Hello from the Florida Keys! This is one of our favorite places to visit. It’s were I filmed my Florida kettlebell workout two years ago.

I’m doing well and I have some very exciting news (at least I’m super excited!) that I’m going to share next week. There is a BIG adventure ahead but until then here is a little update on life lately.

The last few weeks have been focused on finding our family’s new “normal”…well as normal as life on the road in an RV can be.  As those of you with kids know, having a new baby is a challenging but wonderful adjustment. Trying to figure out how to do homeschool, travel, exercise, work, errands, and everything else that needs to be done with a new little person that requires constant attention can be overwhelming. I’ve kept my expectations low but have been blown away by my older boys willingness to help. The other day Thing 2 even watched the baby and folded laundry while I took a shower! Thing 1 made dinner the other night and both help with daily chores!  

I did follow my midwives recommendation and rested thoroughly for 3 weeks. When she told me about the “21 day rest rule” I was very worried about going stir crazy. That did happen a few times but for the most part those 21 days very special and I’ll cherish that time always . My days were spent bonding with Thing 3 and spending time with the older boys. I did my best to not even think about the things that “needed” to be done and instead I focused on really being in the moment with my  littles or not so littles. At times it was a bit surreal to be nursing a baby and having heart to heart talks with my teenager.

I was surprised to find myself sad to resume normal activities after 21 days of doing nothing. Don’t get me wrong I was excited to be up and about but I found myself missing those long days cuddling and nursing the baby. I wish I would have done the same thing with my older boys but I’m very grateful for my wise midwife who insisted that I do this with Thing 3. I’m also grateful to Brent and my parents who recognized how important this time was for my healing and Thing 3. I’m fully aware that not all women have this type of support and I don’t take it for granted.

I’ll be six weeks postpartum tomorrow but I won’t likely be resuming strength training for another 4-6 weeks. My labor and delivery were very difficult and my body is going to need more time than average to heal.  If I’m understanding “Dr Google” correctly, there may be some damage that is going to take many months to heal and perhaps a lifetime of conscious lifestyle choices to manage.  My midwife didn’t want to give me a diagnosis before giving my body plenty of time to heal so I’m trying to remain hopeful that my body will continue to repair itself. Fingers crossed Dr Google is wrong!

Since I’m not strength training I started walking and doing some light yoga. Thing 3 likes being in the stroller and he often falls asleep.  So I’m hoping that when I am able to resume strength training I’ll be able to go on walks and do a short kettlebell workout while he chills in his stroller afterwards.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

Check out our family’s adventures at Newschool Nomads as we travel in our RV through the United States!

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The post Life Lately – Finding a New “Normal” with Baby appeared first on Girl Heroes.

So I’ve been eating pineapple and dates, walking, doing spinning babies exercises (don’t ask), and spent more time on my hands and knees these last few weeks than I have in my entire life. (I really should have invested in knee pads.) I’ve also turned in all my Go RVing assignments, written a few drafts for my blogs, cleaned the RV multiple times, and stocked my fridge and freezer with food. I even trimmed my bangs just in case I was subconsciously being stressed out by them and besides labor is uncomfortable enough without being poked in the eyes. Still no baby. Maybe I’m going to be the first woman to be pregant forever and I’ll get to be on the cover of Time or something.

In the meantime, here is Thing 2’s birth story.

After my less than ideal experience birthing Thing 1, I knew I wanted a different kind of birth if possible. Recovering from a c-section was awful but what was worse was not being able to hold him right away and the problems it caused with nursing. With my next baby I was determined to be able to hold him immediately assuming he was healthy and my determination led to a different set of choices.

The Prenatal Days

We started trying for another baby when Thing 1 was a little over a year. It didn’t take long to get pregnant but I ended up miscarrying due to a blighted ovum.  A few months later, I found out I was pregnant again when Brent brought me some Jack in the Box chicken fingers and I almost threw up at the sight of them. Although Jack in the Box could make an 80 year old man feel like he had morning sickness.

Emotional/Spiritual/Relational

This pregnancy was a completely different game than my previous pregnancy. I still went to therapy but only once or twice a month. For the most part, I had overcome the mental struggles and depression. We had bought our first house, a fixer upper, and were busy making it our home. However, the first few years of our marriage had been rough on Brent and I and we faced some problems. It wasn’t fun but he started going to therapy with me and over the course of the pregnancy we began to communicate better and develop an even deeper understanding of each other. I’m so thankful that we chose to face and resolve those problems before our second baby arrived.

Physical

Like Thing 1, morning sickness was pretty rough but around 12 weeks it went away. I still didn’t know much about exercise and nutrition but I knew I didn’t want to gain 70 pounds again. Especially since I hadn’t lost all of the weight I had gained with Thing 1. I also knew that eating a pint of ice cream and multiple packs of candy a day wouldn’t help anything so I ate much better in comparison and ended up gaining about half the weight. I hadn’t started strength training at that point in my life but we were busy fixing up our house so without knowing it I was doing all sorts of functional fitness. I remember  shoveling huge piles of dirt at 6 months pregnant as well painting, sanding, and gardening. I was on my feet working and taking care of a toddler for hours every day.

Educational

It never really occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to do a VBAC (vaginally birth after cesarean). In fact during that time VBACs were actually more common than they are now as I would find out eleven years later. In 1999 the ACOG recommended that a doctor to be immediately available to perform a cesarean resulting in many hospitals banning vbacs over the next few years. Luckily, at the time of my pregnancy my hospital had not issued a ban. Unfortunately, the hospital has since changed their policy. Anyway, having a vbac didn’t seem like a big deal or a risk at the time. It seemed like what any healthy woman should do if they so desired.

It should also be noted that due the increase of c-sections (It’s now 1 in every 3 women.) in 2010 the ACOG released less restrictive guidelines on VBACS and said, “most women with one previous cesarean delivery with a low-transverse incision are candidates for and should be counseled about VBAC and offered a TOLAC” (trial of labor after cesarean). Unfortunately, many (most?) doctors and hospitals still stick with the old guidelines even when a repeat cesarean carries more risks compared to a vbac. Even the mainstream Mayo Clinic says,  “The risks associated with a vaginal delivery are lower than the risks associated with a C-section overall.”

All that to say I was determined to experience a natural birth and was willing to take the extra steps in education to make that happen.

We decided to take a Bradley Childbirth Class this time around and read the book, Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way: Revised Edition. It has the worst pictures in a birth book ever but has some really great advice especially for the partner. I also read the The Thinking Woman’s Guide to a Better Birth by Henci Goer. A really good read btw.

Instead of using my previous doctor who was supportive of vbacs, I started seeing a midwife at his practice and planned for a natural birth. We hired the same doula that we had used for our first birth and since I was facing my fears this time around I hoped I’d actually be able to lean into her for support unlike the last time.

Birth

This time around I was impatient and a little worried about having a big baby again so I decided to drink castor oil and have my membranes stripped the day of my due date. Whether it was the castor oil or just a coincidence I don’t know but it worked. I went into a labor a few hours later. I have a few words to describe labor.

Back labor was hell.

It felt like someone was drilling into my spinal column without anesthesia. I moved from my bed to the tub and back again. At one point, I felt like I was going mad and ran around our bedroom screaming. All my preparation felt useless and it became a living nightmare. I wanted to kill anyone said labor could be pleasant or enjoyable. Those women had clearly never experienced back labor. (For the record, I am still hopeful that labor can be pleasant and doesn’t have to be painful but we’ll see in the upcoming days.)

Despite the worse pain in my life, I was determined to have a successful vbac and had learned that the longer I stayed at home laboring the better chance I had of achieving that goal. After what felt like 10,000 years I started to get the urge to push and my doula, who was a midwife in training, checked me to find out I was dilated to 8 cm. Time to go to the hospital.

Getting to the hospital was a blur. I road in my doula’s car “just in case” and Brent followed us. After checking in and getting a room, a nurse scolded me for pushing because my midwife hadn’t arrived. My doula whispered to me and said if I wanted to push gently I could. Thank God because it hurt like hell to not push.

My midwife arrived and checked me I was still at an 8 cm. At this point I was mentally and physically exhausted and felt like I would do anything to get rid of the pain. I asked for an epidural and despite being so far along in labor my midwife thought it would be a good idea so I could get some rest before I pushed. A few minutes later I felt the relief of the epidural and it wasn’t long before I fell asleep for a few hours.

Early in the morning, my midwife came back and found I still had a “lip” around my cervix. In other words, I wasn’t 100% dilated so she pushed back the lip and asked for the epidural to be turned off. What?!?! No, I begged for it to be left on but she insisted that the baby would be out before it wore off.

Wrong.

What we didn’t know (or if my midwife knew she didn’t tell me) was Thing 2 was posterior or facing up instead of being in the ideal position of looking at my backbone where the smallest part of his head comes out first. This was why I was having such ferocious back labor. His skull was grinding against my spine. The same with pushing. For over two hours, I pushed what felt like a stuck bowling ball.

If you remember from Thing 1’s birth story I had a few issues with birth. While I was no longer totally grossed out by birth, there was no way I was going to look in a mirror and Brent was not allowed to look down there either. (He doesn’t have any issues with birth but totally respects my feelings.) My midwife suggested Brent sit in between my legs and we would both pull on opposites ends of a towel while I pushed. Ummm….no. But my midwife insisted so she draped a small towel over that area and would periodically peek under to towel to check my progress. In hindsight, it was kinda funny. The towel pushing also really helped me to push more efficiently and it felt good to work as a team.

Finally two hours later, I saw Thing 2’s face looking right up at me. He never did turn and came out posterior. My midwife took my hands and slipped them under his armpits and I pulled him the rest of the way out and up to my chest. A completely different experience than having my baby whisked by me in the operating room.

We spent the night in my hospital room and he never left my side. It was wonderful. The nurses on the other hand were less than wonderful. It seems they had to come in every five minutes for something. At one point, I was falling asleep and someone came in rudely insisted I get out of bed and sit on a sitz bath. Later, another woke me and Thing 2 up and said we “had to nurse”. But after my previous birth I really didn’t care too much. They were just doing their job and I was just happy to have not been sliced open and have my baby by my side.

Postpartum

I don’t know if it was not having a c-section or being in a better mental space or both but postpartum was much easier this time around. Recovering from a vaginal birth wasn’t a walk in the park. I had torn and had stitches but it sure was a heck of a lot easier than a recovering from a c-section. I did have some postpartum depression but it wasn’t as bad as the first time.

Nursing went well and my milk came in much quicker than with my previous delivery. I wasn’t hooking myself up to a breast pump for hours a day. That was a huge relief.

My biggest challenge was Thing 1. He and I were so close (we still are) and he wasn’t particularly excited about his new baby brother. In fact, a few days after bringing the baby home, he grabbed my cheeks in anger and screamed in my face. It broke my heart to see him so upset but with time he realized that he was still loved.

What I learned

I learned that hard work pays off. I spent hours educating myself and preparing for a vbac. I learned you have to stay flexible. Getting an epidural wasn’t part of my plan but it turned out to be a good choice because it allowed me to get some rest which helped with the two hours of pushing that followed.

I learned that nutrition makes a difference. As I said in my other birth post, I ate a terrible high sugar diet with Thing 1 and gained almost 70 pounds. While my diet was far from perfect with Thing 2, I did “watch what I ate” and gained about half the weight. Thing 2 weighed a full two pounds less than Thing 1.

Most importantly, I learned love multiplies. Before Thing 2 was born, I remember thinking how could I possibly ever love another child as much as Thing 1. I know that may sound weird but it was something that would cross my mind every so often. I’m not the kind of woman who necessarily bonds with my babies while they are still in utero. I wish I was but I’m just not. For me they feel more like aliens than babies until that first look. However, within minutes of holding Thing 2 I was in love and just like Thing 1 that love grew stronger every day until I thought I would burst. I still think that even with an almost teen and teenager.

If You are Interested in a VBAC

Choosing to have a VBAC or a repeat cesarean is a very personal decision. What is right for one woman may be very wrong for another. What is important is understanding the facts for each choice and finding a care provider who is a straight shooter instead of fear monger.  You need a provider who educates truthfully, listens and respects your body and your choices. For me having a VBAC, while hard, was worth all the effort. For women interested in VBACS I suggest the following sites.

Improving Birth
International Cesarean Awareness Network (ICAN)
VBACfacts
Birth Without Fear

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

Keep up with my kettlebell workouts, real food recipes, and more in one of three ways! 1. Sign up to have posts emailed to your inbox. 2. Subscribe to the RSS Feed or 3. “like” Girl Heroes on Facebook. Simple dimple!

Journey with our family on the road at Newschool Nomads as we travel fulltime in RV through the United States.

The post The Birth of Thing 2 – My Successful Vbac appeared first on Girl Heroes.

Still no baby here. My “due date” isn’t until April 5th so while I’m more than ready for his arrival and really uncomfortable I’m not worried. After all due dates are really just “guesstimates”. Babies come when they are ready not when they are “due”.

As I’m preparing for the birth of Thing 3, I decided I wanted to reminisce and reflect on my previous births. While my first birth was far from a tragedy, it was on some level traumatic and far from ideal. It left physical and mental scars that took time to heal. Perhaps in sharing my story someone else will feel less alone or less crazy or more hopeful or something. If anything it’s nice for me to look back and see how much I have learned and grown since the birth of Thing 1 and, of course, to remember falling in love with Thing 1 all over again.

The Prenatal Days – A Huge Bag of Mixed Emotions

I found out I was pregnant with Thing 1 about a month and a half after a trip to India where I had gotten really sick. I actually went to the doctor and asked for antibiotics because I thought I was still sick with a lingering stomach virus. The doctor advised me to wait over the weekend and if I didn’t feel better he would do some testing. A few days later, I took a pregnancy test and was surprised to find out out I was pregnant. It wasn’t particularly “good timing”. I was getting ready to move to a new town, finishing college, and on top of those things I was struggling with depression and had been recently diagnosed with a personality disorder (Borderline).

Emotional/Relational/Spiritual

It was a long 9 months. We had recently moved to Ventura from Santa Barbara and I had very few friends. Most of my days were spent at home crying. If you have ever faced the true despair that real depression brings you’ll understand what I mean. It’s more than a “bad day”. The days were long, lonely, and empty. During this time, I started going to therapy 2-3 times a week. These were dark days, probably some of the darkest of my life, but even in the midst of the darkness God gave me a few candles to guide my steps as He always does. First and most important was Brent. He was and will always be my best friend and my rock. We clung to each other through that dark tunnel and came out the other side stronger than before. Second, was my therapist and my parents who made therapy possible. I really don’t know if we would have made it through the darkness without them. Thirdly, we started going to a new church and the pastor’s wife took me under her wing. She would pick me up and take me with her while she “toodled around town”, i.e., ran errands. She listening without judgement to my endless lists of fears and worries.

For reasons I won’t go into, I really wanted a boy. The thought of having a girl terrified me more than the thought of giving birth itself. I prayed constantly that I would have a boy. Seeing that my mental state was where it was at the time, we decided it was best to not find out the gender. A few days before I went into labor I went to the mall and bought a pink dress because I figured I’d better start accepting the fact that my baby had a 50/50 chance of being a girl.

Physical

Back in those days I didn’t know much about health and nutrition. Prior to getting pregnant, I had been an unhealthy vegetarian who lived off of cereal, pasta, and canned lima beans. Once my pregnancy cravings kicked in all I wanted was meat and I never looked back.

During those 9 months I took eating for two literally. I remember sitting in class one day and eating a packs of peanut M&Ms, Kit-Kats, and Twizzlers, one right after another, when I noticed a girl staring at me. This is how I ate my entire pregnancy. I ate a full pint of ice cream almost daily. I didn’t get full blown gestational diabetes but did have to take the the long 3 hour test because of the results of my first test. It was no surprise that I put nearly 70 pounds on my 118 pound body.

Before I was pregnant exercise consisted of an occasional run around the track at college. I thought if I could run a mile it meant I was “healthy”. Once I was pregnant forget about running. I didn’t do any exercise until we joined the YMCA late in my pregnancy and I took up swimming a few days a week because it felt good to be weightless even if it meant swimming in a plaid tent.

Educational

Although childbirth is an act of nature, it is so important to educate ourselves especially at this point in time when many (most?) doctors want to turn it into a medical condition. Not to to mention how the media falsely portrays childbirth conditioning most women to think it “has” to be awful and painful. Like most new mothers, I took a class but was so TERRIFIED that I zoned out every time I was there to cope with my fear. I fully embraced that birth was going to be excruciatingly painful. Not only did the thought of giving birth scare me but it disgusted me as well. Of course I read What to Expect When Expecting which is the WORST pregnancy book out there but at the time I didn’t know any better. Unfortunately, my lack of education showed when it came time to birth.

The Birth – Classic Path to a C-Section

I went into labor on my own on April 21, 2000. I can’t remember much except that it hurt. HURT!  Of course, it did because that was what I was fully expecting to happen. If only I had listened and took the time to learn the pain management skills that were taught in my class. What would have been even more important would have been to take the time to work through my fears and preconceptions regarding birth. But I was where I was and that was at a place of fear.

What followed next was a classic path to a c-section. First, I went into the hospital too early at only a few centimeters dialated. Next, I asked for an epidural right away. I’m not 100% against epidurals (I do think it’s healthier for mama and baby to go without but so far I’ve never done that) but asking for one during early labor can slow it down which is exactly what happened. One intervention lead to the next. I was put on my back (not good) and since my labor slowed they gave me pitocin. Pitocin can make contractions unnaturally strong which can affect the baby’s heart rate. The pitocin, laying on my back, continuous fetal monitoring, and fear was a recipe for a c-section. After many hours of a slowed labor and a the baby’s heartrate going up and down, the doctor decided it was best to have a c-section.

I don’t blame my doctor’s decision. He is a great doctor and was wonderful during the c-section. They took me to the OR and upped my epidural. Brent came in and stayed at my head under the sheet looking at me with intense love and reassurance the entire time. I can’t imagine what it would have been like without him.

Before they cut me open, I remember asking my doctor if I was numb. He asked if I could feel him pinching my skin. I couldn’t so he proceeded with the surgery. The surgery didn’t hurt but I could feel pulling and tugging. Thing 1 came out and the doctor said, “It’s a boy.” For a moment, I forgot I was in the middle of surgery and was overcome with joy at having a boy! A BOY!!!!!! Our new little boy had a less than ideal apgar score and there was meconium staining so they took him to the NICU for observation.

I only got a glimpse of him, much less a chance to hold him, while they wheeled him by me in a cart. It would be 18 hours until I got to hold my baby. That was the worst part of the whole ordeal.

The next thing I knew I was given a shot and went out like a light. I woke up later in a recovery room and then later in the room I would stay in for 5 days. The only thing I can remember about the next few hours was being in the most pain I had ever been in in my life and pressing a button that gave me pain medicine. Oh and I was thirsty, so very thirsty, but they would only let me have ice chips.

The following day nurses came in to poke or prod me but I still had not seen my baby. Brent was going back and forth between me and the NICU. Finally, a midwife who owned the birth center where I had taken my childbirth class, was visiting someone in the hospital. She stopped to see me and found out I hadn’t seen my baby. Immediately, she went to the nurses and asked that I be able to see him. It wasn’t long before I was put into a wheelchair and taken to the NICU.

Thing 1 had his own room and was soooo big (Almost 10 pounds!) compared to all the other babies in the NICU. Although there was nothing wrong with him he was still under “observation”. It broke my heart that he had to lay there all alone when his mama was just down the hall. I didn’t know enough nor did I have the confidence at the time to question hospital protocol so I kept being wheeled down there every few hours to see him. Finally after a few days they released him to my room. Then a few days later I was released to go home.

For me, it had been a confusing, emotionally draining, and verging on traumatic five days.

Postpartum – Things Get Worse Before Better

Recovering from a c-section sucks. I don’t think I had ever or have since been so sore. It felt like someone had forced me to do 5 million sit-ups at gun point. But that was nothing compared to the emotional pain I felt at not being able to nurse my baby like I had planned.

Since Thing 1 had been immediately taken away from me, I had not got to nurse him much so my milk was sooo very slow to come in. When it did finally come in there wasn’t much. This isn’t uncommon for c-section moms. If you haven’t nursed a baby it’s hard to describe the desire to nourish them. It’s overwhelming and, for me, it defined the next few weeks of who I was. Since I wasn’t making enough milk I saw myself as a failure and became crazy obsessed with increasing my milk supply. After almost every feeding, I would pump for about an extra hour. This added up to 8-12 hours of pumping a day. It was painful physically but mentally excruciating. In hindsight, I was not well but we didn’t have much of a support system at the time nor did we know better.  Brent and I were fumbling along together. I, desperate to nourish my baby, was feeling like a failure and fighting postpartum depression. He, desperate to provide love and support to me, was taking care of our home on very little sleep.

Those few weeks after birth were long, dark, and lonely but eventually, my milk supply caught up with the demand. Well mostly, I still had to supplement with formula a little bit. I walked in my college graduation with a forced smile. My c-section healed and we eventually found our new normal as a family of three. Day by day, I fell in love with our new son a little more. In the process, my depression and severe emotional struggles faded to what would eventually become a memory.

What I learned – God Heals and Babies and Birth Matter

First, I learned that God heals. Not to get all “religious” on you but this is the only way I can put it. He not only healed my physical wounds but the emotional ones as well. Having our first son was a huge step taken towards wholeness. It may not have been what I had planned for my life but it turned out to be what God knew I needed. Fourteen years later, I can’t even begin to imagine my life without Thing 1. He is an amazing child and one of the best “surprises” I have ever been given.

Secondly, I learned the importance of educating myself about childbirth and facing my fears surrounding it. For many women, including myself, it’s not enough to read What to Expect When Expecting or go to any birth class. There were fears that needed addressing and I should have taken the time to learn about the possible consquences of interventions. I’ll never know what the birth could have been like had I not chosen my first intervention, the epidural. Perhaps I could have had a natural birth and breastfeeding would have gone more smoothly and not become the mental nightmare it was those first few weeks. Or not. I’ll never know.

People often say to mothers who have had a less than ideal birth, “At least you have a healthy baby”, as if that’s all that matters. While I understand the sentiment, it’s not the full picture. A healthy baby is not all that matters. Healthy babies are important but so are healthy mamas and positive birth experiences. 

I was determined that when the time came my second birth would not be a repeat of my first birth. In the meantime, I fell deeply in love my surprise baby, Thing 1.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

Keep up with my kettlebell workouts, real food recipes, and more in one of three ways! 1. Sign up to have posts emailed to your inbox. 2. Subscribe to the RSS Feed or 3. “like” Girl Heroes on Facebook. Simple dimple!

Journey with our family on the road at Newschool Nomads as we travel fulltime in RV through the United States.

The post The Less Than Perfect Birth of My Perfect Baby, Thing 1 (and what I learned from my “emergency c-section”) appeared first on Girl Heroes.

Brent was out of town this week with Thing 1  sleeping on the ground (He he!) at Boy Scout Camp.

So it was just Thing 2 and I for most of the week.  Not unlike our road trip in April.

Tuesday night, instead of going to taekwondo I decided we should take the night off to spend some special time together.  Thing 2 and I decided to dress up (the tie was his idea), cook, and have a candlelight dinner together.

We decided to document the occasion.

We almost got mommy.

There’s mommy looking a little frazzled but what else is new!

Meow Cow peeked out of my closet his fortress to see what all the fuss was about.

Thing 2 set the table….

…and lit the candle.

I grilled the steak.

Why yes!  That is a Gymboss on my belt.  Who needs a kitchen timer? Grill intervals anyone?

Then we sat down for our dinner of steak, roasted potatoes, and salad.

What can I say? He’s a man of picky fine taste.

We popped open a bottle of water kefir.

And enjoyed ourselves.

These are memories I want burned into my brain heart forever.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

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The post Date Night by Candlelight appeared first on Girl Heroes.

Saturday morning, my family and I sat around the breakfast table.  Rather than attack our “to-do” list that is the length of all of our arms combined (I’ll explain later why it is so long.) we ended up procrastinating enjoying each other’s company and making a family “bucket list”.

10 Things: Our Family Bucket List

(in no particular order)

1. Earn our black belts.  – I wrote a family bucket list about 9 or 10 years ago.  I lost my original list but this is one thing I remember being on it although at the time I had never taken a martial arts class.  I think it just goes to show the power of speaking our intentions.  Anyway we started taekwondo as a family two years ago.  I told the kids that if we started we weren’t going to quit until we reached out black belt (barring injuries and serious financial hardship).  We made a few small sacrifices in order to pay for taekwondo including canceling our gym membership, less expensive cell phone plans, and very seldomly eating out.  Brent and I considered it an investment into, not only our health, but into our family.  It has turned out to be that and much more.  There has been some ups and downs over the last two years (7 years olds don’t always like to practice) but we’ve stuck together cheering on each other.  Not only does it give us a common interest to share, we just love the camaraderie and friendship at our studio..  Anyway, we should be able to cross this off by the end of this year!

2. See all 50 States – We’ve only seen a handful but we are pretty confident this will happen.

3. Write, produce, and direct a film as a family – Brent does video work (and web and graphic design) for a living and we decided it would be fun (and usefel) to pass on some of those skills to the boys.  A few years ago, Brent and I shot our own short film. We think it would be an amazing learning experiece for the boys and, honestly, aside from family stuff, making our film was the most satisfying experience ever.  I’d love to do it again but with the entire family.

4. Play a song together – Brent is a drummer.  Thing 1 plays piano.  Thing 2 wants to learn guitar.  My entire life I’ve always wanted play an instrument.  If this doesn’t happen then I’ll pass out earplugs and sing.  I love the symbolism of all of us playing in harmony together even if I’m a bit off key.

5. Backpack through Europe – Umm…why not!  I don’t mind hostels and missed showers.  

6. Visit a Third World Country – Brent and I have been to slums in India, townships in South Africa, and through shanty towns in Mexico. Life. Changing.  It’s very important to us that we remember that much of the world does not live like us.

7. Go on a Mission Trip – We like to go somewhere with the sole intent to love on and help others in some way.  Last year, we almost went to an orphanage in Mexico but there was an outbreak of swine flu.  While that didn’t happen we’re thinking something along those  lines.  It’s very likely that this and #6 could go together.

8. Try Mountain Biking – The boys are still a little too young but when they are a bit older this could be something we all enjoy as a family (assuming my boys don’t pick the hardest trails).  I have visions of us spending a perfect Saturday afternoon scraped up and complaining exploring the mountains of Southern California by bike.

9. Be a Puppy Raiser – I met a lady at Trader Joe’s the other day who had her “puppy in training” with her.  We talked a bit about the requirments and responsibilites of being a puppy raiser and she encouraged me to look into it.  All of us love animals so it seems like a great opportunity to love on animals, learn more about responsibility, perserverance, and helping others.

10. Hike the Skyline-to-Sea Trail – The Skyline-to-Sea trail runs almost 30 miles from the Santa Cruz mountain to the Pacific Ocean.  It passes through Castle Rock State Park and Big Basin Redwoods State Park.  Sounds like a perfect long weekend!

It seems doable and if not it doesn’t hurt to dream.

On that note, I’ll leave you with one of my favorite quotes.

“The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark.” – Michelangelo

Have you ever written a personal or family a bucket list?  Share something that’s on it!!!

Hope you have a good weekend.  We have a taekwondo tournament and I’m sick.  Ugh!!!  I’ll let you know how it goes!

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

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Thank you for all the advice and thoughts in dealing with Halloween candy.  I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said all week and decided, since Halloween the “sugar season” kickoff, I’d like to delve into the issue more.

I have a younger sister.  She is my best friend.  We have the same biological parents.  We grew up in the same house in the same decade.  (Mostly.  She missed the 70s by 4 years which means I’m cooler.)  We even shared a room growing up until I tried to throw her out of the window but that’s a story for another time.  We’ve stood side my side in the mirror comparing our bodies and it’s crazy how much they look alike.  We could almost trade heads and no one would know the difference.  For all the similarities in nurture there are a great many differences in nature.  She’s a saver.  I’m a spender.  She lives a few miles from where we grew up.  I live a few thousand miles from where I grew up.  She’s rational.  I’m irrational adventurous.  She can eat a few pieces of candy and then stop.  I can eat a few pounds of candy and then stop.  Every Halloween, I would eat all my candy in a matter of days. DAYS. Jess, however, would dump her candy in her “candy drawer” where it would sit for years.  YEARS.  “Occasionally“, I would sneak in to steal some and the chocolates would look white as they were so old.  It didn’t stop me.  It was still sugar.  I didn’t (and still don’t) understand how she kept a drawer FULL of candy year round.

I have two sons.  They are best friends.  They have the same biological parents.  They are growing up in the same house in the same decade.  They share a room.  Thankfully, my oldest has never tried to throw the youngest out the window.  Their little bodies look almost identical.  But you what?  Yep.  Their personalities are as different as night and day, as is, their reaction to sugar.  My oldest will eat sugar until he is sick.  He has never not finished a candy treat.  On the other hand, my youngest, leaves half eaten pieces of candy lying around to be thrown away.  We go out for ice cream and my oldest eats his before my youngest has even taken 5 bites.  Brent usually ends up finishing it.

It is with these differences that I struggle when it comes to parenting and sugar.  I could give them all their candy and the oldest would eat it ALL within days making himself sick. Breaking my heart in the process as I watched him be overcome by the never ending cravings.  My youngest would eat a few pieces until he lost interest and it would sit getting old like the candy in the hoarder’s my sister’s drawer.

My journey with sugar has been a long one.  It has been more bitter than it has been sweet.  Just being honest.  It took me 30 years to get to the place I am now but, oh, the things I’ve learned about myself on this bittersweet journey.   In the comments, Lisa from I’m an Okie said this, “At least you know yourself and your limitations and you are ok with it. That’s huge I think. Just being ok.” I am ok with my limitations.  She is right.  To come to this place of accepting my limitations and being okay with them is huge.  I do not apologize for my choice to not eat refined sugar.  I do not feel weird when everyone orders dessert and I order tea. I do not mind saying no thank you when someone offers me a treat.  It’s my body and I know it and enjoy caring for it.

Sugar is weird.  It’s can be as innocent as the sweet elderly lady next door and as addictive as heroin.  It’s loved and hated.  It’s celebrated and cursed.  And for some of us it is a curse.  I’ve found my peace with it.  My hope is my oldest son does too.  I’ve been in his shoes.  I understand.  So I do the only thing I can, my best.  I reach out for advice.  (Thank you!) I teach what I know.  I try to lead by example.  But at some point he will have to make his own choices.  It is his body, not mine.  As crazy as it may sound, I think it comes down to faith and in 30 years, I hope I will look back and laugh.  Laugh at making such a big deal out of nothing because everything will be still be ok.  And that’s huge.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

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As a kid, Halloween was one of the most fun nights of the year.  I would sprint through the neighborhoods as if I was being chased by a stranger trying to get to as many houses as possible until the last porch light was turned off.  In a way, I was being chased except my pursuer wasn’t a stranger.  Oh no, my pursuer was very familiar.  It was my never ending craving for sugar.  When I got home, I remember dumping my loot out on the floor and after checking for staples, razor blades and other creepies, I would chew, crunch, and suck until my stomach hurt.  This would continue for about 2 days until the only things that remained were a few of those nasty peanut butter taffies wrapped in the black or orange paper.

(source)

Yet, not even the waxy nastiness could stop me.  Nor would my aching jaw.

Things have changed.  I don’t eat candy.   Not because I’m self-righteous but because almost 3 years ago I accepted my limitation.  I grew tired of being controlled by a 3 pound bag of M&Ms or a pound of Twizzlers. I tried moderation.  I tried portion control.  I tried “one piece of dark chocolate a day”. I tried scaring myself out of eating it by reading of its “evils”.  I tried talking to myself lovingly as if I was a small child, gently reminding myself that one is enough.  Nothing worked except, when I was ready, refusing it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a sugar addict.  I will own that.  There is such thing as too much maple syrup and too much honey.  However, because I don’t eat candy or other sweets made with processed sugar my intake is greatly reduced.  GREATLY REDUCED.  Gone are the days of candy and cookie binges.  After all, maple syrup is expensive.

Now when I trick-or-treat with my kids my past and present selves are at conflict.  On one hand, I want to cheer them on as they race house to house with them squealing as the plastic pumpkins are filled to the brim.  On the other hand, I know we are playing with fire and possibly genetics.  I’m quite certain, one not both, of my kids is a blossoming sugar addict.

Right now about 6 pounds of candy is on a shelf above my desk sitting on top of a stack of old Oxygen Magazines.  I’m allowing them to have one piece per day after a meal.  They think I’m the Halloween Grinch and I think I’m trying to be a good mother.  My kids may think I’m about as awesome as a peanut taffy when it comes to candy but I make up for it by joining them in the costume fun.  Brent and I as Princess Leia and Han.  If you want to see more photos of our Halloween check out our family blog.

What do you do with the Halloween Candy?  If you have kids, how do you deal with all of it?  (Any advice is welcomed.)  Did you dress up?

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

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My love,

I’ll never understand how I got so lucky.

You know there are no photos or words that could ever adequately express my love and appreciation but I’ll do my best.

THANK YOU…..

…for going through life with me

…for the thousands of kisses you’ve given us.

…for the willingness to play

…for taking care of yourself

…for allowing me to dress you up (more times than we can count)

…for allowing me to dress our kids in matching clothes.

…for always being a good listener.
(and having a good sense of humor)

…for sharing in our excitement over God’s creation.

…for being the mellow one.  

…for being there when we fall jump.

…for keeping a roof over our heads.

…for being willing to just “be” in the moment.

…for making us yummy carbs.

…for being an a leader. (Even if it means wearing a kerchief)

…for loving me for over 11 years.

What an example you are to our children.

A loving husband.

A hard worker.

A creative artist.

A prayerful father.

A quiet servant.

Thank you for being YOU.
(My favorite picture of just you.)
You are MY HERO.

Happy Father’s Day.

Hugs, High Fives, and a Million Kisses,
Your loving wife

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A Fluffy Flashback.

I really can’t think of anything much fluffier than cupcakes.

and

This post has been patiently waiting amount the other 123 “drafts” in purgatory.

A few months ago I took a mini-road trip to visit a cupcake truck even though I don’t eat refined sugar myself.
(Don’t worry I asked what they had been sweetened with before I passed.)

I didn’t intentionally dress to match the trailer.

I’m not that dorky.

Really, I’m not.

Lovely Raya who unlike myself is a real photographer.
(Just in case you couldn’t tell by the 3 cameras hanging off her body.)
Her photos are beautiful check them out.

While I didn’t partake in the fluffy goodness these guys did.

And enjoyed every bite.

I never imagined I would be a mom but I’m sure thankful I am.
(even if they don’t look too happy about the idea)

No this is not posed.
Meow Cow and I gaze out the window all the time together.

Have a great weekend.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

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The post Fluffy Friday with a Bit of Flashback: Cupcakes appeared first on Girl Heroes.

Today was an awesome day.

We had a peaceful morning schooling.
I got dressed by noon.
My husband shaved.
(nothing like kissing a smooth face)

I also got in a few kettlebell swings.

I’ve been wearing cut off tube socks “gloves” on my hands the last few days.
(I ripped a callous off on Monday.  I’m not sure why I forgot to share something so pleasant.)

Today Noah Thing 2 saw my gloves while I was swinging and his eyes lit up as if I was holding an AK47.
“Will you make me some of those?”

Since I do steal his socks to make my “gloves” I had no choice.

As soon as he had them on he informed me he was going out to the garage “to workout”.

First he bounced the stability ball.

(Don’t be jealous of my classy high tech gym)

Then things got serious.

I have no clue where those 5 lb dumbbells came from.

He finished his workout and we exchanged high fives.

Mother and son tube sock “gloves”.

Hugs and High Fives,
Jenn

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