Uncensored: a real world moment

My husband just took the kids, God bless him, to Walgreens to make copies of
our recent ultrasound pictures. That means I have roughly 30 minutos to vent.

Me and my unshaved legs are sitting here wearing shorts that I have to use a rubber band
to keep shut, with two day old hair, and a stack of chocolate kisses and Starbursts that I may
or may not be shoving into my face. Sure hope my nutritionist isn't reading this.

This week has been rough.

It all started in the pediatric dentist's office. Everything was fine and dandy, high and happy
on silly gas, until that wore off and the reality of a numb cheek and tongue hit my three year old's
reality. Tears. For hours and hours. I broke down and bought everyone a round of "chocolate frosty"
from Wendy's. Truth is, I needed it just as bad as the patient. The good news is, we get
to go back next week and do it all over again!

Then Judah jumped down the stairs and broke his leg like the professional maniac he is.
This kid. Third major incident. He's only 2. He's a prime candidate for a bubble suit.
I'm sure our insurance company would be most thankful. Heck, I would appreciate that.


I survived a 3 hour vacay in the ER with a 2 and 3 year old, 21 weeks pregnant, with ZERO husband.
I was running on adrenaline until I signed the dismissal papers. I then signed myself right in to the
local El Burrito Loco where I stress-ate my way through some tacos al pastor.


In between all that, I was informed at my OB's office that I have gained 7 pounds in 5 weeks.
5 months ago I couldn't gain weight to save my life and now this! 60 pounds, here I come.
Glad I ate those tacos for the sake of the cause.

Then I went and seriously lost my van in the hospital parking garage and walked three floors
with two kids in tow (freaking out because it was "dwark and scwary") to find it.
My husband was like, "for real?" I was like, "shut up."

To top it all off, we got a tour of our local orthopedic surgeon's office.
Judah cried the entire visit. Isaiah picked out his cast color because Judah was
too consumed in screaming at the doctor and drooling the sucker the nurse gave him
all over the place. Thus, everyone got ice-cream again.


And you know what? It could be so much worse.
Miraculously, my house is clean, the dishes are done, and there is food in the fridge.
Isaiah got his tooth filled, Judah will walk again, and the baby en route is looking great!
There are two loads of laundry in my utility room waiting to be folded, but I've got a
couple episodes of Firefly (#nerdalert) and a dozen bacon wrapped dates to eat to wash
away all the anxiety I've bottled up this week before I even touch that.

Lifestyle. It's not always pretty and put together. But we all know that, right?
Shoot. My family just got back from Walgreens.

Halfway to Baby

20 weeks. You're lucky this pregnancy is FLYING by and that I've not even thought about
posting a weekly "bumpdate"! Third babies. I swore up and down that I would not be THAT parent.
The one who is "too busy" to take the time to document all the details along the way...

I think I've written in this baby's journal twice, maybe? Not any less loved though!
In fact, I'd say there's more love than ever as there are more anxious siblings awaiting
the grand "pop out" event of the year.

The other day we were in Wal-Mart and there was a Hispanic baby
in the cart in front of us at the check-out...

Isaiah: "Mom, he's so cute!"
Judah: "Yea!!! Momma, you're baby popped out!"
Me: "Oh. That's not OUR baby, guys."
Isaiah: "Well, can we pet him anyway?"

We are so excited to be "outnumbered" as parents!!! It's gonna be a good time, y'all!

This pregnancy has been a walk in the park *knock on wood*. I had no morning sickness.
Say what?! Yea. My doc thinks it could be due to the paleo diet I stick to 90% of the time.
Prehistoric man knew what was up. Now, if labor and delivery could be a walk in the park!!!

I've felt drastic movement that I just cannot believe Nathan has not been able to feel from
the outside. I can't wait to see the kids' faces when they feel the baby kick for the first time!

I've craved the usual: cake, pizza, doughnuts, pasta... but have been really good with sticking
to dipping my apples in peanut butter, devouring HALF a bag, as opposed to a WHOLE bag, of sriracha
potato chips in one sitting, and eating way too may bacon wrapped dates for my own good.
Cinnamon is wow. I put it on everything reasonable. The most embarrassing thing I've eaten:
cottage cheese with French dressing. I'm trusting we are close enough that I can tell you that.

If this baby is a BOY, which it most likely is, we are going to name him "John Paul Francis" -
like every other Catholic family this year. It's not that we have no creativity mind you.
I mean I am tossing around "Bella Francis" for a girl! Nathan has been vetoing that hardcore,
but what's he going to do when they bring ME the paperwork in the hospital and I just
happen to ask him to run to the cafeteria and bring me back a snack?! I would never do that.


Growing life is beautifully exhausting. I've been in awe every pregnancy with just how awesome it is
that God let's us as women participate in the creation of a tiny, new soul. Mind blown.

Very honestly, it makes me anxious - leaving me feeling more vulnerable than ever before.
It's one thing to be responsible for your OWN body. But when another life is on board
the U.S.S. Momma... man, I find myself praying that the 40 weeks pass quickly, safely,
quietly. I would just feel better if my baby was in my arms. But even then...

How small we are as parents. We do what we can - falling on our knees - becoming our child's
biggest advocate out of the tremendous, inescapable, all-consuming love we feel -
leaving the rest up to God.

The God who loves our child, our children, more than we do as their mother, father - parents.

Just a vessel. 20 more weeks.

So You Can't Afford Kids...

Just ask us. Anything you need to know about anything... we have all the answers. NOT.
Parents of the year right here. Actually no. We had to forfeit that title when we were told our
oldest needs a pediatric dentist. Yea about that.

Nathan and I are mistaken as "babies raising babies" all the time, but we are deceivingly
older than we look. We were actually carded and then re-carded at a bar downtown Chicago one time.
I tried not to be offended by the fact that they kept looking from I.D. pictures to our faces like
we had fakes. I wanted to be flattered. I really did.

You should have seen their faces when we told them we had two children at home.


I'm not here to vent about my youthly looks or anything. I just wanted to share something that I
found most disturbing. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I won't be spending the $242,000+
per kid and more about the issue of parents who actually feel the need to...

CNNMoney in August of 2013 said:
"From daycare to the monthly grocery bill, the cost of raising a child is climbing at a rate that
many families can't keep up with. It will cost an estimated $241,080 for a middle-income couple
to raise a child born last year for 18 years, according to a U.S. Department of Agriculture report
released Wednesday. That's up almost 3% from 2011 and doesn't even include the cost of college."

And all the would-be parents ran for the hills.

The rest of us are either dishing it out with pleasure or shaking our heads and handing our
5 year old a bag of hand-me-down clothing - promising that Mickey Mouse is not all he's made out
to be and that the tent camping "vacation" we have planned for this summer is going to rock his world.

People ask us all the time, like it's their business or something, how many kids we plan on having.
Could that question fall under "sexually offensive" maybe?! Like I'm going to tell you how many times
I want to sleep with my husband during ovulation. TMI. Why do they want to know?!?

We usually just smile, bat our eyes, shrug our shoulders and give the heavily padded answer:
"However many God gives us?! 7-12. Give or take?! Gosh darn it, I don't know."

I'm just kidding. You can totally ask me how many kids we are going to have.

But then the "seemingly innocent question and answer session" suddenly turns into a lecture
on the costs of raising children in America these days. It is at this point you'll find me
and my quizzical brows bent in disbelief that this person actually plans to have 1.23 children
in order to afford all the bells and whistles. The ones that will most likely NOT cease with
college, but continue to flow like milk and honey from the weddings to the grandbabies.

Raising kids is what YOU make of it. YOU set the bar as the parent.
Not the freakin' Joneses.

I get it. I hear you. I know where you are coming from. And as an educated and informed
citizen of the US of A I'm not planning on spending all that money to ship my kids off to daycare,
put them in name brand clothing, and buy them a car on their 16th birthdays. Sounds barbaric?

I don't see barbaric. I see the priceless gift of siblings and parents who are engaged in
relationships with each other because they don't have all the "afforded things" to distract them.
I see sacrifice, virtue and character building, adventures and memories that money can't buy,
joy in receiving gifts, diligence, perseverance, work ethic, etc. etc. etc.


I was raised to work hard in order to get far. I paid for college (still paying for college)
and I wouldn't have it any other way. I OWNED my education - worked on campus, every break,
and straight through the summer. My education wasn't handed to me on a silver plate, and I
honestly think I am all the better for it. I learned about the real world of loans, paychecks,
bills, and the not-so-modern-American dream of having to make SACRIFICES -
to give til it hurts - to get where you want to be.

Kids want and remember the connection, the feelings associated with even the simplest events,
the love they were given, the security they felt. 242,000 dollars is nice, but not needed to raise
a kid these days. Now I'm not naïve in thinking that every financial situation paves the way to
a happy paradise in the brain of a child, but I am thinking that keeping it simple, organic -
the kind of raising that the "golden era" or our grandparents grew up with - is beautiful, healthy,
and produces a mighty fine generation who knows the meaning of hard work, money, and real life.

Of course we are going to do everything in our power to make sure our kids are comfortable -
that they feel secure and supported all along the way. But I think there has to be balance.

I think if we all cared a little less about the Joneses that maybe the cost of raising a child
would stop going up and maybe come back down to a real, realistic level of reality.
Coffee for all who wake up.



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The Heartbeat of Motherhood

I couldn't read his face. I just laid there, motionless, scared to breath for fear that
I would compromise the routine and somehow miss what I so desperately needed to hear.
After what felt like an eternity, my doctor asked me to come down to the ultrasound room.


"You can't find the heartbeat, can you?" I asked trying to sound brave.He just shook his head and motioned for me to go down the hall.Hot tears filled my eyes as I put on the gown that had been handed to me.My own heart was pounding out of my chest; begging for it's normal rhythm - demandingto be put at ease. Breathe. Just breathe. "Don't cry. God's will. Remember God's will."
And then there was life. Movement. Cart wheels. 152 beats per minute. A lively baby inactive retreat from all things ultrasonic. I laughed in that moment, relieved of course.But I cried ugly tears the moment I walked in my front door. Scared, shaken momma tears.
Motherhood. It's so much more than the plastic high heals, make-believe husband, and baby "for real"that my five year old self imagined. The little life entrusted to us - precious extensions of ourselves.Truly the heartbeat of our lives. I thought I knew LOVE.I found out I knew nothing before my first son was born.
It makes my chest ache just thinking about it. A love so raw, fierce, driven, decidedly abandonedto the tiny person gifted to you. It's big. And it does NOT divide with each coming child, butmultiples, grows, deepens - leaving its mark etched all over our skin, our hearts.
I've never feared my heart exploding until now.
Motherhood. I've been to Europe 4 times, sat in halls and met with influential, famous, holy people,been on over 10 missions from the U.S. to Mexico, witnessed miracles first hand, attained a B.A. inTheology and English: Writing, married the man of my dreams, worked my "dream job", etc. etc. etc.And yet, hands down, the best adventure and accomplishment of my liferesides in being crowned "momma". Momma to the ones with the sticky hands,smudgy faces, endless requests, and the shining "chocolate" and "blueberry" eyes.
They make my world go round. I'm honored to be their momma.I'm thankful I celebrate "Mother's Day" with these people. My very heartbeat.

Wishing all the mommas - the ones who mother both spiritually and biologically -the ones who foster, adopt, lovingly take under their wing - the ones who are longingto be mothers - the ones who have loved and lost - my own momma - all of you -a HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!

You are loved.We are loved.

Gluten-Free Waffles + a Side of Perspective

You know what? Having allergies and cravings are one thing. Having allergies and cravings
whilst pregnant are quite another. Yesterday, when the doorbell rang and the nice mailman handed
me a flat, square box, my children shrieked, "PIIIIIIZZZZZZZA!?" In all of their existence, we
have NEVER had a pizza delivered to our house. Not one. But they were thinking what I've been
thinking for months: deep dish. Give it to me now. Or don't - because it will make me sick.


Two years of straightening out my diet and health issues. It's like my body is being ironed -
not my clothes - and let me tell you something, it is painful! Physically and emotionally.
My poor husband hears the bulk of it. When they go to canonize him someday, will someone please
add that to his testimony? I'm like his purgatory on earth. Food rants on repeat for this man.
Bet you're glad you didn't marry me. I told him when we were dating: "I am NOT just a pretty face."
I remind him of that now. Don't say I didn't warn ya, buddy!

It is just in these past couple of months though that I have realize how good I actually have it.
When I look at the foods I CANNOT eat compared to the list of foods that I CAN - I sigh a prayer of
thankfulness. Ok not really. I tend to twitch and get a little weepy - hi, my name is Brittany and
I am a recovering food addict.

I can't tell you how many e-mails I've received asking for ideas, diet solutions, favorite cookbooks,
places to start, etc. Most of which end with: "HOW MUCH DO YOU SPEND ON GROCERIES?!"

The golden question. A lot. That's my answer. But it's the only way to keep me and my family
healthy - so COST is a non-issue. We give up things in other areas to make this happen. We've
taken "let food be thy medicine" to a very serious level here. Hippocrates is the man.

And that's when I think of all the people, especially in third world countries, but even right here
in my own backyard. The ones who would laugh tears of joy to have my diet...
while I cry because I can't have just one freakin' Oreo.

Perspective. It's humbling.

Reminds me to be thankful for what has been given. It could be so much worse.
Little Miss Pampered Pallet here - recovering one day at a time.

____________________________________________________
Most of you know we make most things from scratch in our household. Boxed gluten-free mixes,
sauces, etc. still usually contain ANOTHER allergen that we have to avoid... soooooo you better
believe I do a couple back flips when I pump out a recipe from scratch that comes pretty darn
close to what I remember of the gluten-filled world!!!


VANILLA-ALMOND WAFFLES
(gluten-free + dairy-free + refined sugar free)
1 C. brown rice flour
1/2 C. all-purpose gluten-free flour (we use Bob's Red Mill)
1/4 C. tapioca flour
2 eggs
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. sea salt
1 tbls. vanilla
2 tbls. pure maple syrup
1/4 C. sunflower oil
1 1/4 C. unsweetened almond milk (could use rice milk or water)

Whisk and pour into oiled/buttered waffle iron. Magic will occur. Yields: 6-8 waffles.

I'm always impressed when a gluten-free breakfast item manages to "hold together"
under great amounts of fresh fruit and pure maple syrup! These made me happy happy happy.

AND because I don't tolerate yeast at the moment, I have been able to make some
mighty tasty sandwiches out of these waffle babies too!

P.S. these do well from freezer to toaster to stomach. Just FYI. Midnight snack.
I'm so pregnant.

Home Ec: What My Momma Taught Me

The other day it was hitting me real hard that my family of origin plays a super strong
role in just about everything I ever dreamed of, want to be, and live out on a daily basis.
Shocking, I know. You'd have thought I'd been up and smelling the coffee years ago!

Driving home from an Easter get together I told my husband that I probably never had any
desire to be a career woman because my mom stayed home, my grandma stayed home, and all my
(maternal-side) aunts stayed home... and now I stay home, my sister stays home, and most
of my female cousins who are married stay home too! It's a conspiracy.

The "STAY HOME" club. SHC.
Watch out.

And here I am. The happy as a peacock product of my upbringing.

My mom taught me just about everything I needed to know in regards to being domestic.
I feel gypped in the "how to remove stains" department... but I'll forgive her. Seriously,
I had learned so much about childcare, gardening, cleaning, organizing, running laundry, etc.
that by the time I was getting married at the ripe old age of 22 the only cookbook I had to
my name was the original Betty Crocker collection.

Which I only opened for Christmas cookie recipes.

Ok, I don't know eeeeeverything. But that's when I just pick up the phone and dial "MOM".
Or "GRANDMA" - sometimes grandma knows even MORE!

I told my mom the other day that I was SO thankful she had me running laundry, babysitting,
cooking dinner, helping my younger siblings with their homework, cleaning the house... from the
time I was like oooh 8 because I'd be up a creek without a paddle now if she hadn't.
When I turned 16 I started doing most of the grocery shopping for our family of 7 too.
I could load and unload a full cart at Aldi like nobody's business.

Oh I complained, grumbled, moaned, rolled my eyes, stomped my feet, and sighed:
"I bet my friends' moms never make them do this stuff!" #woeisme

But you know what? Home Ec paid off.

Here are the 3 key lessons I learned that mean so much today:

1.) 20 minute pick-up

2.) do the dishes

3.) "get ready" for your husband

ONE: The 20 minute pick-up! INVALUABLE. This was something my mom had us kids do a couple
times a day to keep order as she homeschooled us all. Until I have kids who are old enough to really
"pull their load" - I operate on this principle 3 times a day.

Just 20 minutes of picking up. This includes straightening bookshelves, sweeping the floors,
wiping down tables, etc. Keeps things "under control" so I don't end up with a TRAIN WRECK
of a house at the end of the day.

Before lunch. Before Nathan comes home. Before the kids go to bed.

Doing a quick pick-up before the kids go to bed is SO NICE. They usually help with this
and it clears the space for Nathan and I to think/work. PLUS it gives me a clean slate
for the next morning. Winning.

TWO: Do the dishes! This lesson carries the most weight in the evening. I was raised
to leave the kitchen "immaculate" before bedtime - aaaaand I still leave the kitchen immaculate
before bedtime. Let me tell you something, waking up to clean counters and floors with an empty
sink is like walking into a Walt Disney World resort for adults. We cook most of our food from
scratch - and I spend a lot of time in this space preparing allergen-friendly meals for my family...

I like it immaculate. Makes me feel human.

THREE: "get ready" for your husband! I think by now all the feminists reading have checked out.
Still love ya! But really, this isn't just a male/female role kind of thing - this is a
MARRIAGE thing. Something that I learned from my mom - and now do in my own home.

We do the "twenty minute pick-up" before Nathan comes home. Set the table. Prepare dinner.
Sometimes I take a few minutes, when I'm not in super model form, to re-fix my hair and make-up.
It brings SO MUCH PEACE to the evening when I've got this act together. I purposely don't plan
play dates or grocery shopping trips in the late afternoon so that we can BE HOME and BE READY
to BE FAMILY. Without all the mess or dinner rush - we have time to relax, unwind, talk to
each other, and play in a mostly stress-free environment.

DISCLAIMER: And of course there a bad days.
There are days I don't make my bed or get dinner on the table in time.
There are days my husband comes to the door and he's lucky if I'm out of my pajamas!
No head in the clouds over here, but I've got a vision - a plan - something that I am able
to stick to most of the time because I know how much joy and peace it brings my whole fam.

You're probably bored now. Great.

So yes. You better believe my boys are gonna have some skilz.
You're welcome, future wives.