Save Money, Save Time, Save Your Produce

Have fruits or veggies that are at the use-or-lose point? Ready to head out of town but your fridge is stocked with fresh produce? Don’t have time to whip up a produce-heavy recipe to use it all up? Freeze it!

Use-or-lose fresh produce

Use-or-lose fresh produce

 

I meal plan but life happens, so sometimes we wind up with unused produce but I’d loathe to waste it. When this happens, I grab the produce, my cutting board, a sharp knife, a couple of gallon size freezer bags, and a permanent marker.

I rinse the veggies, chop them, put them in a freezer bag, label the bag with the type of produce and the date, and position the bag flat to freeze. Next time I need to throw together a quick meal, I thaw the bag of veggies (or wack the bag on the counter, grab the desired amount of frozen produce from the bag, reseal the bag, and toss the unused portion back in the freezer) to use in a recipe.

Rinsed, chopped, and labeled produce ready for the freezer

Rinsed, chopped, and labeled produce ready for the freezer

Stir fry, pasta, couscous or quinoa dishes, rice bowls, omelets, pizza toppings, soups, stews, smoothies… the prepped frozen produce makes meal prep a cinch. And, bonus: no waste!

The Perfect Parent

There is a misconception among parents that someone, some unicorn-like humanoid, actually has this whole parenting thing figured out. That perfection in parenting exists. Yeah… no.

We’re all hanging on by a well-worn thread. Not one of us has it all figured out. It’s simply a balance, with some disguising their flawed normalcy better than others.

If we are head of the PTA, the class party parent, and the go-to for artfully designed cupcakes, our minivans are coated in a 2-inch thick layer of Goldfish crumbs and mystery goo. If our kids are wearing spotless smocked monogrammed garments, our pantry looks like an extreme couponer’s shopping cart. If we send our kids to school with perfectly arranged organic, cruelty-free, well-balanced bento box lunches, then our laundry piles have their own zip codes. If our lawns are perfectly manicured and hedges neatly preened, our idea of a homemade meal is serving Chick-fil-A on actual plates instead of fishing through the bag in a family free-for-all.

One kid or five, single parent or espoused, working outside of the home or stay-at-home, no one has it unwaveringly figured out. None of us gets it right all the time. Not a single one of us has every aspect of home, school, and work life precisely pieced together in a pristine algorithim.

We’re all flawed. We all screw up. We all have moments of parenting triumphs and instances of miserable failings. We’re human!

The perfect parent doesn’t exist. Except for the child-free individuals… they are, of course, the perfect parents.

Parenting in the Trenches

Some days you glide through smiling and snapping photo after photo on your smartphone, posting and tweeting the glory of your day. Other days you lurch and drag yourself through the hours — all 24 of them — reaching the finish line covered in food, feces, and spit-up… but you survived, they survived, and only your ego was maimed in the process (and maybe the curtains.)

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Then there are the bumpy days that are a mixture of positivity and pain-in-the-ass, leaving you winded but oddly in tact at the end of the day. Those days are commonplace, benign, and totally survivable.

Some days start out well then careen downward in an unexpected tailspin. You reel in confusion over how quickly everything crumbled. You try to determine the exact moment of hubris or foible that incinerated your glorious day. Sometimes you recover and end your day on a mediocre note. Other days… well, those are the days you thank the heavens for wine.

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No matter what your “friends'” lives look like on social media, no matter the seeming perfection of fellow preschool moms or playground parents, we all stumble through our days. You’re not alone. Parenting is hard, dirty, taxing, and wholly unglamorous.

Dust yourself off, take a deep breath (and perhaps a gulp of wine), and trudge to bed knowing you’re not the only soldier in the trenches. You’ve got this!

Seeking Harmony

Every day, in most every situation, I have two choices: harmony or discord. More often than not, I prefer harmony. So I strive to choose it.

When a stranger is snarky to me, instead of imitating the behavior I amplify my kindness. I smile genuinely, assuming the individual is experiencing a level of inner discord that has left him/her in a cloud of negativity. Often, my decision to spread kindness instead of distain, prompts the individual to shift to a more pleasant mode. Sometimes it doesn’t work. That’s ok. Another’s negativity doesn’t have to doom my own harmony.

When I suffer a personal setback I redirect mental negativity, stopping harmful self-talk immediately and recharting unhelpful thought paths. Instead, I take a deep breath and work to shift my perspective. I strive to focus on the positive: a solution and a lesson. Then, I remind myself to be grateful. Solutions give me the power to overcome the hurdle, lessons enable me to avoid the pitfall again, and gratitude keeps me grounded.

When someone says something to me I have two choices: I can allow my mind to take a negative bend and tend toward offense, or I can keep to a positive thought path and consider statements in a positive light. Often, it is simply a matter of reframing. For example, if a stranger says, “Wow, you have a lot of kids!” I could either decide to be offended by a perceived attack on my family planning choices, or I could accept the statement as a truth that was delivered with a friendly intent. Often, I find, reframing a comment’s context — realizing the statement was delivered with positive, friendly, or helpful intent — helps greatly in maintaining harmony. Choosing to take offense easily and often is a mindset, and it entirely counteracts my goal of harmony.

When I feel I am wronged, I try to respond positively but directly to the offense. I decide whether the perceived slight is worthy of addressing, if vocalizing my sentiments would prove useful or simply spawn negativity, and how to either discuss or let go of the infraction. I am not a doormat but I need not be a warmonger.

I choose resolution over victimization. Resolution will fix or at least address the issue, characterizing myself as a victim is useless and debasing. Being a perpetual victim is a mindset, and it is not one I allow myself to enable. Instead, I aim to learn from the situation, move forward with my knowledge, and focus on positive momentum, not negative stagnation.

I’ve learned that negative can become positive if I learn from it, if I redirect it, if I repurpose it to fuel my positivity. But it’s my choice. It’s not always easy or appealing, but it has yet to disappoint me.

Seeking harmony is a choice and a mindset. It’s an active, constant effort. It requires willpower and mental retraining, self-awareness, and a sturdy ego. It isn’t always a natural inclination, but it’s rewarding.

I am a continuous work in progress, constantly reminding myself and correcting myself. I’m far from an expert, certainly not without daily falters, and definitely not entirely harmonious, but I’m better than I was. It’s becoming easier with practice and dedication. And I am, in turn, happier.

Harmony makes me happy. So I choose it.

 

 

Too Much Growing

That’s it! I’m losing it. My eldest just graduated kindergarten the day before yesterday, my middle son is moving from a toddler bed to a full size bed today, and my baby has to have his crib mattress moved down because he pulls to standing. Too much growing!!!

Change is wonderful; it’s a necessary  (though often scary) part of life. However, the rate at which my children are developing, maturing, and stretching before me is unnerving.

I am their mother. I want them to grow and learn and flourish. I want them to create their own lives and flower into their own identities. I treasure their achievements, take heart that their failings will aid them later on, and look forward to seeing who they each become. Still, every step they take toward their eventual selves is a step into the big world — a world from which I cannot protect them, a world I cannot control — and a step away from me.

I dreamt of being a mom, pined when I thought it would not happen, and celebrated when each new life folded into my own. I treasure my children. I cherish these early years of long days, broken nights, and bountiful memories. These are my years with my children. These are the prime mothering years.

I can heal the boo-boos. I can right the wrongs. I can make the world a safer, smaller place. I can see what they see. They tell me what’s in their hearts. They share their worries and have no secrets. These times are fleeting. I see it slipping through my fingers… and I cry.

I cry because the selfish part of me wants them to stay little forever. Because I want them to be with me, near me, needing me. But they cannot. They should not. I am raising them and loving them so that they grow strong and beautifully. That is why I do what I do. In my heart, I know that.

But I don’t want to let go.

Wrangling 5 Under 5

Yesterday I took on two additional kids — yes, that means I was watching five children under 5 — for 4 hours. My dear friend had an unexpected move thrust upon her. So I offered to watch her daughters so she could pack uninterrupted.

My friend’s 2-year-old daughter — we’ll call her A — has autism as well as some additional special needs. As a sibling of a special needs individual, I feel at home with the scenario. Well, apparently A was comfy too.

The kids had a blast playing outside, crafting, having a dinner-and-a-movie picnic in the playroom, and A was my cuddly sidekick through it all. She curled up beside me as I nursed #3, she rode on my hip as I loaded the dishwasher, she called me “Mommy” (purely a vocational title, of course) and reached up to me with her perfectly pudgy hands,  then she’d wrigged down to go join the others.

At one point, as I nursed #3, A pulled her pint-sized self up onto the playroom sofa, wiggled herself next to me, spotted #3’s legs sticking out from underneath my flowy top, smiled at me through her pacifier, and laid her blond head in my lap using #3’s belly as a pillow.  It was precious.

#1 adopted A as her own little sister, giving A overzealous hugs and drive-by kisses. A reveled in the attention and pretended to braid #1’s long, blond, curls.

#2 bopped about playing with #1 and A’s older sister, M. #2 and M discussed unicorns and caterpillars, sweeping techniques, and lemonade stand protocol.

M advocated beautifully for verbally-challenged A, yet played perfectly imperfectly and indepently with #1 and #2. She was so tender with #3, even when his slobbery baby kiss turned into a nibble. She was herself — smiles, grumpiness, goofiness, and all — and that was wonderful. She didn’t get lost in her older sibling duties. She felt comfortable enough to be herself.

One of my favorite aspects of the playdate, though, was how it brought out the best in all of us. It enabled our strengths to shine. When Hubs beamed, seeing A happily adjusted to her surroundings, I remembered exactly why I love that man so much. When #1 sat on the deck floor so that A could style her hair, my heart thumped. When M and #2 became enveloped in their imagination game, I grinned. When #3 gave kisses and hugs to A and M, who warmly accepted his juicy affection, I glowed. When A adapted so quickly and became so affectionate, my heart swelled. When M proclaimed she wanted to stay, I was honored.

It was a nutty afternoon but it was beautiful. What a gift these children are!

 

 

Broiled Salmon with Zucchini Pomodoro

Ok, this was a hit! I threw it together in 30 minutes flat while putting away groceries and refereeing playroom mischief.

First, while preheating the broiler, I drizzled a filet of wild caught Alaskan salmon with olive oil and sprinkled it with salt and pepper. I created a tin foil pouch around the salmon and broiled the fish until cooked through. Then I let it rest uncovered.

After removing the salmon from the oven, I placed two pints of rinsed, whole fresh cherry tomatoes in a greased baking dish. I popped the tomatoes under the broiler for a few minutes until they began to blister and burst.

Meanwhile, I used my spiralizer to create zucchini “noodles” from 5 fresh zucchini. I drizzled a large pan with olive oil, then cooked the zucchini for a few minutes, gently stirring with tongs, to release the water. Next, I drained the zucchini in a mesh strainer before returning it to the pan.

I started boiling a handful of angel hair pasta until al dente. As the pasta cooked, I took the tomatoes from the oven and poured them right into the zucchini pan, juices and all. Next, I tore leaves of fresh, washed basil and tossed them straight into the zucchini pan.

I stirred in salt, pepper, nutrional yeast, brewer’s yeast, garlic powder, and onion powder. Then, I used tongs to pick up and move the al dente pasta from the boiling water to the zucchini pan. This way, a bit of the startchy pasta water made it into the zucchini pan. Finally, I lowered the heat and cracked two eggs into the pan, mixing well. Once the egg evenly coated the zucchini mixture, I turned off the heat and served.

Broiled Salmon with Zucchini Pomodoro

Broiled Salmon with Zucchini Pomodoro

BROILED SALMON WITH ZUCCHINI POMODORO 

Ingredients:

SALMON-

1 salmon filet

Olive oil (drizzled)

Salt & pepper, to taste

ZUCCHINI POMODORO-

5 zucchini

2 pints cherry tomatoes

1 small handful uncooked angel hair pasta

4Tbl nutritional yeast

3Tbl brewer’s yeast

3 handfuls of fresh basil leaves

Garlic powder, onion powder, salt and pepper, to taste

2 eggs

Directions:

Place the salmon in a foil pouch and position in a baking pan.

Place the salmon under the broiler on high until cooked through.

Spiralize the zucchini into a fine noodle shape.

Drizzle olive oil in a pan, then add zucchini and cook on medium heat — turning gently with tongs — to remove the excess water.

Remove the zucchini from the pan once heated and place in a mesh strainer.

Remove the salmon from the broiler once cooked through.

Uncover the salmon and allow to rest.

Place cherry tomatoes in a greased baking pan and put under the broiler.

Put the spiralized, strained, and cooked zucchini back into the pan.

Drizzle the zucchini with olive oil, then tear fresh basil directly into the pan.

Boil water and cook angel hair pasta until al dente.

While the pasta cooks, stir the yeasts, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper into the zucchini.

Once the tomatoes are blistered and bursting, remove them from the broiler and put the tomatoes and their juices directly into the zucchini pan.

Use tongs to move the al dente pasta from the boiling water to the zucchini pan, allowing a bit of the startchy pasta water to enter the zucchini pan as you transfer the pasta.

Crack two eggs directly into the zucchini pan.

Reduce the heat to low and stir the eggs in thoroughly.

Serve and enjoy!

Co-parenting Balance

We do things differently, my husband and I. He is the math to my writing, the sleeping-in to my early rising, the spicy potato chips to my milled flaxseed. He’s the laid-back and I am the type-A.

Despite being strong believers in enforcing limits, maintaining routine, and raising respectful children, Hubs and I differ in how we approach other aspects of parenting. These differences make us stronger.

Though timely, Hubs is comfortable leaving to do preschool drop-off at the time I am generally pulling into the nearly empty school parking lot. He offers treat snacks, whereas I dispense healthy fare. He plays physical imaginary games while I do story time. He chooses educational electronic games to fill the kids’ waiting time yet I utilize non-electronic distraction methods. He does nature hikes through muddy streams and I take neighborhood walks on paved sidewalks.

Our parenting approaches may be divergent but that’s what makes us a good team. We approach the same goal from different angles. Together we have balance.

 

Avocado-Basil Sandwich

I was looking for a healthy, filling snack when I saw a lonely avocado, a tub of fresh basil, and a container of leftover tomato slices. Then it struck me: avocado-basil sandwich!

I cut one avocado in half — covering and storing one half for another use –, washed five fresh basil leaves, cut one tomato slice in half, toasted a slice of Food for Life Ezekiel 4:9 Sprouted Grain Bread, grabbed the salt and pepper shakers, and snagged the nutritional yeast from the pantry.

Once the bread was toasted, I cut it in half lengthwise. I spread the avocado of one side of each bread half. Then, I placed the basil leaves on top of the avocado on one of the bread pieces. I put the tomato on top of the basil, then dusted on salt, pepper, and nutritional yeast. Finally, I closed the sandwich, placing the bread with just the avocado on it avocado side down onto the tomatoes. Ta-da!

Avocado-Basil Sandwich

Avocado-Basil Sandwich

AVOCADO-BASIL SANDWICH 

Ingredients

– 1/2 avocado

– 1 tomato slice (cut in half, so as to create 2 half-circles)

– 1 slice of Food for Life Ezekiel 4:9 Sprouted Grain Bread (toasted)

– 5 fresh basil leaves

– Salt, pepper and nutritional yeast  (to taste)

Instructions

– Cut the piece of toast in half lengthwise.

– Smear avocado on one side of each of the two toast halves.

– Arrange the basil leaves on top of the avocado on one of the toast halves.

– Place tomato slice halves on top of the basil.

– Sprinkle the tomato with salt, pepper, and nutritional yeast.

– Close the sandwich by placing the toast half that has only avocado on it on top of the tomato slices, avocado side down.

– Enjoy!

The Fear of “What If?”

I was the kid who pretended to be “mommy.” I wrote lists of possible names for my distant-future children. I aspired to be a mother while others dreamt of space exploration or royal appointments. I am now immensely fortunate to be living that dream.

I adore my present life season full of sleeplessness and snuggles, tantrums and tea parties, playdates and potty-training. I treasure the countless memories so much that I frequently attempt to recount past events so as not to allow them to fade from my mind.

Because of my love for this harried but beautiful stage, I fear what lies ahead. I worry about the days when my children don’t want me around as they do now, the days when errands can be quick and bathroom trips can be solitary. The days when people don’t look at me and immediately know I am a mom.

Part of me wants to pull back from my present stage, to stop myself from so wholeheartedly adopting the “mom” identity. The drive is fear for the future — an assumed future — and self-preservation. If I allow myself to dive deep into motherhood, how hurt and confused will I be when the tides change? Who will I be when I am not so completely needed or wanted, when my days and nights no longer center on giving of myself in every way?

There is another part of me — the hippy side, the tender side — that tells myself to revel in the fruition of my life dreams. This is but a fleeting moment in life, but it is a fulfilling one. It is what I’ve always wanted. Why not allow myself to experience it fully? Would I not chastise myself in later years for hindering my own experience due to the fear of “what if?”

Lawyers identify as lawyers, musicians identify as musicians. Why, then, should I not identify as a mother? When an individual’s career path shifts, the challenge to find one’s new identity is considered normal. Why would mothers entering new seasons of their career not be expected and afforded the right to experience the same upheaval?

Life is change. We change continuously throughout our existence, sometimes on imperceptible smaller scales and other times in abrupt, quaking shifts.

I must learn to accept the eventual change without allowing fear to rob me of my present. I am a mom. I will always be a mom. Each stage will simply be different. And that’s ok.