The beautiful delusion.

I read an  article  in The Huffington Post yesterday about this photo shoot of "real" women and what "real women" look like naked. In all honesty, the photos were Eeeh.  I wasn't really impressed either way and I thought compositionally they were boring.  These were volunteers, not models. They were regular ladies, not super glammed up. Whatever.

I thought the comments were the most interesting thing about the article and photos.  People were outraged that they were forced to look at these images of women who did not look like airbrushed Victoria's Secret models.  How dare they call these women "Real Women." Women who were smaller and more in shape than the models were outraged at the suggestion that these "obese" models were being called more "Real" than the size 2 commenter. Men were offended and expressed their distaste for the bigger girls and made it clear that they would not be interested in dating the models. (umm, I'm pretty sure the models are okay with that) Some people felt that "un-fit" is
"un-healthy" and therefore NOT attractive. Some people thought the photos were beautiful and natural. Most were not cool with it. Most were angry. Angry at the models for not being perfect.

Oy to the Vey, people!

Let's step back for a minute.   I have so many thoughts about this. The question isn't just what are we teaching our daughters about body image and self esteem, but also, what are we teaching our sons?  By bombarding them with a very narrow interpretation of what beauty is, are we sabotaging their expectation of what the average woman looks like? 
Everyone has their personal preference of what they find attractive in a partner, obviously. But what if that partner changes a bit? What if their body changes through the child bearing years? What if your partner decided to get tattooed? What if they begin to get crows feet and laugh lines? What if your partner needs a mastectomy or another surgery that left them with scars? Can we still think them beautiful? 
I don't think beauty means perfection. I don't think beauty should mean perfection. It's an impossible standard to live up to. 
I don't think beauty means option A or option B. Can't more than one thing be beautiful?
Also.... Can we stop thinking about our appearance SO SO MUCH and just live our lives? I think it's extremely important to be healthy, for sure, and I think that is an excellent thing to teach our children, to love yourself enough to take care of yourself. To eat foods that are healthy for your body. To exercise your body and keep it moving. I'm just not comfortable with the constant focus on the physical. Or the insinuation that your self worth should be in direct relation to how attractive the masses think you are.

beautiful.

 

 

Also beautiful. 

This is coming from a sort of vain girl. I would never leave the house without my hair and makeup done. I wouldn't think of going out in anything resembling sweatpants or pajama pants. I exercise and try to be strong and fit. That being said, I don't want to be weighed down (no pun intended) by worrying what other people are going to think of my appearance. I especially don't want people being angry at me for not being perfect. I don't want to be angry at myself for not being perfect.

What the hell, people??!!

We are so busy hating our bodies and our selves that we are teaching our daughters to do the same thing. Even if we tell them they are beautiful, they hear US tell ourselves we are SO NOT.  We are teaching our sons that women are never beautiful enough. Or worse yet, that it's a women's JOB or duty or whatever to strive for physical perfection.
 
I know this is an age old discussion, but what I get out of it is that I need to be kinder to myself so I can set a healthy standard for my children. If they have any chance at having a normal relationship with themselves or a partner, I have to set a good example for them. It somehow feels easier and more natural to love myself if I'm doing it for them. Crazy, huh??

A day of Luuuurve.

We've been MIA lately because everyone has been sick. I mean....siiiick. We've pretty much quarantined ourselves and are ready to socialize again.  Please, spring....come quickly!!! 

Hello? Spring? Are you out there?

So with our lack of human contact, Max was especially excited about Valentine's Day.  He loved the thought of a day dedicated to showing people that you care about them.  I told him to think about who he wants to send a valentine to and we would come up with a plan. There was no time for that.  Max had a plan of his own.  We would make special heart shaped cookies and decorate them with pink frosting and white writing on them.  there would be NO deviating from this plan.  When you're four....you don't wing it. You stick to the plan! Or else.


Amazing Sugar Cookies

2 1/4 c. flour
1/4 tsp salt
1 c sugar
3/4 c butter
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
2 tsp almond extract

combine sugar, egg, butter, vanilla and almond in mixer

add flour and salt

form dough into a ball and knead by hand until well blended

roll out and cut shapes.

bake at 350 for about 8 minutes or until bottoms are just browning.

                                                 Throw it in the KitchenAide and mix it all up

                                                      Knead it a bit before you roll it out.

Ready to bake!

  Then we put together his little Spider man Valentines and got ready for playgroup. ( Max volunteers at this awesome playgroup that teaches social skills to wee ones.  brilliant idea)
While he was at playgroup, they made a craft.  Max wanted to make more valentines for ALL his friends. Their plan was to make one, but the kid couldn't stop there. We left there with a pile of valentines to drop off at his friends houses.  My heart was overflowing.  This little monkey spent SO MUCH TIME thinking of other people.  At no point did he ask where HIS valentines were.  He got so much joy out of giving to people he cared about. He gave away every single cookie we made and he never even got one.  He had no regrets.
When Kevin got home from work they cranked out a few more valentines.  The kid was hooked!

                                                                More Valentines!! MORE!              

Our doorbell rang and his friends were standing there to drop off valentines they made for Max and Lula.  I thought he would split in half with excitement.  The boy is in love with love and giving and the magic that happens when you do.  I am a proud mama.

Pizza Party!

The boys had been shoveling and playing in the snow all day.  When they finally came in they were ready for a snack.  I'm still sick and just don't feel like cooking.  You know what that means???
Pizza party!!!

This little monkey loves to shovel! 

 

Planning his attack from the safety of a snow bank.

Dive bomb!!!

I love this recipe because it is so completely basic and needs no prep time. It's stuff I already stock in my cupboard so in a pinch it's a great go to.  I also love that it doesn't need to rise because...really, who has time for that?   I guess what I'm saying is this is the lazy man's pizza recipe.

 * recipe for 1 individual size pizza*

1 package dry yeast
1 tsp sugar
1 c. warm water
2 1/2 c. flour
1 tsp or so salt
2 tsp olive oil

Dissolve yeast and sugar in warm water.
Add flour, salt and oil
Knead, let rest for just a few minutes.

                                                                     roughly mixed

                                                            Kneaded into a nice little ball

Turn dough out on a floured surface and roll it out into a round. (confession...I don't roll it...I just smoosh with my knuckles until it's right.  It's quicker that way.  Also....don't judge me, I told you this was a recipe for the lazy)

                                                                       Smoosh it out

Use whatever toppings make you happy and bake at 450 for about 15 minutes.

My family likes to kick it old school with crushed tomatoes, lots of basil and garlic and Mozzarella cheese.

                                                      "more cheese"  was what I was told

                                                                        Aaaand Done! 
                                                        





Pesto and roasted red peppers with a little bit of mozzarella and a sprinkle of Peccorino Romano cheese is my favorite.


What are your favorite pizza toppings?

Lazy Days

We've been quiet on the blogging front lately because we've all been under the weather.  The kids have had pink eye, which,  gross.  And  I've been fighting off some kind of yucky virus for days.  We're never sick, so when my kids are oozing funk from their eyeballs I tend to ever react and assume they have Ebola. 

That being said, I've been pretty unproductive the past few days.  The kids are watching TV, and too much of it.  There's a lot of whining going on.  Mostly me.   And I don't even remember what I've been cooking.  God bless my family for eating whatever I put in front of them for fear of upsetting me when I'm sick.

but there's a lot of this going on....

                                                                      Legos galore





and this...































                                                                                               I'm sure they're plotting against me





and this......

                                                God help me with this face.  I want to bite it.

Go forth and be awesome...

When I was pregnant with Max I didn't have any sort of preference of what gender I wanted the baby to be.  At all.  I never felt a pull either way. I instinctively knew he was a boy...so when we found out through ultrasound that he was in fact a boy, I wasn't at all surprised or elated over the gender news.  I really just wanted a healthy baby and the rest was just details.

Maxwell Rocket and me.

 

 Max was 3 when I got pregnant with Lula and everyone assumed that I wanted a girl because, you know, " You already have a boy...so...."
Again, I never felt a pull either way.  I was elated to be pregnant. Period.   I was in the boy zone and loving it, so having all boys would have been totally great with me.  I never fantasized about having a little girl, a little mini me, a princess, a girlie girl.  But I wasn't AT ALL opposed to the idea, either.  I mean, Girls are cool.  Boys are cool.  Babies are babies and there's no difference in raising them, right?   Then we found out  through ultrasound we were having a girl.  I was stoked that the baby was perfect and healthy.  I thought, "Ok.  Cool.  A girl.  Now we can plan for a girl." It would have been rad news either way. 

Then I started thinking and processing that we were having a girl.  A GIRL.   I started thinking about tutus and pink chucks and hair bows and OHMYGAWDHOWCUTEISTHAT???  Stoked set in.  Hard.

Luciana Tallulah Belle and me.

 

 

 

Then I started to worry about things like, " I hope she's strong. I hope she's smart,  I hope she's beautiful, I hope she's confident, I hope she doesn't have body image issues, I hope she's self assured"...and on and on and on infinity. Suddenly, having a girl seemed scary and complicated. How was I going to manage to NOT screw this up?? I didn't want to put my issues on her. I just wanted her to be......I don't know...whoever SHE is.

                                                               Girliest girl ever! 

Why did I have all these concerns with Lula and not Max?  With Max I  just thought..."you're awesome...so go forth and be awesome" Why didn't I have the same concerns with him?  Shouldn't I worry that he be beautiful, smart, confident and strong?  Did I just assume he would be?  Yea.  I think I did.  (And he is..)  If I have that peace that he would just "be awesome" could I find that peace for her too?

Now Lula is here, she's only 8 months old and we are still getting to know her, but she IS beautiful confident, smart and strong.  Good lord she is strong.   She has a will of steel and a temper to match.  She's amazing.  We are all completely in love with her. obviously. 

I mean...look at that face!!   I melt.

That's my plan for how to deal with all the other concerns I had.  We're just going to love her (and her brother).  I think it mostly IS the same for boys and girls.  They're not going to be perfect.  They're going to test us.  They're going to make us crazy.  They're going to stumble and we are just going to love them.  That's where my plan ends.  Just love them.  Make sure they know they are loved.  Love them until they can handle no more love.  Love them into submission.  Love the sense into them. Love the heck out of them.  
While I'm still totally in the Boy Zone, and I'm still completely over the moon for tutus and Chucks,  My strategy for raising them each is the same.  When they wipe off my kisses I tell them, "I don't care.  It already went straight to your heart. You can wipe my love off your face, but it's inside you for always. Deal with it.  Now go forth and be awesome."

Saturday night we went on a date.  A proper, let's get a babysitter, get dolled up and go out just the two of us DATE.  A little adult time.  Time to reconnect.  I don't mean  bow chicka bow wow sexy time....just a chance to be together and not have to worry about tiny humans pulling on you every 30 seconds.

                                            


So out we go, just the two of us.  We talk about life, music, whatever. We don't care.  It's just amazing to be able to talk without being interrupted 1000 times until you don't even care to finish your thought.

                                                                   My handsome date
                                                               





 It's nice to feel like a couple again.  To feel pretty for a little while, because I look like a straight up homeless person when I'm home with the kids.  Is that bananna smeared on my shirt?  Or is that boogers?  Did someone seriously wipe their nose on me? 

It's amazing to laugh and talk and just...be.

It's amazing to have people that you trust to watch your children. 

It's amazing to come home to this...

and this....

I feel like a lucky girl.

I am wonderful...

"Please don't climb on the furniture.
Get down please.
THAT is NOT how a gentleman acts.  Get DOWN.
MAX!!! PLEASE stop jumping, climbing, tumbling, rolling, bouncing, walking and flipping on the furniture!  Why do I have to ask you 10 times to do the same thing???!!!!???"

"I'm a wonderful boy."

Sigh.

As aggravated as I want to be in that moment, I had to smile. This kid is on to something there.  Even if you are screwing up, or if people around you aren't 100% pleased with your behavior, You are still an awesome human. No one is perfect, but it doesn't change the fact that we are worth loving and appreciating.

 It's so hard to go through life and not get a little beaten down and your spirit broken by all the bumps along the way. 

At the end of the day I'll think about conversations I've had with people and think, "Oh..I should have said that differently, or UUUUGH. I wish I hadn't said that at all."  I mean...I do this ALL THE TIME.  I lay awake at night and cringe at the things I've said and done and hope they don't think worse of me. Or less of me.   At no point does the thought " I'm a wonderful girl" cross my mind. 
It's almost like the negative thoughts and insecurities are more easily accepted and believable to me.  What IS that??? Why???  Do we, as adults,  prefer the insecurities rolling around our head 24 hours a day?  Of course not!  What kind of lunatic would?

I know that I'm not judging others nearly as harshly as I judge myself.  It seems silly to think that others are dissecting my every word and action. Who has time for that?


So here's the take away, folks.....are you ready??  Let's all just lighten up on ourselves. Let's cut ourselves a break. Let's strive for improvement but be a little kind to ourselves in the process, because, you know what?  There are tiny eyes and ears on us at all times.  If I'm constantly cutting myself down, am I not teaching my children to do the same to themselves?  I mean....If they are part of me, and I find myself so displeasing, won't they assume they too are displeasing?  Not on my watch, friends.

"Yes. You are a wonderful boy. The most wonderful boy. So please get your wonderful behind off my furniture."

Random Acts of Cookies...

Back in October we heard a knock at the door and when we opened it, there was no one there.  On our porch sat a lovely bucket filled with Halloween fun. Stickers, coloring pages, just random stuff. This made my child's entire life. He's talked about "The time we were Boo-ed" for ages.  It wasn't the contents of the bucket, but just the fact that someone thought of us and surprised us and oh my god how awesome was that?  The tradition is to Boo 2 more people, but how could we stop at 2?  I think we boo-ed 4 or 5 houses.  It was so exciting to make other people as happy as it made us when we were the ones being surprised. 
This got me thinking.  Why do we have to wait until Halloween to spread the love and surprise people?
So the other night we made a batch of cookies, packaged them up, wrote a little note about how we appreciate your general awesomeness...and we went Cookie Bombing!! I've decided to do this once a week. Everyone needs a little reminder that they are appreciated, and what better way than to drop off some fresh baked cookies at their door?  Plus...nobody likes a ding dong dash more than my kid....sneaky is his forte.

Inspector #9 making sure the quality is up to par.

I think it's fun to make other people happy.  I think its amazing to see my kid find joy in making other people happy.  I think we live in a time when we focus on only what's going on in our own homes and tend to get wrapped up in our own day to day.  Every now and then it's great to let people know they are appreciated and that other people notice how great they are, or what a great job they did, or just..I like you.

                                                     COOKIE BOMB!!!!  Yes! I love it! 


*If you received a phantom cookie package this week, it was NOT us.  I have no idea what you're talking about.

Too much pressure...This pressure got to stop...

I think my kids are brilliant.  Obviously...I mean, everyone thinks their kids are brilliant, right?  I get asked questions like, "Oh! Is Lula crawling yet?" Umm...no. She sits on the floor and screams and then gets kisses, though.  She's just busy being generally adorable right now. That's pretty brilliant in my book.  I know she'll crawl. At some point. Max did.  I don't remember when, I never kept track of that stuff.

 So. Stinkin. Cute.

 

It continues as they get older.  I get asked if Max is reading yet. He's four. No, we're not reading yet. I suspect he's recognizing words here and there, but no, he's not yet conjugating his verbs in Latin. (you can't see me, but I'm rolling my eyes right now) I know Max will read. I don't know when. I don't really want to push the issue. I want him to have a love for reading, rather than have the ability to read 6 months sooner and be totaly frustrated with it. I want him to think learning is fun. "Lets read about the respiratory system, then we can read about superman's superpowers" He'll say. It's all interesting and fun to him. Why should that end?
I'm not saying our kids shouldn't be challenged, but Jeese Louise, can we all just relax, take a beat and let them be kids for 5 minutes before making them prove themselves?
 What's the rush you guys?  Why do our kids have to grow up by next Tuesday? 
We unschool Max, which means we play it fast and loose. We let Max decide what he is interested in learning about. He's  interested in human anatomy, the solar system, volcanoes and superheroes right now. We go to the library and take out tons of books on the topics he's interested in every week and we read read read and talk about it and do projects and look for videos on the subjects.

Reading up on anatomy....As you do when you're 4.

 

We just live our lives and surround ourselves with the topics that interest us.  I'll take out books that he's not yet interested in, but I think he may be. We read them. Sometimes it opens a new door, sometimes not. It's cool either way.  We play with Legos and cars and go to the park and hang out with other kids and have fun. We have FUN.  Because they're kids and kids are supposed to have fun!

We wear costumes just for fun and climb everything in sight. Just to see if we can.  (we usually can)

There is so much pressure for our kids to hit this mark, this milestone. What for? I just don't get it.  I would hear from other parents things like, "My little Rodney was potty trained at 8 months old.  I would just hold him over the toilet every 20 minutes and eventually he would go."  "Oh wow. That's incredible." I would say.  What I meant is "Oh wow.  That's insane. "  I mean, it's cool, if that's what you want to do....but I would rather use that time to play with my kid. Or cuddle. Or do pretty much anything but that.  What's the goal there?  At 8 months the kid can't GET to the bathroom by themselves, so it's not saving you any time, trouble or effort. If the kid doesn't make it, do they feel bad about that? Like they failed? At 8 months old?? Is the goal just to tell people that your kid is ahead of the curve? It just feels too complicated to me. Max was eventually potty trained and I don't remember when it happened. It doesn't really matter.  I knew he would get there. And he felt awesome when he did.
I'm not judging other parents for the way they want to do things.  I just have to check myself every now and then when I feel myself get wrapped up in it, or giving it too much thought, or comparing my kids to other peoples kids. I have to remind myself to stay in the moment and stay in sync with my little ones. "don't look left or right.  Look only at what's in front of you" I tell myself.  I know other people think the way we do things is crazy, or off beat because we get TONS of unsolicited advice about our kids. I know they mean well and it's out of love, but I know what's working for our kids. Am I an expert on early childhood development? No. Absolutely not.  I'm full of shit most of the time. I'm just a mom who's running on instinct. Who wants the best for her kids and wants them to be happy, confident and well adjusted. Like every other mom, I guess.  Whatever.  I have pillow fortresses to build.

Happy Meal. For real.

"Max, Are you hungry for lunch yet? "   "Yes!!  I want a Happy Meal! A cheeseburger Happy Meal, actually."
Well, kid.  You're out of luck.  There is no freaking way I'm feeding you that.  Of course I don't say this to him, I say, "Sure...coming right up!"

I get out the TVP (Texturized Vegitable Protein)
Mix it with some hot water, onion, garlic, bread crumbs and an egg.
Fry it up in my good old cast iron frying pan...

and add something fun, like tattoos or stickers, mini bubbles or some trinket from the dollar store.

                                                                Tattoos are always a win.

And you have one happy kid eating his healthy lunch, a happy mom, and everyone wins. 

                                                                Even Lula likes it!



Fool 'em with trickery, folks. 

Celery Bean Soup.

It's a grey dreary New England day. The boys are watching soccer..Liverpool/ Man U I think. Lula is napping and I do believe I will make a nice pot of soup. (My mom would always say that.." Let's have a NICE salad, shall we?" " Let's make a NICE snack."  as opposed to a terrible one, I guess.  HA!)
Anyway, It feels like a good day for some comfort food.

 My Nonni would make this soup and it was always a huge crowd pleaser. She was protective of her recipes, though,  and if you asked her for a copy she would never say no....she would just give you a bogus one with some crazy curve ball ingredients thrown in.  Or she would suddenly forget how to speak English. That was my favorite passive aggressive move.  I wish I could utilize it.   So after many tries and weeding out the superfluous ingredients we now know the hilariously simple recipe.  An evil genius, that Nonni.

                  So beautiful.  I love this photo of Nonni. I think I'll keep in the kitchen from now on.



Celery Bean Soup


Cover the bottom of the pot with olive oil
saute about 2 tbsp minced garlic
1/2 small minced onion
about 4 stalks chopped celery
and 2 c Navy beans
2 quarts water

Simmer for a while
Salt and pepper to taste
Sprinkle with Pecorino Romano cheese ( or nutritional yeast for a vegan spin)

Saute the garlic, onion and celery.

 

 

                                                                         Yum.



Are you kidding me?  That's it???  Yup, but when you make it, don't tell anyone how easy it is, they always think you slaved over it.  I like to keep up the illusion.  Just like Nonni.

Imagination and time

Yesterday we made a paper parking lot with numbered spaces for Max park his matchbox cars. This has been so much fun for the little man and is great practice for number recognition. I'll say, "Park the green sports car in space #17" and Max has to find the number 17.  It's not my most brilliant idea, but it's kept him busy.

 

 

 

 

He couldn't wait to show Kevin when he got home.

 

 

Max liked explaining how it all works.  It's very serious business, you know.

 

 

This morning Max said, "I'm very happy to have a rescue parking lot for all my rescue vehicles."

It's nice to dial it back every now and then and keep it simple.  Kids really don't need a bunch of complicated and expensive toys to keep them busy.  I have to remind myself of that more often.  What he really wants is something to spark his imagination and time with us.   

Hmm. Imagination and time.

I'm going to focus on that for the weekend.

How about you guys?  What super simple ideas or activities do you do with your kids? 

Play Dough craftiness

I am really not a fan of Play Dough. It stresses me out, the mess of the little crumbs getting smooshed into the carpet. I hate it when the colors get mixed up. I feel guilty throwing it out when it gets gross, it's all very irritating (read: anxiety inducing) to me.

                            Omg you guys.  Are you kidding me?  I didn't even stage this. Uuugh I can't.



 Max loves to make the solar system and smash it on to our sliding glass door then when everything is in it's perfect place, he makes comets and asteroids and whips them at the solar system and the next thing I know there are Play Dough bits flying everywhere.  I hate it.  I probably have a mild case of OCD and I for sure have control issues. Play Dough does nothing to help my case. That being said, the kid loves it so I try to suck it up. I let Max play with it whenever he wants...which in the New England winter, is often. I'm left with a dried up mess and a waste of money. So I started thinking. Can't I make this stuff?  It would make my life a little easier if I could just whip up a quick batch and not feel guilty about throwing it away when he's done destroying the universe.

So I came up with this modified salt dough recipe...


2 c. flour
2 c. water
1 c salt
2 tbsp veg oil (+ a little more while kneading)

I threw everything in a pot and heated it up while stirring it.  In about a minute and a half I had just about the right consistency.  I divided the batch and started kneading in the color.  The dough was a little sticky, so I just put some oil on my hands as I kneaded and that did the trick. 

                                       My little assistant and his cohort in mischief peeking in the                                                      background.  Hahaha! She cracks me up.

This came together so fast I didn't get any pictures of the process. 

Max is deciding if the colors are vibrant enough for him.  He said it passed his inspection.  Whew!  I was nervous for a sec. 

 

 

 

The finished product. 

 

 

This was seriously fast and easy to pull together. 

 I'm psyched about the results and I think Little Dude is too.  He's busy pelting it at the glass door as I type.