So many adventures. So few times.

My photo
My life is pretty dull. I play with a toddler, watch a lot of Yo Gabba Gabba and experiment with the crock pot. I have no bed time and I find humor in Laffy Taffy jokes. Conan O'Brien is my anti-drug.

Saturday, September 14, 2019

Lavender Mint Lime-Infused Miracle Water




I get super bored with water. 
There, I said it. 
I know, I know. "Everyone gets bored with water", "Don’t add flavorings because it’ll only trigger cravings for sweets", yada yada yada. I've heard it all. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that I get ridiculously bored with water. 

And yeah, I’ve infused. I’ve infused more random fruits and berries and cucumbers just this last summer than most people have in their entire life. I was standing around in my kitchen and gazing out at the backyard when I hit some inspiration. 

Mint, some limes, some lavender… I felt like I was drinking some exotic post massage spa drink.



While it’s pretty self explanatory, I will break it down for you. Start with your mint... I used approximately six leaves from my mint bush and simply dropped them in the bottom of a drop-in infuser jug. 


Take a whole lime and give it five or six rolls under the palm of your hand on your counter top - this is a little magic trick to make it even juicier - and then and cut it in half. Squeeze the juice of one of the halves into your pitcher and then cut the other half into slices to add into the infuser insert. 


I have English Lavender growing in a pot for a natural mosquito repelling, but this beautiful purple perennial plant is also an edible herb! Snip the flower of one stem and after rinsing, pop the blossoms into the top of the infuser. Fill her up with water, place the pitcher of water in your refrigerator for a few hours or up to 48 hours and then enjoy!



English lavender is is believed to have antiseptic and anti-inflammatory properties. It also maybe beneficial for anxiety, insomnia, depression and restlessness.

Mint leaves soothe upset stomachs, improves digestion, reduces stress and anxiety and could improve brain function.

Limes improve digestion, may lower blood sugar, fights inflections and reduces inflammation.


Sooooo yeah, this is basically like a swollen, anxious person's miracle water. You're welcome!














Monday, July 8, 2019

Confessions of the Binger

I try to be somewhat open about the various non-senses inside my brain and inside my body. No, really. I do. Because I feel like if I’m not open then someone can’t truly get to know me. And if someone cannot except me for my flaws, they will never truly be my friend. And like all mommas, I need some rock solid friends. (So many “ands!”)

With all of that rambling, today I am putting a tiny little crease into a new page in the Buffy book. I see a psychologist for binge eating, restricting and anxiety. After many strings pulled by this amazing woman who somehow manages to punch me in the metaphorical gut each time we meet, I am heading to an eating disorder clinic. I will be meeting a new psychiatrist who will I’m sure re-diagnosed me with anxiety and ADHD and 97 other fun things. What I’m more nervous but also excited about is meeting with a dietitian therapist.

But I am also scared shitless. Just about a year ago I hit a new low weight with 40 pounds lost. That isn’t including muscle gains. I maintained for quite a while, and then things crumbled. I binge more days than not in a week. I’ve mastered the art of being out of control subtly, where my family may not even notice. I feed every emotion literally with food, but this goes well beyond just over eating. Self-control? Yeah, I do know what that is. And sometimes I have amazing self-control. In fact, myself control is so great that I can also go a day or two without consuming more calories than it is in the creamer I add to my coffee. I dabbled with intermittent fasting, but after a few weeks realized this is no better for me then completely starving myself. I know a lot of people have had great success with IF, but my brain is a special version of hot mess. I was still gaining weight and felt weaker in the process.
Whoopsies! 

What am I so scared of? Facing my realities. Having to change my habits. Letting go of any control I think I may have now. Resisting urges that my body is aching for. I’m scared of finding healthy methods to relieve stress. I’m scared of dealing with skeletons in my closet.

Also for full disclosure, I am afraid that I will open up to these people and bear my soul, admit everything and have them tell me I’m crazy and that I simply eat too much.

... Or have them tell me I need to stop drinking my glass of wine every night. Because dammit, wine.

Saturday, June 1, 2019

Oooh!

This has been said before, but I’m back! Fun things in the hopper - like my ultimate, all-time favorite matcha mint green tea latte from a neighborhood coffee shop. But maybe not because I don’t actually have the top secret recipe.
Whatever.
Stay tuned! 

Back woods lessons

You know what I super love? Getting lost on our own property. We have around 20 acres of property and the more we really explore and climb and crawl and swipe ticks off our body, the more land I want. 



My husband, resident big thinker, brought out our old school push mower so we could work on a path to get to the back of the property. Total genius move and saved hacking/pulling every little tree along the trail. Maybe the best weekend we’ve ever had, simply getting dirty while being eaten alive by mosquitoes.



Leopard print so predators stay away. Obviously.
And by predators, I sorta [definitely] mean our own kids. 



Of my many found things (including a super old, half-buried wagon wheel and approximately 8 golf balls) was a pile of old beer cans. Ummm... when did Miller have ‘Miller Ice’??!



In conclusion: get outside! Explore! Explore your back yard, dig in the dirt. 
Don’t have a back yard? Give me a buzz and you can come explore mine with me. I think our noisy, critter-filled woods are maybe my favorite place on earth.

Second only to the sauna room at my gym. 
Because, always cold.


Monday, April 8, 2019

Enough

Warning - this is a little dark and the main reason I’ve struggled with writing for a very long time.

Oh anxiety. Why now?! You have me second guessing every word out of my mouth, and yet rambling like never before. You have me nervous to interact with anyone and everyone, including my husband and children. You make me sound angry but feel scared. You make me wonder if my marriage is in question, if my husband doesn’t want me any more because I’m such a wreck, on such a short fuse and so quick to cry. You make me question the love of my children, if they truly need me, if they would be better without me, if my love isn’t enough for them and they can’t feel it radiating from my pores with every breath I take. You have me shove food into my face I don’t want to eat, certainly don’t need to eat, until I’m aching and miserable and can’t breathe. You make me yearn for silence and dark, my crisp sheets with the curtains drawn. 

I’m trying to claw my way to the surface of this grave my brain has buried me in. I’m trying to find the peace and the joy in the simple tasks I love, the people I love fiercely and wholly, far more than myself. I’m trying to find connection with family on all sides, a sense of home among relatives. Im trying to open to friends and allow them back into my heart although so many have left me behind to wallow. I’m trying to push away my self-placed ache of not belonging, being unnecessary, having no reason except to bring pain to those I love. But when I use my voice in a strong, brief moment I get strange looks, rolled eyes, blatant cold shoulders and it plunges me back into the dark. Texts aren’t returned. Voicemails are ignored. Invitations are sent to all but me. And it’s so hard to believe and be and try when no one wants my effort. 

I am enough. I am enough. I am enough. 
I will repeat this until I believe it. 



Wednesday, February 20, 2019

Loud Noises!1!!11!

FALSE ALARM! I repeat: FALSE ALARM! No cancerous growths, thank God. I had a 3D mammo and ultrasound by a gaspy, panicky woman who freaked me out and a lovely woman who I’d actually met previously and thought very highly of. I’ll let you decide which is which. 

Ultimately: 


Thank you and much love to all of you who sent luck and prayers and warm & fuzzy thoughts my way.  

Monday, February 18, 2019

Monday Musings of a Boob freak

Recording my thoughts as I drive and as I sit in a parking lot and while I am in the radiology waiting room. I can’t remember how this started. Middle of the night insomnia, and a self-exam out of 3 a.m. boredom. 


Yes, I don’t actually know anything. Yes, the statistics are in my favor. All of the statistics. I am under 40 years old and I am healthy. While I did have clogged ducts while breast-feeding I never developed mastitis. There is no history of women in my immediate family developing breast cancer, at least not that I know of. And yet here I am, after going in to question a lump I discovered a few weeks ago. Here I am less than a week later, rushed in for a mammogram that I thought I would not experience until my 40s, when I would have to begrudgingly make that silly appointment. I have to get an ultrasound on my right breast to find out what those- not one – but two large lumps actually are. And I’m confident that it is nothing. Except right now I am not confident. Yesterday? I was OK. Saturday evening I was swell, with a beer in hand and sarcasm in my voice as I talked to a friend about her experiences with silly offices and boobs and whatnot. But on this sunshiny but cold Monday I am scared to death. 


It would be more likely that I would get hit by a semi in an intersection and die from that than to have breast cancer, which doesn’t even necessarily translate to fatality. But here is the bile in the back of my throat and the insomnia for days on end from unspoken fears and here are the jittery and watery scatterings in every interaction I have today. 


I had a huge binging episode on Saturday and briefly again on Sunday. But I also drank away my fears with a good friend who had loads of excellent input and made me laugh and had pop culture references that were on par with my own. Teary-eyed texts went to another who I miss dearly and know has been through a similar situation and would be holding my shaky, clammy hand right this effing second if she could.


And then today I stupidly searched Google for images of what a positive ultrasound looks like just in case it comes to that. I googled what it would look like to have a cyst or to have one of the many other possibilities of this foreign mass in my body and then I dragged myself into the shower and cried for 30 minutes straight. I wrote a workout for this evening’s gym HIIT class that seems a lifetime away but really is only in 3 hours. I forced myself to eat some ham lunch meat to stop the coffee churning in my stomach, and then I sat and watched a fluffy movie. I gave my kids extra hugs and watched them play sweetly (and bicker just the same). I dry-heaved until I didn’t and ridded myself of the measley protein I had consumed. I grasped my husband tightly before I left the house. 


And now I can’t delay any longer, and I have to leave my car and all I want is to curl into my children and my husband and love and be loved. 




But instead, it’s time to squish a boob and take a super expensive picture. 


Let’s do this.