Not Nice Spice
I don’t think there’s any other way to spend a summertime Saturday morning than strolling through the local farmer’s market. The best part was watching my nieces get excited over fruits and veggies! Sadly for the stud there weren’t any whoopie pies out quite yet; somehow he survived! We had a blast and then enjoyed some of our finds snacking on the lawn.
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Things that make me a giddy little school girl-- my birthday, traveling, and Christmas. Thankfully the month of July gives me two out of three, and this year we survived our first family road trip, which is basically like Christmas in July! It was surprisingly relaxing and I couldn’t have been prouder of my chickadee. She was a super star in the car and even managed to love digging in the sand, though we’ll have to tackle the waves on another trip (trauma!). Every day we got up early and stayed out late. By far the most memorable moment was the last night, which gave us a full moon and a boardwalk dance party. Since Chickadee can’t waste a beat, she was wiggling around and moving her feet even when we were still blocks away.
The best part about living out of the congested stuffy city is being able to have a little garden on my deck. After we were settled in this past April I hauled baby, stroller, and an Ikea blue bag loaded with gardening goodness. All this goodness probably totaled somewhere $50-100 when all said and done (I had to get pots, seeds, bulbs, and soil). Surveying my garden, for lack of a better tem, it’s fair to say my green thumb must be leaning towards black these days. Ferns, house Lily, marigolds, citronella plant are looking lush. Oh! And the aloe plant, but I’m not sure if it’s possible to kill these, so I really lucked out. T-minus not a lot of days until the beach! I was so excited that my SIL decided to run a 3-day Beach Body detox group. But as the turning-thirty-luck would have it, the group was the same week as my birthday. And let’s be real- I wasn’t about to spend the week eating berries and fish. I pushed the detox to the week after and can confidently say it was well worth it (let me take a moment to daydream about the most incredible strawberry shortcake I ever had).
Overall, the detox plan was fabulous! My biggest glitch was breastfeeding. I didn’t want too few calories and jeopardize my supply, but I recognized that this tends to turn into an excuse for me. So load up the healthy portions! I ended up having extra servings of tuna, cucumbers, carrots, berries, or apples. I tried to act smart enough to not over indulge on things like nuts and avocado (healthy fats), but let’s be real—no one is eating half an avocado! Today my daughter called my name. I was dumbfounded. I have not taught her mom, mommy, mama—nada! I seriously need to know how she figured this out because I know, based on how obnoxiously attached I am to my mother, she’ll let that vocabulary roll right off her tongue. She is very much my best bud, so I got all warm and fuzzy in about point zero, zero two seconds. When moments like this happen I’m sucked into future visions of my life racing by. It’s beautiful, but so painful I just need to give her extra squeezes to slow things down a little. My husband’s friend was expecting last year and asked him how it was to have a baby. Stud told him it’s crazy—you’re exhausted and you completely understand why they make you watch the shaken baby video plus pamphlet plus booklet plus give you a binder full of resources. His friend was agreeable in the conversation. Inside Stud was laughing because he realized what others had seen in us. We were so naïve. We could never imagine how pull your hair out stressful having a baby could be, while in the very same instance be so unbelievably beautiful that you have to take a photo (I have roughly 200 some photos of the first month—this is not normal unless it’s your first baby). Chickadee and I have been keeping an eye on our houseplants, herbs, lilies, ferns and other bits that I completely forgot whatever it was. All day we would watch these two finches racing in and around our deck. It was so much fun, especially while nursing outside. FINALLY, after a little over two weeks the tiny eggs hatched! It was all too much! The little chirps, the mama and papa diving in and out of the ferns, and their cute beaks popping up to reach for food bits. We loved it! When I mentioned to my husband that I wasn’t watering that fern because I didn’t want to disturb them, he brought my reality to a screeching halt. They had flown away. They didn’t live there anymore. They had grown up. This time the mic dropped because I was shocked. I wasn’t expecting that to happen for a long while. How were they REALLY ready to leave the nest?!?! Not possible. I know that as much as I’m going to love chitchats with my Chickadee, I’m also going to have to let her fly away. Okay, pause the writing for silent mom tears. Even as I’m writing this she woke in the middle of the night with a faint cry, and I gladly popped up to hold her and snuggle her back to sleep. I won’t always have these moments so I’m holding on for dear life! Growing up a moody-tonally challenge girl, I had a lot of friction with my father. Somehow the universe has changed me into only a moderately moody-tonally challenged woman. Thank God. More importantly I am my father’s clone, so it wasn’t a big deal that life was too chaotic to celebrate Father’s Day on the actual day. I’m so blessed to have a dad that regardless of how busy he was, he always said he was proud of me and was there to support me as best he could. Needless to say that when I was in a jam—my in-laws were arriving in less than a week and I only had a platform mattress sans platform. I had my heart set on a romantic wooden frame from Urban Outfitters. Besides the fact that it wouldn’t arrive in time I couldn’t come to grips with spending $800 on a bed that would be used only a handful of times a year. When I asked to borrow he screw gun, he knew that a catastrophe was looming and decided to take over. Seeing how I didn’t want my in-laws to sleep on a bed that would collapse in the middle of the night as a result of my (not)handy-work, I graciously accepted. And, Oh. My. Goodness. I’m so glad he did! My tragic guesstimating was out the window, and after my dad gave the thumbs up to plans from DIY with Rick, I placed an online order for pickup at Home Depot . The only change was nixing the headboard, since the room size only allows for the bed to be placed in front of the window. In my Pinterest mind I was going to pop it together in an hour or two. Instead my dad took the skills he has been utilizing for years to make something extra special for me. Okay, now I feel like a seven year old girl blushing on her birthday. Next steps are to sand and stain the frame so it matches the dresser. Then we’ll be on to the living room—Pinterest has me falling in love with Frenchy TV consoles. As my 30th birthday looms, I have become self-reflective—scratch that—I have become obsessive about my relationship status. Currently my life should read #itscomplicated. And it seems as though there is turmoil traipsing through my life like a shaggy dog running through the neighborhood on a rainy day. So as any overly analytical woman, coming upon a monumental life event would, I decided to binge on holiday junk food followed by over playing Beach Body DVDs. Thank you July Fourth parties and Autumn. As if disagreements with friends would be enough, I’ve also got family and spouse in the mix. While some of the issues are past baggage unloading when least expected (spouse) and others are complete differences in personalities effecting major life choices (family), it seems like the ones I cherish the most are the hardest to fix, if at all (friends). Or perhaps it’s because it’s the hardest to fix I’ve come to hold it the closest. Well, I had decided to balls up and apologize for anything I did or said that was inappropriate, hurtful, insensitive, rude, overbearing or just generally obnoxious. Then I just sat a waited… And then waited some more. But it seems as though, even in cases where the offense wasn’t mine (omg, I swear on my life there are even things I wouldn’t do!) that some things were just swept under the rug. Not normally the trend with my family, but when things haven’t been dealt with in so long someone tends to forget and the other decides to just move along for the greater good. The friend issues are on the line for now. Let’s call that a To Be Continued—hopefully. All the while, dare I say that I am JEALOUS of the Real Housewives?!?! On these titillating shows, with the most horrendous drama, there always is a decent level of resolve. Thank the heavens, sweet nectar from above, Stud and I are on a mission to not let this be what we pass on to our child(ren!). We are proudly talking it out with a marriage counselor. I seriously recommend this for couples! Even if things are easy breezy, at least once or twice a year meet with someone to talk about where you were, where you are now, and where you want to be in the next 5/ten/20 years. It’s surprising how much we assume about those closest to us, instead of having blunt conversations. What struck me was that when I was opening up my Bible to read what one always thinks they’ll read--You are beautiful, you are loved, you have great things awaiting you, and yada yada—I actually read a piercing reality: Even jackals offer their breasts to nurse their young, but my people have become heartless like ostriches in the desert. (Lam. 4:3) Awwwwwkward. How timely, God. Let me pat you on the back. Of course this is the verse He used to give me a nice slap across the face. Seeing how I had just finished nursing my own daughter not but an hour prior, I quickly had to admit that in most cases I was really just putting out the Sorry, but there really wasn’t anything I was sorry about. I wanted to say that I had put myself out there, made the effort, was the bigger person; so let’s just cut the crap. Truth is I should have stepped up sooner! Truth is I should have been direct. Truth is I should have said sorry without any follow up (no buts allowed, folks). Stellaaaaaaaaa! I have a little backtracking to do before I can call it a day. But this was a timely wakeup call, even at a late hour. As much as I was desperate to move out of NYC, I was anxious about feeling trapped in a small town. The city always wins because it has the convenience of everything—unless there is road construction, accidents, car stalled, train delays, trains stuck, signal malfunctions, emergency on the tracks, or my favorite, when the train just shut down because someone dropped their umbrella on the tracks as the train was passing. That was the night when my husband came home 3 hours late (on a 11 hour work day, no less). So fast-forward to the Fourth of July and small town living! We had to get to the parade an hour and a half early because the main road was closing for the parade. Actually the whole town closed for the parade, except the little urban coffee shop, Saxbys (I knew there was a God). We weaved in and out of a few tractors and horses, parked, snagged ice coffee, and found Poppie and Grandma saving corner seats in the shade. The nice part about a small town parade was the fact that even with loads of people it was still easy to move around, check out vendors and snag summertime treats! I didn’t have to worry if Chickadee was safe or where we’d all meet up if separated. It was just a breeze! Our last NYC parade was for St. Patrick’s Day. My friend and I were trying to cross over Fifth Ave. to go stroll in Central Park, but it was a no go. The line was a mile long to cross and with my chickadee and her chickadee ready to hatch it just wasn’t happening. Which was such a bummer because Central Park in the springtime is quite possibly the most relaxing. I think the adjustment was well worth it. We had the best time because we didn’t have to follow any schedule (see ya, 7 train!). Chickadee was able to nap, nurse, get a fresh diaper and Stud and I didn’t miss a single marching band, tractor ensemble, or dance routine. Even better, we were with family and friends, and friends of friends. |
Kate FrancesWhen you don't know what else to do, then it's time to write. Then write a little while longer for good measure. Archives
February 2020
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