I apologize too much. Sorry about that.

I think it comes of not having apologized enough in the first 20 or 25 years of my life. With a naturally aggressive personality, I was unapologetically myself. And that sounds great, in a novel. In real life, where actions have consequences, sometimes we end up owing someone an apology even if we didn’t mean to cause them any badness. 

That is fairly new information for me. The idea that maybe I bear some of the responsibility for things I don’t intend is really difficult to get my mind around in a productive way. In the past few years I have begun to be made aware of the way other people react to things that I say and do. I blame my husband for this. J is always saying things like, “If your dad is making this face, you should probably stop talking right away.” And you know what? It’s EXHAUSTING. I never understood when I was younger why everyone thought it was so “brave” or whatever when I spoke my mind. Now I do. Speaking your mind when you have a clue about what it might do to other people is often terrifying. Sometimes I have even wished I was able to live my life without being outspoken.

Where I am right now is the place of apologizing all the time. When I’m late. When I’m early. When I’m on time. When I bring food. When I don’t bring food. When I say something and it’s awkward. When I say something in a really thoughtful way, and it’s still awkward. When it’s not awkward (I over-think things until I apologize just in case and then, well, it’s awkward).

Where I am going, I believe, is where I can be really clear about how much of a situation belongs to me. Maybe I’ll figure out which things are mine to apologize for, and which things just are what they are. One rule of thumb once I get to that place will be not to apologize if no one is upset, annoyed or even inconvenienced. What not to say: “I’m sorry I want to make this meal instead of that other meal I suggested, even though you didn’t seem to care either way…will you still eat it?” 

I will think a lot about moments when other people are having their Big Feelings and while I will certainly own and apologize for things that are mine, I will not clumsily attempt to carry the blame for something that does not belong to me.  I will remember how much that can be like grabbing at the shadow of someone else’s baggage. Because if I do that, probably I’ll just trip and fall on my face, I won’t actually help them, and then they’ll still have their baggage just like before. In the end (okay, in the middle…), I’m finding that too much apologizing is no better than not enough.

 

Five Year Old Girl

Five Years.

Five years since the rushing and the exhilaration, five years since the earth shattering and the fear. Five years since the cutting and the crying and the meeting and the loving and the thanking.

How has it been?

It’s been lots of ways. Mostly lovely. Always worth it.

You are exactly what you should be. You are exactly what I need you to be. I try -so hard- to be what you need me to be. Learning to be a mother has been so much more than I could ever have anticipated. But you have helped me. Through your cries I was able to learn very clearly early on what not to do. Even before you could talk you were always great at telling me if something was off, or if you needed something. We are still in this together. There is a lovely push and pull in our relationship because everything we do flows from the fact that we pray each morning that we would be able to do God’s words with each other; that we would be generous and kind and loving.

Thank you, little one, for making me a mother. I know it isn’t easy work. But we do it together, and it is the great honor of my life.

Here’s a smattering of photos that made me smile, little girl. I love you!

Well helloo there!

No, really, I think this morphine is making me….what was I saying? Cute baby.

Elizabeth and her Daves

Why yes, that is you, at a ren faire, playing a drum at five months.

Yeah….I’m not saying you’ll DEFINITELY be a nerd, but there are times when it does seem likely…

Easy Blender Mayonnaise

“Hey! I made some mayonnaise. Should we make some oven fries to go with it?”

“Um, mayonnaise?? What’s that??” Suspicious-of-my-mom eyes.

“It’s made with eggs, and olive oil, and salt and a little lemon….it’s creamy and delicous, see? Look!”

“Mo-oommm, are you talking about aioli?”

Yeah, I have THAT kid. One of that occupational hazards of being really into food, I suppose. I’m ok with it.

There are some great posts out there detailing the delicate differences between mayo and aioli, if you’d care to look into it. Apparently, what I make is something in between though it leans a bit more toward aioli. Whatever you choose to call it, this condiment is a staple in our house. As with many of my staple homemade items, I started making it because I was too lazy to drive to the store for it one day. As such, it was requested some time ago that I post the recipe. I think the original people who asked me have figured it out on their own. Hope so, because it’s, ah, been a minute–sorry ’bout that!

Anyhow. Here it is.

Ingredients:

1 whole egg

1-1/4 c olive oil (you could use other oil you find delicious)

1 tsp salt

1 tsp sugar or honey

(1 tsp dry mustard powder)

(1-2 cloves garlic)

(a dash hot sauce or chili powder)

3 tbsp lemon juice or apple cider vinegar (I fill a 1/4 cup about 3/4 of the way and sort of eye-ball it)

 

Method:

Combine in blender: egg, 1/4 c olive oil, salt, sugar, and any seasonings you choose to use. Blend until well combined. With the blender running on low (and hopefully through the small hole in the lid if you can; otherwise it makes a bit of a mess), SLOWLY stream in 1/2 c oil, then the lemon juice, then the rest of the olive oil. Don’t rush this part. After everything is streamed in, turn the blender up higher and let it go until it looks like mayonnaise. That’s it. Dip oven fries in it, spread it on a sandwich, use it in deviled eggs, or however you use aioli. Or, you know, mayonnaise. My friend L mixes it with pesto and uses it for dips and sandwiches and things. Ooh, I’m hungry just thinking about that.

Troubleshooting:

If you feel like it’s never going to happen (and it’s been more than 3 minutes or so), then you can either throw it out and start over (that’s sad) or remove some of the liquid, add a whole egg (the yolk acts as a binding agent and the white helps it to stop being a liquid), then blend until it looks like mayonnaise, adding back in as much of the original mixture as you can.

On surviving drama with a friendship intact

I have recently entered into some new friendships. As with any other friendship I am a part of, I have spent the first several months very intentionally observing. What communication styles are most effective, what is off-putting, what kind of foods people like, etc. It’s like learning to read. Kind of slow and clunky, with lots of sounding out words and stopping and starting again. This is what it’s like to be an outspoken extrovert who cares about other people’s feelings. And yes, it is exactly as much work as it sounds. But I don’t know another way to really be in relationship.

So the thing that happens is that at some point, every relationship has drama. It’s a thing. Not a single one of us is perfect; we are all works of art in progress in a broken world and we all bring varying degrees of brokenness and inability to deal with certain things to every relationship we have. For example: things I am unable to deal with rationally are gossip and people assuming the worst of my intentions.

When drama happens in a BIG way, it feels like the book I’ve been struggling through for months (or even years) was upside-down the whole time I was learning to read it.

It’s awful.

I think the reason so many of us have revolving doors on our relationship lobby is that we don’t know what to do after that happens. I mean, it was A Thing. But how do you talk about it? It was so bad and we don’t want to relive it. So either we walk out the door, so to speak (or maybe literally…), or we stay and pretend like nothing happened. Everything is fine. See? No one’s yelling or crying or leaving…at least not right now…I should admit right now that I am terrible at this option, as has been repeatedly pointed out to me over the years.

I think there must be another way.

What if we could look our drama in the face (sometimes after enough space and time has passed) and try to learn from it? What if we created a safe space to say, “I value your friendship and I care about you enough to want to really think about how we can communicate better”? It’s difficult, but what if we could not give up? Maybe the book was upside-down. It happens. Just keep going; keep sounding it out, one word at a time.

I do this. Occasionally, it makes my stomach hurt. Sometimes for weeks at a time. Authentic relationship is not for the faint of heart. But in my experience, it is so entirely worth it.

 

I feel like this post goes hand in hand with this other post.

Easy Homemade Laundry Detergent

Other recipes I’ve seen for homemade laundry detergent are more work-intensive. I’m lazy efficient, so I cut out the extra steps and still end up with a product that works just fine.

Ingredients and Supplies:

Old empty liquid laundry bottle (the BIG one, if you have it, so you don’t have to make it so often) or some other large, lidded container

some liquid castile soap, or grated up bar soap of your choice

Washing Soda (NOT baking soda. they are NOT the same thing)

Borax

Tap water

essential oils (not…you know…essential to this, but just if you want to add some scent. I usually don’t)

Method:

The liquid castile soap makes this much easier, but if you have bar soap that will be fine too. You just have to grate it up and stir it into a little water on low heat (do NOT boil it–trust me on that one) on the stove until it’s dissolved.

For my “economy” or “family sized” detergent bottle (mine says that holds 150 fluid oz.), I use about a quarter cup liquid castile soap, 1/4 cup borax, and 1/2 cup washing soda. I funnel all these things into the bottle, then add the hottest tap water I can, filling the container up only a little. Cap and shake gently to combine (otherwise BUBBLES), then fill it up the rest of the way. You can let it sit for a few minutes if you like before filling it the rest of the way so some of the bubbles will go down leaving more room for water.

Let this set up for a couple of days before you use it, and gently shake it (turn it upside-down a couple of times) whenever you think about it.

It’s really that easy.

Crockpot Tomato Soup (can be dairy-free, gluten free, and vegan!)

I had chicken stock in my crockpot and it was time to either make something out of it, or figure out how to store it. Being lazy efficient, and having butter and creamy kefir cheese (think cream cheese, but the kind that won’t keep my lactose intolerant toddler up screaming all night…), I decided to try a new use-it-up kind of recipe. I am kind of shocked by how delicious it was, so I’m writing it down so I can try to duplicate it again. This is also an easily vegan-friendly cream of tomato soup recipe, because although I used chicken stock I think any kind of stock would be just great.

Dairy-Free Vegan Crockpot Tomato Soup

Ingredients:

Stock of your choice (2 quarts or so)

Tomato Sauce (a quart-ish)

1-2 cups of cooked chickpeas (one can would be fine)

2-3 medium carrots, roughly chopped (I cut them into about 4 pieces)

1 medium onion, quartered

1-3 cloves garlic (I used 3, because garlic is delicious)

salt to taste

(a little sweetener, if it tastes too tomato-ey; mine didn’t, but yours might–go easy on that!)

Method:

Put everything into the crockpot, cook for a few hours until everything is fairly soft, then use an immersion blender to puree the soup. If you don’t have an immersion blender (one of those gadgets that seems ridiculous until you have one, and then it seems fantastic!), you could do a little at a time in a regular blender or food processor.

You could dress it up to serve with any number of things: bacon crumbles, grated cheese, sour cream, chives or other chopped fresh herbs, a little wine mixed in, some roasted red peppers, etc. Use your imagination! Obviously, if you add cheese or bacon to it, it would no longer be vegan, so choose accoutrements according to your conscience. Or enjoy it, as we did, as simple comfort food for a cold, Clevelandey kind of Friday evening.

Depression Is Not…

Depression is not normal in the sense that you should just “get over it.” It takes more than that. And what is needed is not the same for every case. I am able to manage very well with a combination of trusted friends to confide in, very intentional introspection, some chocolate and a few episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But that’s me. From what I understand I have a fairly mild case and there is no shame in taking medicine or seeking professional help, if that is what is needed.

Depression is not introversion or shyness. Introverts gain energy from being by themselves. Shy people, for one of a number of reasons, are not outgoing in social situations. Depressed people are people who would otherwise be able to navigate in the world but are having a hard time because of something outside of their true personality (much like sneezing because you have a cold is not part of your body’s normal function).

Depression is not low self-esteem. The fact that I am swimming through jello doesn’t necessarily mean that I don’t know my own worth. I mean, it’s always nice to be reminded that I’m great (who doesn’t like hearing that?), and depressed people can have low self esteem as well, but they are not the same thing.

Depression is not weakness or some sort of spiritual short-coming. People do not become depressed because they are not as good or as strong as other people. There are many, many causes and factors involved here and none of them involve depressed people being less capable than others of being useful members of society. Honestly, I think sometimes (though not all the time) my depressive episodes are triggered by impossibly high expectations, which I set for myself and then am unable to meet.

Depression is not being sad for a day or two.  Depression is chronic and persistent, and will not just go away if you pretend it isn’t there.

Depression is not rare. The CDC estimates that 1 in 10 people suffer from depression. And that’s just the people who report it because they are seeking help. For a list of famous people with depression, look here and here. Oh, and here.

Depression is not an excuse to disengage from the world and hide from everyone, forever. Taking some time to yourself is good and necessary. Isolating yourself for your entire life because it’s too hard, while understandable, is not what you were meant for. “It is not good for the man to be alone.”

Depression is not definitive. On the days when it feels like you’re swimming through jello, it’s easy to forget this. But the fact that you’re having a hard time is not the only true thing about you, and all of your days do not have to be this hard. If you’ve had too many in a row, you need help.

Depression is a thing.

But…

Depression is not everything.

Swimming Through Jello

Dealing with depression can be like trying to swim in jello that’s setting up in the refrigerator.

Unless you are paying really close attention, it’s easy to not realize you are having a hard time moving until it’s too late and you’re really, really stuck.

The thing is, things go along normally for a long time. And then gradually things get harder to deal with. Situations get more confusing. Normal interactions seem to take double or triple the work that they should.

But life goes on. Appointments have to be kept. Diapers need changing. Food needs preparing. So I take Ellen Degeneres’s advice and, “Just keep swimming.”

But sometimes, it’s so hard.

And during the jello sort of weeks, I tend to be less graceful than I might be at other times. I flail a bit, calling people at awkward moments, forgetting to call back at others, and generally just incapable of smalltalk.

Sometimes while I am flailing, I will try to reach out for whatever is closest. Sometimes I grab the hand of someone without being able to really explain why I need to be on the phone for a half-hour, or whatever. Sometimes people don’t get it. That’s okay. It’s not their fault; not their job to pull me out of the jello.

But sometimes, people get it. This takes many forms. A meal dropped off, an encouraging word or even just a “Like,” or being willing to stay on the phone with me when I lose my train of……………….

They will smile reassuringly, firmly grab my hand for a minute, and help me get a little further through the jello. They are the hands of God, whether they realize it or not, and the value of these people can NOT be overstated.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My Children

So, I’ve had several interactions in the past few months that have left me with the unsettling feeling that either my kids actually are the worst (because of my parenting), or that the person I’ve just been speaking with is being, well, kind of a tool.

One thing about being an extrovert is that I thrive on positive interaction. People often assume that being an extrovert means that I am naturally great at being around people all the time. It doesn’t. It just means that I really, really want to. And that I really, really want it to go well. In parenting circumstances that translates into me trying to make my kids conform to ways of being that I think other people want or expect so that they will be happy when we are together (I really, really want other people to be happy. Really.). When I fail, when I can tell other people aren’t enjoying my kids, it (falsely) seems to boil down to either that I’ve failed at being a friend, or at being a parent, or both.

I don’t want to think that people I care about are self-absorbed or clueless (and even if that happens to be true for a second, we all have our moments and no one is just one thing). But it’s also entirely stressful to continually worry that my family stresses other people out or bothers them. So I try to make it better. Maybe if I just let them watch more tv, then I can have un-interrupted phone conversations. Maybe if I stop letting them watch tv, then they won’t ask for videos. Maybe if I let them eat whatever they want, they’ll just enjoy parties and other people won’t have to be weirded out by the crazy hippie mom. Maybe if I tried harder to keep artificial coloring out of their diet, they would have better impulse control and wouldn’t, you know, be kids.

Enough.

Who is my parenting for?

Is it for the random people in the grocery store who make an irritated face as they have to walk around my four year old because she is intently looking at something in an aisle-way and didn’t realize that they were waiting for her to move (ahem-grownups, use your words…)? Is it for people who I can’t talk to without getting interrupted every minute and a half? Is it for anyone who has ever expressed frustration about my kids’ behavior?

The answer to all of these questions is no.

My parenting is for my children. That sounds cheesy, but it’s true. If I spend all this time and energy trying to make sure other grownups (even ones that I like very much) are approving, then I will ultimately benefit no one. I probably won’t even satisfy the person I am trying to please; so far my children, like me, seem to be themselves no matter what they try to do to fit in. If I try to incorporate everyone’s opinion into my relationship with my children, I will teach them that pleasing other people is more important than being clear about who I am. And if I teach them to please people all the time, they will not learn to be themselves in the world. Or, at least, it will take them a lot of extra work. I mean, learning to be who you are meant to be on the planet is hard enough without your mother muddling it up trying to make sure some judgy lady at the library can get to the magazine stacks faster. I am a person of faith, which means that as I go, I trust that God will teach me and lead me into truth. Sometimes that will be in the form of a friend sharing something true with me. Sometimes it won’t.

One final thought. Just to be clear, getting input from a variety of sources is great, and necessary. There is so much helpful information out there to be had. And so many wise people who have such great ideas that really can help me to be better. I welcome constructive idea sharing. It is how I learn and grow as a person, as a parent. I need to be challenged; I crave it. But I’m really kind of over trying to make sure that everyone I meet is pleased by how I parent my kids.

…But Not TOO Well….

This is the other side of the coin regarding a post that I wrote a little bit ago entitled Speak Well of Your Children. There it is, if you want to go look at it.

I just wanted to share this incident that happened at the library this morning, lest anyone think I am advocating for the kind of Stepford parenting that has many people feeling isolated.

A meeting of moms and kids had just let out and several moms were still standing around chatting. I looked up from my conversation to see that S had climbed up and was standing on a chair.

I said in a clear voice, “UH-OH. Hey, man, please sit down.” And then he actually did. I know, right??!!

Another mom heard me say this and looked over to watch my son angelically comply with my kind request and I watched as surprise, then admiration, then a little panic flashed across her face.

I quickly blurted out, “It’s really important that you know there are at least 500 other “uh-oh”s behind that one, and most of them were not said that calmly or heeded that quickly. Or at all. I really want you to know that right now.”

Blessed relief. “Oh, thank you for saying that. I was going to say…well I don’t know, but thank you.”

People, listen up. NO ONE’s children are always as well OR as poorly behaved as we experience them to be in any one moment.

UPDATE: J would like it to be known that at the time this photo was taken he was sympathizing, not actually throwing a tantrum himself. Just in case any of you were confused about that.