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."