomy days, where you can forget why you do what you do. all because you can't justify it to someone else, it becomes hard for you to justify it to yourself. as if you need to justify it at all! what a concept. 

what a strange and difficult concept. 

follow me!

you can now find my blog listed on blog lovin'--it's an awesome site that manages all the blogs you follow so you can see all new posts at once, as well as find new blogs that might peak your interest.

it's neato!

just click below:

Follow my blog with Bloglovin