Pigs are not food....
Two months ago, my youngest child announced to us that she is now a vegetarian.
This happened to coincide with her age appropriate realization that pork = pig and beef = cow.
And my girl loves pigs. Like really loves them. Like, has a girl gang with a couple of friends and they call each other, Space Piggy 1, Space Piggy 2, and SpacePiggy 3. AND she spawns and collects all the pigs in Minecraft, AND she has created a whole story world around a family of little pigs that she refers to as Pigibo Jr. and family.
Oh, and we also finished reading Charlotte's Web and watching the movie right before all of this went down.
It's not hard to see that Pigs are special to my girl.
Yes, she even has a pig hat.
And because I am that parent who believes my kids are actual people, allowed to have their own opinions and thoughts and desires, I respect her wishes in this regard. We have been making the necessary changes to our meal planning and grocery shopping since her big announcement and so far all is going quite smoothly.
To be completely honest, this hasn't been much of a big deal really. As a family, we've been slowly moving away from eating red meat this past year, and we only eat pork sourced from local, free-range, organic farmers.
AND the thing making my life even easier is our fabulous grocery delivery service, SPUD.ca. They have a handy, dandy section dedicated to simple meal packs and boxes with plenty of vegan and vegetarian options for our family of four.
I've been letting Seven help me with the weekly "shopping" and she's been picking out one meal pack a week, based on her preferences. We've had a lovely Chickpea and Quinoa salad (which was a miracle, because up until now she had refused to eat both of these things!), our usual tofu stir-fry, and last week she wanted to have the Vegan Finger Food meal.
Gardein makes some wonderful vegan options and we've been sampling a lot of them lately in our weekly SPUD order. The Crispy Tenders are a hit with both the vegetarian and the meatatarians in my house, and the Alexia Sweet Potato Fries have been a fave for a while now.
Also, this simple meal is a great one on those hot days. It's quick, easy, and the fresh crisp veggies quench both thirst and hunger. I swear my kids could eat a whole basket of these sweet local grape tomatoes in one sitting!
We do our family meal planning and Spud shopping on Sundays, and I can't wait to see what she is going to choose for us to try next week.
Check out all the different Meal Packs Spud has to offer (not all are vegetarian) and if you decide to give them a try, remember to use the code: CREDM-CHINAA to get $20 off your first order!
*I am a local Spud Ambassador and this post is brought to you by the lovely folks at Spud.ca.
All opinions are my own and those of my picky little eaters!*
Cheers,
N~
Sunday
Sundays around here are usually our lazy days.
Except when they are not.
Like today, when The Consort and I go into some kind of weird deep cleaning marital pas de deux. He vacuums and does the toilets and takes care of small repairs or hanging of things that have otherwise just been resting up against the wall; while I wash the floors, change bed sheets, do all the laundry and dust all of the tiny things on the kids shelves in their rooms.
The kids kind of stand back and wonder what the heck has gotten into us, or find a channel that is playing back to back kids movies and try their best to stay out of our way. They have yet to catch this same kind of cleaning bug.
In the midst of it all though, I have to stop obsessing about washing all the water drop stains that my dog leaves on the floors every time she drinks from her bowl and sit back and be thankful for all that we have.
So I stopped. And here you go...
Today I am grateful for the following:
1. A husband that washes toilets - all 5 of them in this house! Seriously... in my books this is a major win and quite possibly one of the reasons I agreed to marry the guy. (And yes, I know, we have way too many bathrooms for a family of 4.)
2. Slow cooker meals that I can start at 10 AM, that fill my house with beautiful aromas, and that convince my mother-in-law that I am a genius in the kitchen!
3. My kids being just tall enough to give me what I think are the best, super-tight-around-the-waist, hugs a mother could ever ask for.
4. Persimmons.
5. My husband holding my hand while we watch Walking Dead, because he knows that even though the show terrifies me, I can't look away!
~~~~~
Grace. It is a simple thing, but still a practice. Take care of and notice the small things too.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must get out those damn spots!
n~
how many joy units is that?
The Consort has been hounding me for months (or possibly years) to read a book. Not just any book, because I do read a lot of them, but one particular book. This one.
And this weekend I caved. I had just finished a different book and was looking to start another and he, ever so nonchalantly, went to my bedside table, grabbed this book and placed it beside me on the couch.
OK, dude. I get it. I'll read the damn thing.
We all have those books that transform us or speak to us in ways others do not. When my husband was leaving his family home and taking off to the adult world of undergraduate studies at the ripe age of 17, the original "Wealthy Barber" book was given to him by his father. This is HIS book.
I am pretty sure when TC is doing anything financially-related in any way, the voice he hears in his head is David Chilton's. "Is this worth it? Are the joy units going to last long with this purchase? Have you saved FIRST?"
I fully admit that I am the spender in our family and The Consort is the saver. I do the clothes shopping for most of us, all of the grocery shopping and I am the one who buys the gifts for all the birthdays, anniversaries and holidays. Yes, we do have a family budget, that I stick to - about 87% of the time. It's that other 13% that gets TC's knickers in a knot and why he wants me to read what Mr. Chilton has to say about finances.
The funny thing is, that in the past year, I truly believe that my spending habits have changed. Or more specifically, my shopping habits have changed.
I know that part of the change has been a response to the life-altering time we experienced this past summer and from that has come much reflection on the things that truly matter in our lives. And you know what? More stuff is not IT. Another part of why my shopping habits have changed, is that I am much more aware of the influence that marketing has on us as consumers. Years of being a breastfeeding advocate and seeing the ways that infant formula is marketed has rubbed off and has me looking a lot more closely at the way ALL products are marketed. Being a blogger and a mother, I've also seen the way that marketing has taken hold in this age of new media and I am VERY sensitive to this in the blogging world. I am more aware now about the message I am hearing and who that message is coming from as well.
~~~~~
This past weekend, we were supposed to go away for a short little mountain getaway. That didn't happen, mainly because it snowed and I have crap for tires on my car and we couldn't even get out of our little neighbourhood, let alone make it 300 kilometres to the lodge in the mountains. For the next four days we had to use my husband's compact car (which thankfully has AWD and all-season tires) for all our outings. What we both noticed over the weekend is how surprisingly easy it was to function with less car. And this included multiple errands, grocery shopping, and hauling all four of us around to various activities to make up for our missed trip to the mountains.
I have also recently purged every single closet in this house. My wardrobe alone is roughly HALF of what it was a month ago (if you know me at all, this is HUGE!). I am not quite down to Capsule Wardrobe numbers, but the philosophy behind this concept is guiding me right now in regards to what I keep, what goes and how I look at clothes shopping now. It's definitely a change. Especially for one like me, an admitted shopaholic, who gets greeted at Anthropologie BY NAME!
All of these things - reading David Chilton, surviving a week as a family of four with one compact vehicle, minimalizing our wardrobes - have happened at the same time and have caused a kind of cosmic convergence in my mind about how I want to live my life and about the lessons about money and spending and the value of what we HAVE versus the value of what we DO, that we are modelling for our children.
My family lives a very comfortable life, one that I am so very grateful for each and every day. It's just time for me take stock of all that we have, not get caught up in the game of keeping up with the proverbial Jones's and resist the messaging that we are bombarded with each day that we need MORE! More car, more house, more toys, more clothes, more STUFF.
Because we really do not.
My kid is not going to remember the expensive brand name winter boots he was wearing when he was eight years old or what kind of car I drove him to school in. He is more likely going to remember that his Mom bought new snow pants for herself that year, so that she could play outside and build a snow fort with him.
And trust me Mr. Chilton, the "joy units" from that purchase will never depreciate!
n~
Filling up on and in Victoria, B.C.
Three days. It's not a long time, but three days with no schedule, no place to be except with each other and nothing but our own feet to take us wherever we felt like going was perfection. Downtown Victoria, British Columbia was the backdrop for our mini wanderlust. It was my first trip to this fair Canadian city and our first time away from both kids in a very long time. I fully admit that I almost bailed in the airport security line up on Thursday. I do not like leaving my babies, but there were too many people in the line behind me and I had my new LUG Weekender bag to break in so... on the plane I went.
When we were planning this trip a few weeks ago, I crowdsourced my friends on Facebook for recommended hotel accommodations. They came through like I knew they would, and we decided on the beautiful waterfront Inn at Laurel Point. Our room was huge, we had a nice big balcony overlooking Fisherman's Wharf and could watch the float planes take off and land every morning in the harbour. We ate dinner at Aura, the in-house hotel restaurant Thursday night and it was delicious! Scallops cooked to perfection and a creamy mushroom risotto for me and the pork sampler for The Consort (my new nickname for my husband, which I might shorten to TC in the very near future-see below).
Friday morning we woke up and headed out to explore our surroundings. One of the nice things about downtown Victoria (and there are a lot of nice things) is that you don't have to go far to find a place to eat. And most places in the downtown core are well within walking distance from the major hotels. Our very friendly airport shuttle driver told us that Victoria has the second highest restaurant count per capita in North America (after San Francisco) and after walking a good part of the downtown area for three days, I believe him.
We ate at some very cool and funky places. Breakfast and coffee at Wild Coffee. A place that spoke to my soul with the handmade wood furniture and giant Buddha head greeting you as you walked in. Lunch and chai at the family owned Varsha in Victoria's historic Chinatown district (which is really just one block). A waterfront walk and dinner at the Blue Crab, complete with, you guessed it, ALL THE CRAB!!
But I really want to tell you about Rebar. This restaurant, located downtown in Bastion Square, was recommended to us twice. Once by my friend Sarah, who raved about it and then again by a very friendly Victoria local who, upon seeing our obvious touristy-ness, stopped his morning bike ride, pulled up beside us and proceeded to give us recommendations for breakfast, lunch AND dinner for Saturday.
One block later we walked into Rebar and I swear to God, this place will be forever etched into my palate. I knew I was going to like it immediately because of the floral oilcloth tablecloths and the garage-sale-Elvis-tile-collage art piece on the wall. TC and I both ordered the Smoked Salmon, Dill and Creamcheese omelette and the juice of the day, a Smiling Buddha. I have no other way of describing this gastronomic experience other than this: every bite of this meal, and drink of the juice was like having multiple mini food-gasms in my mouth. I am not kidding, I actually moaned it was so good.
And then our waiter brought over their house-made peach and pear jam to accompany the sourdough toast and their spicy ketchup for the roasted potatoes and I moaned some more and may have thrown in an 'Oh my GOD!" for good measure. It really was that good people and I may have had dreams about it that night as well. Moral of the story, go eat at Rebar whenever you are in Victoria.
Our friendly cyclist recommended two restaurants for dinner. Zambri's for, as he put it, "The best italian food in all of Canada. " or Cafe Brio, a Canadian/Italian/local fusion cuisine, with an awesome wine list. I liked the look of Cafe Brio on their website and TC called and made us a late dinner reservation . The cafe had a wonderful old world ambiance to it and it did not disappoint. I chose one of their featured wines, the Trebella Meritage blend from the local BC winery, Church and State Wines. It was a beautiful wine, deep, fruity and smooth, just the way I like my reds. I may be hitting up their wine shop soon and ordering some online! The other nice option at Cafe Brio was that all of their dishes, from small plates to entrees, are available as half-sizes and half price as well. I ended up having half-orders of the Romaine Hearts salad and the Roast Duck Breast. The Consort had the Mixed Green Salad (with a surprise pickled celery ingredient) and the Seared Rare Albacore Tuna. Having the half orders also ensures that you leave plenty of room for desert, and you HAVE to have the Poached Pear and Chocolate Ganache. Trust me.
The food, the wine and the company was so good at Cafe Brio that I neglected to even think about getting pictures of anything. By the time we were done eating, the rain had stopped outside and we decided to walk the 20 minutes back to our hotel and soak up our last bit of Victoria. It was a bit of a chilly night, but full bellies, a warm hand to hold and loving hearts made for a beautiful walk along the waterfront.
Just so you know, we did do other things besides eat while in Victoria. We shopped at great local stores like Sitka and The Milkman's Daughter. We picked up some tea at Silk Road and a sampling of their new spa line as well. We found little gems like Fan Tan Alley in Chinatown and a local leathersmith who is now making TC a custom leather key holder. On a whim we walked into Miniature World located in the Empress Hotel and were rather blown away by this weird and wonderful attraction. And we took no less than a bajillion photos of all the teeny dioramas.
Victoria really was exactly what The Consort and I needed. A short getaway to fill our buckets right to the brim, to focus on ourselves, talk about how this past year has changed us, and make plans for a future that has four simple rules:
Simple, loving, graceful, and grateful.
n~
this is six: the reboot
Six years ago to the minute (it is now 8:55 PM), after about 7 hours of labour, I was fully dilated and about to start pushing. By 9:05 pm, I had delivered my second child, a girl. Our perfect, full-term, straight to the breast, easy-peasy girl. When my husband first told me that she was a girl, I felt two things. Panic and complete and utter surprise.
And then panic again.
How was I going to raise a girl? I only know boy stuff. I have a house full of boy stuff. I know how to change boy diapers. I can DO boy. And I fully expected to be doing all that boy stuff again with our second one - hence the surprise part of my feelings.
Under the surprise and the joy was the panic though. That first night, she latched on to my breast within 45 minutes of being born and only came off for a quick wipe down and check by the nurses. She suckled all night long (her big brother had kept my supply going throughout my pregnancy so there was no real waiting for my milk to come in). And while she did, I stared at her. I stared and marvelled and traced every inch of her tinyness and fell in love.
And yet, the panic was still there.
It wasn't so much the logistics of caring for a newborn girl baby that had me all tied up in knots (although the amount of dirty diaper wiping needed for girl babies versus boy babies is vastly under-reported in all the baby books!), it was the whole concept of RAISING a girl in this world that had me feeling ALL the anxiety. It was the feeling of being a previously (and most likely still) slightly broken girl raising another girl. That first night, all the thoughts of what her life would be consumed me. I thought of how I was going to manage to not pass on to her all of my own issues with self-esteem and self-worth? Of how I would be able to help her navigate a world that automatically sees her as an other, just for being born a girl? Of how I was going to be able to help her through the mean girl years - teaching her both how to not be one and how not be picked on by one? But mostly, I thought of how this was the universe telling me that what goes around comes around. That she was going to be my mini-me and I had better be prepared for that.
Dear Universe. I do so hate it when you are right.
She is a mini me.
Except, it's in all the best ways possible.
And while I still panic every now and then about raising my daughter in this messed up world of ours, it is somewhat less than what it was on that first day when I held her and stared at her for 24 hours straight. Not because our world is any less messed up than it was then, but because I am. And because I am fixing the broken parts of me, the ones that tell me that I am not good enough, not strong enough, not {insert ingrained pattern of belief here) enough, I am in turn raising a girl child whom I hope will never internalize those kinds of beliefs about herself.
At six years old, my own world came crashing down around me as my parents split up. No one was able to tell me why in a way that made sense to my then six-year old brain, and the messages about myself that I have carried with me ever since have been ones of low self-worth and un-lovableness. It is hard to unlearn 30-plus years of patterned beliefs about one's self. BUT... Because I see so much of myself when I look at my daughter now, in those hard parenting moments {and in the good ones too}, I get to stop and think of what six-year old me needed to hear those very many years ago and say those things to my own child.
I want the words that my daughter hears me speak to and about her now, to become the voice that she hears in her head as she grows up.
Loving words. Forgiving words. Kind words.
That is my birthday wish for her today and all her days.
My beautiful life lesson.
My gift from the Universe.
My girl.
XO,
n~
willow
I have this beautiful girl in my life. She is my constant. She loves me like no one else, is always happy to see me and somehow knows just what to do whenever I am feeling blue. She is my companion, my protector, my goof, my comfort and yes, sometimes my headache too. And since the very first day that we met, and she put her head on my lap and looked at me with those big brown eyes, she set up camp in my heart and has occupied it without fail every day of her life. This week marks the tenth year of that life and of our lives together.
This is my Willow.
~~~~~
We didn't know her when she was this teeny, but look at what a cutie she was. The runt of her litter, with what our breeder called a bit of an anxiety issue (which she still has), we fell in love with her the day we met her at 12 weeks old and two weeks later, we brought her home with us.
Then the fun started. Crate training, puppy school, 2 AM pee-pee walks and that time when we woke up in the middle of the night and panicked because we couldn't find her - she was stuck under our bed. You know, regular new dog parent stuff. Then, there was that other time when I went to work and she chewed her way out of her metal crate and proceeded to pee and poop on the floor in front of my desk in my home office, as if she was telling me how NOT cool it was to leave her.
She came on road trips to the mountains and hiked our favourite trails with us. She learned how to swim in a river in B.C. and then we couldn't get her out of any body of water, EVER! She had a boyfriend across the back alley who was the biggest and most beautiful Bernese Mountain dog you have ever seen and the sight of them playing together and then spooning and cuddling after they had tuckered themselves out is still one of my favourite memories of all time.
She used to like to sleep in very um... interesting positions.
When I was pregnant with my first child and on bed rest, she became VERY protective of me and would always stand/sit/lay down between me and anyone else coming to the door or visiting. And when we finally brought home the baby, would do the same with him. She was and has always been very gentle with her little people. Her name was my daughter's first word, besides Mama and Dada.
She knows she dropped some on the totem pole with the arrival of each kid, but she also knows that she is now loved beyond compare by twice as many humans. Two more bi-pedals to walk and run with her, to throw the ball with her and to rub her belly for her. Yes, they dress her up every now and then, but this is the price you pay for being so loveable and so loved.
She is our family dog, but let's be honest, she is mine and I am hers and we all know it. I am the one whose side of the bed she wants to sleep on. I am the one who gets the jumping up and down crazy paws dance when it is time for a walk, I am the one who gives her ear medicine when she needs it and then all the treats and puppy massages afterwards. I am the one she cries for whenever I have to leave her anywhere (sorry doggie daycare workers and pet groomers and people outside the cafe while I get a coffee for our morning walks) and I am the one whose lap she jumps on to at the vet.
I am her mommy and she is my baby and if that makes me some kind of crazy dog lady than so be it! Because there is nothing in the world that is like the unconditional love of a dog. And this one, she loves me. And I love her. How else do you explain my willingness to go for a walk with her in -40° C in the middle of an Alberta winter?
Happy Birthday my girl!
Mama loves you.
n~
R.E.S.P.E.C.T.
Tonight's post was going to be about respect. Respect for people. Respect for our world. Respect for another person's piece of it.
And yet somehow, going off on a rant about my dumb-ass neighbours who let their giant dogs run willy-nilly all over the neighbourhood, peeing all over everyones shrubs doesn't seem right.
It doesn't seem right when in a small town in America, a man was shot six times and it is not called murder. Where the people of this town are living in a police state with a curfew in place and folks are getting tear-gassed and arrested for peacefully protesting.
My dog issues are nothing compared to the fact that in Gaza tonight, even the animals at the zoo are not safe from the crossfire of the Israel-Hamas conflict and the cease-fire deadline is approaching with no clear resolution in sight.
When a whole country is essentially on lock-down because of an Ebola epidemic, my privileged little first world problems becoming glaringly apparent as such and petty.
So, no, I won't get on my "be a responsible dog owner/neighbour" soap box tonight.
But I will say something about respect.
It's a common conversation in and around our house right now (and always). Respect for ourselves and how we talk about ourselves, respect for our possessions and the home that we have built for our family, and respect for others, in how we speak to them and about them and how we want to be spoken to as well. We talk about how we can be more respectful to Mother Earth and my kids are big into recycling, not wasting energy or water and thanks to the Kratt brothers, are all up to date on animal conservation as well. The concept and application of respect is truly a daily topic in our house. As it should be.
I came across this quote from Dwight D. Eisenhower and it seems to fit tonight.
"This world of ours...
must avoid becoming a community of dreadful fear and hate, and be, instead,
a proud confederation of mutual trust and respect."
The problem as I see it right now, is that in this world of ours, the pendulum has swung so far over to the fear and hate side of things, that we can't figure out how to get back to the mutual trust and respect side.
I don't know how exactly to swing that pendulum back, but I'll start small. At home, and in my neighbourhood, and in my communities both online and off. I will listen, I will speak with respect, I will not let hate into my mind or my heart and I will teach and model this behaviour for my children. Maybe if we all started small, we would eventually overpower all of that fear and drown out the hate.
Maybe...
n~
What the tides keep at bay
There is a sacredness to the tides, stepping your feet in the waters of the ocean and having it wash away the sand on your feet, only for more sand to be washed back upon them as the waves keep coming back towards you. The ocean's edge has always been a blissful place for me and it hurts my soul to leave it every time. I am a Capricorn, I am drawn towards bodies of water and to the heights of mountains and I wonder sometimes at the seemingly opposite pull of these two places. It is as if my body craves the solitude that exists in both, that my mind needs it and that I am most at peace when I am either dipping my feet in the waters that connect us all or breathing in the pure air of a mountain top.
Every time we go away to either the ocean or the mountains, I can't help but start planning for our next vacation.The next time I will get to dip my feet in the waters that wash everything away and make things new again, whether those waters come from the top of a mountain or the depths of the earth.
Maybe I am just feeling the effects of the full moon, the tides of our lives that pull us in certain directions, that help us to see things that we haven't seen before. The tides clean off the old dust and wash away what we no longer need, tumble us around to smooth out the rough edges and make us new again.
Maybe it is because I just finished reading The Alchemist and it too pulled at my soul. It made me think of the omens in my life and whether or not I always listen to them or am even aware of them. What would happen to this world we live in if we all did that? If we all listened the the Soul of the World and followed the signs it leaves for us. What if we trusted in love and followed our instincts, instead of constantly getting fooled by our fears?
I know this is all a bit trippy, but the last few days and weeks have made me really look at my life, my fears, the things I say to my kids over and over and the messages and fears that I am passing down to them. My daughter wants to be a ballet dancer and I am stressing over this because of my own fears and insecurities and issues about having a "perfect" dancer's body. The stress I am feeling is not about finding the best dance school for her, it is all about me, projecting my own fears of rejection and ridicule onto her. I am killing her dream before it even begins and I know this and I can't stop the panic I feel about it.
Panic and fear.
I have had enough of both in my life as of late and I so want out of this cycle. Being on the island for our holidays gave me that feeling of peace and a quiet in my soul that has not been there for a long time. I laid in the waters of the Pacific Ocean and the panic and fear was washed away. My family was whole and happy and together and I stepped into those waters every day and felt my connection to the earth and both the smallness and infiniteness of my being and my place in this world.
Now to figure out how to replicate that feeling here, at home, in my every day life, before the panic and fear start creeping in again.
n~