Tag Archives: children

Homemade Baby Food

I am starting to feed Michaela chunky food and she does really well with it.

Here’s my latest combination with pictures of the taste test.

Slow Cooker plain cooked chicken, steamed brown rice and butternut squash with just a touch of water. 100_1932


She absolutely loved it.100_1930100_1927100_1929







For the Love of Women series Part 4


When I started this series, I was thinking mostly about the way women always put down other women. How we evaluate ourselves within the realms of other people’s opinions. How we feel hatred within and towards our own bodies. But it is so much more than that. How we treat others and ourselves teaches our children how to treat others and themselves. How we define ourselves will directly influence our children’s definition. 

I’m sitting here at my computer to write this post and I look over to see my daughter looking at me from her high chair next to me and she smiles, showing both newly arrived teeth. I turn my head just a bit more and I see my son setting at the table playing educational (and fun) games on daddy’s computer. We do this often, sitting together so I can get some of my computer work done. It works out pretty good, even more now that Michaela is able to play with toys.


On two occasions, these precious children have been referred to as “overweight”. Michaela is almost 7 months old, and is just now starting to be mobile. Jacob is almost 5 years old and is constantly moving. It angered me. It angers me that these “weight guidelines” are so generic and one size fits all. Why do my children need to be the same size as yours? Or vice versa? Why is it so wrong to be individually sized?

In Part 3 of this series I stated all the things about myself that are not to my liking, my inner dialog. I feel those thoughts often. But you know what? That was the first time in a while where I have given them voice outside of my mind. I refuse to allow my son and daughter to hear me put myself down. Why you ask? Well let me share my thoughts.


If my son hears me talk about how I need to lose weight, have a tiny waist, a smaller nose, etc., then what am I teaching him? . When he starts dating (you know, when he turns 30…J), he will think the most important thing to look for is slim, tiny waist, perfect face instead of a beautiful mind, kind heart and loving spirit. Then he is just another guy who only judges a woman by her outward appearance instead of her inner qualities.


And my daughter, what does she learn? It will affect her the most. She learns that she is not good enough, not slim enough, not pretty enough. She learns that it’s not about being healthy but about having a tiny waist. She will fall for the first guy to pay her a compliment.  When we pass on that body hate to our daughters, guess what? They pass it on to their daughters and they to their daughters and so on. It’s a generational curse of sorts.

The recent stories of model pictures being Photoshop edited to look smaller and the new clothing sizes established by some clothing stores/lines are promoting an unhealthy and unrealistic challenge for impressionable young girls.  They are bombarded on the television, magazines, internet and from their friends.

Don’t they deserve to have someone show them that they are beautiful however they look? Shouldn’t that come from us the parents, the mothers showing them that they should love their own bodies?


In the next installment, its time to start changing things. Time to find out how to be a body love role model and teach our children how to love their bodies. Time to break that generational curse and societies standards.

Date + night =guilt?

So the kids will be spending the evening with one of my sisters tomorrow night so that daddy and I can have a “date night”. We don’t go out, just the two of us, very much. Matter of fact, this will make the second time in 2014.

I’m looking forward to going out and doing whatever we decide to do. We are torn between dinner and a movie, or rent a movie and get takeout and just relax at home. Personally, I’m kind of opting for the latter.  But whatever we choose, it will give us time to relax. Something of which I definitely need.

I love my children very much. They are my whole world. I love that I can be at home with them. I appreciate that Mickey goes to work each day so I can.

But my goodness, it’s so hard!

Don’t get me wrong, I have been a single working mom and a working mom. So I know that is hard too. But nothing prepared me for how bone aching weary I would be at this point in my life. Now, granted, I am 40 years old and still carrying extra weight from both pregnancies and not to mention what I already carried. But nonetheless, it amazes me that I wake up tired and aching in areas I don’t remember having used.

Being a stay at home mom means that I am available to my children whenever they need me and they seem to need me 24 hours a day and seven days a week. And I do mean me, my son especially will not let anyone else, not even Daddy, help him. And my daughter has already exhibited the same tendencies. So that means very limited relaxation or personal time.

And yes I get frustrated, tired, grumpy, unhappy and downright depressed sometimes, to name just a few of the emotions I feel at any given time. But what I don’t understand is why, when faced with the prospect of a date night out, do I feel so dang guilty? It’s as though my mind is trying to say that every minute should be devoted solely to my children. But that can’t be healthy. Keep them safe, feed them well, bathe them often, love them devotedly and raise them responsibly.  But also they need to experience the truth of me. See me when I write, play, cook, make jewelry, scrapbook, etc. Those things which define me as a person, both material and emotional. And if I lose myself, the only thing left are the emotional outcries.

When I get to the point that I am extremely in need of a time away, I am at the point where I no longer see myself, just “mom”. What is more important than being “mom”? Thinking that I should be able to have it all is I think a major source of my guilt. Why can’t I have wonderful children who want me with them all the time? And a partner that loves me, imperfections and all, just the way I am? And still do the things I like to do? I feel guilty for wanting all of those things. And when something needs to be cut out, its usually the things I want to do.  My guilt is a waste of time and energy. A waste of precious time taken from living my perfectly crazy life with my family.

Am I the only one? Do other parents feel guilty when they take time away for non-work reasons such as a date night or out with friends?

Why did I sign up for this?

Why did I sign up for this?

I used to think being a mom would be so easy. Reading stories, playing games with someone that really wants to play, lots of hugs and kisses. It would be the life.

But what my child self didn’t know as I watched my mother seemingly float through being a great mom, was the other stuff that goes with the job. For instance, who knew how many times you would have the 3 P’s on you. (In case you aren’t sure what the 3 P’s are; they are puke, poop and pee.)

Or that you would worry so much about whether some one has had a daily bowel movement.

I think the one I was most unaware is the fact that when I became a mom, I became the most worried person in the world. I used to be so carefree. I could run in a field behind our house without worrying about snakes or sticker burrs. But now, I worry about my 4 year old son playing outside even when the grass is freshly cut and both his daddy and I are out with him. And I know its illogical to worry about everything. Of course, he is going to get scrapes and cuts. Possibly, even a broken bone within his childhood (hopefully, not anytime soon).

Then, of course, there is the external “stuff” I didn’t know moms dealt with. Like grandmothers, for instance. Don’t get me wrong I love my mother and my mother “in-law”. But for some reason once you have provided a grandchild for them, apparently you lose some of your common sense thinking ability. Advice becomes unwarranted and freely given. And criticism is also freely given.

So why do we do it? Why do we let are bodies endure the wonderful torture of pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood? Well, for me, despite the worry and the fact that my heart breaks with each tear my children cry, its the love I see in the eyes of my baby girl when she looks at me, its the smile she gives me(and her daddy) that she doesn’t share with just anyone, its the fact that when my son does something for the first time on his own I am the one he runs to tell, and its when he gets hurt that my kisses are the ones that make the booboo go away.

And even in those times when I feel like I’m making a terrible mess of raising them, I know that I have to be doing something right. Because with all my imperfections, they love me.