hide and seek with liver...

i'm a planner by nature.  i plan like its my job.  well, actually, it IS my job.... so i have lots of practice.  i may be a little socially awkward but i can plan like a boss.  when i learned i was going back to work full time with a newly diagnosed autoimmune disease, i went into full blown planning mode because the anxiety levels were high... a terrible combo with an autoimmune disease.  so my coping mechanism was to plan.  knowing i was returning to work while embarking on a personal quest to go into remission, i hunkered down and planned like it was nobody's business.  

i hired someone to clean our house twice a month.

i asked our babysitter/friend/adopted family member to take on some extra household tasks like laundry

i made chore charts for our kids that complimented the housecleaners

i planned menus and prepared/froze food for my AIP journey

i planned to bring my shoes to work and walk during lunch

i planned and prepped meals for tuesdays and thursdays that kjaer could easily make while i did some yoga.

i spent last weekend buying a truckload of meat from the butcher and shopping for produce.   

i have been a flurry of micromanaging and control.  it's helping me feel better.  i'm so much fun to be around.  ask my husband.

so i'm finishing my first week on AIP and let me tell you how NOT prepared i was for three things: coffee replacement, liver, and sauces.

let me explain.

COFEE REPLACEMENT

ever since determining i was going to spend the next 2-3 months doing the autoimmune protocol (AIP), i have been grieving that i would have to go coffee free.  i've always had a thing with coffee... ever since high school when i knocked over a giant mug of coffee in mr. leutkenhaus's class my senior year and the delicious smell of my too-much amaretto creamer wafted through the AP lit room (please don't tell him i blog in all lowercase!).  usually my consumption has hovered around a travel mug of coffee a day.  when whole 30 started for me in jan of 2018 i said goodbye to my sugary creamer (LONG LIVE COFFEEMATE AMARETTO CREAMER) and adopted nutpods.  it was a hard adjustment but a change i sacrificially made for my health.  when covid closed schools down and kjaer and i were alone with our three kids and working, the coffeepot became my security blanket.    i'd pour a warm and tasty mug of coffee and wrap my hands around it as i sat in front of a screen and tried to digest what had become of my job, the state of our schools and our lives.  we brewed pots a day... pots with an s.  around 3 or 4 we'd have our final cup of coffee and switch to decaf.  

to be honest, by now i probably sweat the stuff.

when my naturopath asked how much coffee i drank, i shrugged and tried to pretend i didn't know... knowing full well i couldn't tell her because it was so much i couldn't even keep track myself.  she tapped her coffee mug and said, "i want you to start getting down to one travel mug a day".  i sighed and made a halfhearted promise. 

then the diagnosis came for hashimotos.  while an allopathic treatment of it would just be to take levothyroxin, a more wholistic approach starts with healing the gut (which makes up roughly 70% of your immune system), supporting with herbs/vitamins and drilling down to the root cause with various tests.  (i also still take levothyroxine). this is where my decision to try AIP came in.  ya know, because i like to do things the hard way sometimes... don't ask me why, i don't know.  but i do know that a few times in my life the hard way has had big pay offs.  

so i fretted about the coffee thing.  i thought i had found a good alternative and planned on starting to wean myself down.  last sunday night i happily sat in our living room feeling all sorts of prepared.  i had gotten a crock pot meal ready for monday night, packed my lunch for school, had my n'oatmeal thawing in the fridge for the morning.  then i turned the bag of alternative coffee over i was using (because i had bought a coffee pot for my office at work so i could brew the coffee alternative) and read the ingredients.  there were wonderful things like chicory root and carob.  then there were things like barley (contains gluten) and ramon seeds.... which i still don't know what they are or why they are in teas, but they are definitely not AIP approved. 

this planned girl hadn't even paid attention to her "replacement coffee" because it was made of roots and healthy sh$$ so i figured it was all good.  i googled and googled to find a different replacement in a frenzy but to no avail and finally gave up.  i could not solve that problem at 10 PM that night.

so i had to start my first week of AIP with a cup of coffee (and an AIP compliant creamer... basically coconut milk).  i think i have a plan now... but just so you know... last sunday night threw my game.  i was feeling all sorts of prepared and then i saw a critical misstep on my part.  i've decided to get some caffeinated tea (but i still have to watch those ingredients because who knew that ramon seeds were a necessity in the hot drink world?  not me!). 

by the way... although weaning myself off of caffeine is probably a good choice, AIP doesn't require it.  it requires you to cut coffee because it's from the bean family.  i know.... this surprised me too.  but i can work on reducing my caffeine intake to support my strung out adrenals too... i guess.  sigh.

LIVER

apparently liver/organ meat is the number one recommended thing to incorporate into your diet when you struggle with an autoimmune disease.  and i gotta be honest with you... the thought of eating it makes me gag.  

i'm pretty sure most of you agree with me... it just doesn't sound good.  no one turns to their spouse at night and is like "lets break out the good wine and have LIVER tonight!"  

if you do... mad props to you.

we don't.  when we were in france two years ago kjaer and i were lucky enough to enjoy a couple of verrrryyy fancy dinners.  one inside 58 Tour Eiffel in the eiffel tower and one in annecy at Haute-Savoie in our hotel, Les Tresoms.  both times we were served various forms of liver for one course.  and it was delicious... but again, i have to be honest and say making pâté or foie gras isn't necessarily something i would like to do and have around as a snack with plantain chips.  et toi?

fancy pants dinner in the eiffle tower

there's foie gras somewhere in that beautiful masterpiece!
58 Tour Eiffel 2nd course (of 5) in the eiffel tower

foie gras... delicious AND gorgeous
2nd course (of 7) at Haute-Savoie
in our hotel at Les Trésoms

so when i was in planning mode i learned that you could incorporate 1/4 pound of liver into 1 pound of ground beef and hide it.  i was game.  THIS i could do! i might not be courageous enough to go all out, but i could try sneaky liver.

so i called our butcher, who is used to me an my obnoxious custom meat orders, and asked if they would give me 2 lbs of ground liver.  i was thinking no problem... i'll just cut each pound into fourths, mix it with the ground beef i'm ordering and it'll be ready to go.  the young man helping me told me that, unfortunately, he couldn't grind the liver for me as it was frozen at their store.  

my heart sank... you mean... i have to grind it?  moi?

gross.

he did, however, offer to cut it into 1/4 lb frozen liver chunks for me.  so i could just pull what i need from the freezer.  thank God for small miracles.

soooo... being super prepared and trying to remain on my game i pulled 2 pounds of ground beef out of the freezer and 1/2 pound of liver out of the freezer to thaw in the fridge for our dinner i made on sunday night.  my plan was to serve my family and have plenty of leftovers for breakfast and lunch this week.  

the problem was i failed to research how to grind liver.  i just sort of figured we could use the food processor or the magic bullet and voila!  ground liver!

so sunday afternoon i thought maybe i should look at the best way to do this.  and the first thing i read was DON'T DEFROST YOUR FROZEN LIVER FULLY.

uhhhhhhhh....

it claimed that if the liver was partially frozen, you'd have more success.  it did suggest a food processor so i got ours all set up and pulled out the liver.  have you ever seen a raw liver before?  (gag). i picked it up with the least amount of digits i could manage and shoved it down inside my cuisinart... ready to grind the ever loving crap out of it.  

now i cook a lot... it's one of my passions.  touching raw meat isn't my favorite but i am used to it... although sometimes chicken makes my insides quiver.  liver is like ten times worse than chicken.  its soooooo bloooooodyyyyy.... probably why it's so nutrient dense.  i did my very best not to gag every time i had to touch it or look at a little pool of blood it left on my cutting board.  when i finally got the liver into the little tube thing to shred it (i put both pieces in so i would only have to touch it once) i pressed the pulse button and prayed.

once my eyes were unclenched, i looked at the container and there was about 3 shreds of liver, lots of blood and two lumps of liver resting unscathed on the bottom.  (gag). by now lucy, our dog, was onto the smell of the liver.  she isn't really a terrible beggar.  she came to us uninterested in table food but has now learned mommy will secretly feed her a cut of meat under the table but she has very nice manners about it.  (shhhhhhh!  don't tell!). but she couldn't contain herself.  she was like a beatles groupie... whining and begging with her crookity ear, tail waggin' so hard her booty couldn't contain the sway.  meanwhile, i stood there perplexed.  

i abandoned that bloody mess and walked out to see kjaer in the garage and was like, i don't think i can do this.

he gently encouraged me and back in i went with a new plan... kjaer's beloved magic bullet.  you know... the appliance i teased him about when we were dating but have slowly come to love myself.  using a spatula, i did my best to divert the mess into a new kitchen appliance.  lucy got to lick the spatula, which made her begging worse.  then i tried again.  by the time i was done i basically had liver milk.  (gag).  it was just liquid with a few strands of gristle.  i poured it over the beef and began massaging it into the meat.  grateful to be done, i started browning it for the delicious breakfast hash (which you could make without the liver).  my beloved quartz countertops were a mess of bloody appliances and cutting boards to be washed.  i threw the hand washing ones in the sink and didn't even rinse my cutting board because i was so grossed out i put it straight into the dishwasher.  

sweet people -  I. DIDN'T. EVEN. CARE.  

Later that night kjaer saw my shortcut and took the cutting board out to rinse it.  he didn't want it to stain.  i was like SORRY BUT DON'T YOU CARE THAT I HAD TO PUREE A FREAKING LIVER TONIGHT?!?!  WHAT ABOUT ME?!?!  I HAVE BIG FEELINGS AFTER THAT.

it was still stained after his rinse and a run through the dishwasher.  a permanent badge for my first encounter with liver.

and let's not talk about what happened to the remnants of liver when you wash the appliances.  actually... let's do.  i soaked them and when i went to wash them it looked like they had peanut butter on them.  (gag)

during dinner i kept looking at kjaer.  i feel like he procrastinated picking up his fork for awhile.  he happily volunteered to get things that were missing from the table, the kids' drinks, and "oh, we need to listen to some music, i'll turn it on."  poor guy... he's such a good sport.  finally he took his first bite.  my eyes bore holes into his soul while i used my telepathic skills to ask him, well????? do you taste it?  he didn't... two thumbs up from him.  my kids didn't taste anything different either.  we will probably have to hone my liver grinding skills, but at least i know i can eat it now disguised in ground beef and lots of herbs!

quick sidenote: this recipe is legit delicious and i've been using it for breakfasts and lunches.  so flavorful and filling.  i have officially made it a whole week without eggs!  a feat that felt impossible a month ago.

breakfast hash with hidden liver
(and olive oil salad in the background)
so delicious!

SAUCES

you know half of the reason i loved whole 30?  it turned me from a basic cook into a pretty darn amazing cook.  i learned how to make some basics in the kitchen... building blocks.  i made my own ghee, bone broth and mayo.  from there i made delicious homemade dressings, soups and sauces.  in the dressings and sauces category about 95% of them required my homemade mayonnaise, which has eggs.  well, as you know by now... i can't have eggs.  they aren't compliant on AIP and furthermore my food tests revealed a sensitivity to egg yolks... which is interesting as the whites are typically what cause reactions for people.  

anyway, i stupidly planned for only balsamic vinegar (high quality) this week for salads and various renditions of guacamole (mango guacamole, regular guacamole).  so on sunday night when i went to pack my lunch i realized i had about 1/2 tbsp of balsamic vinegar left.  i mixed it with olive oil for my salads at school but i'm sad to report that no matter how much i shake that dang container, the delicious balsamic vinegar sinks to the bottom and i end up eating an olive oil salad.  not a bad thing... but not necessarily the most flavorful.  only by day three did i successfully get my vinegar to land on my spinach. 

day 2 i sent kjaer to school with our delicious guacamole and cut an avocado up on my cauliflower rice and pulled mojo chicken.  it wasn't the same.  i came home distraught, ravenous for flavor, only to find that i had planned AIP tacos - ground beef on lettuce leaves with guacamole (i had to make more).  and then day 4 i had these lovely baked sweet potatoes planned, stuffed with the leftover mojo chicken and a mango guacamole.  i think went through 12 avocados this week.

i should probably have taken the picture before digging in
but i couldn't help myself.  sweet potato with mojo chicken and
mango guacamole.  plantain chips on the side.  
...amazing.

so basically the only added flavors i've had are olive oil and guacamole.  not the zestiest sauces to say the least, although the mango really changed things up..  this weekend i will be in the kitchen sharpening my egg free mayo, sauce and dressing skills.  clearly.

in spite of my planning faux pas, i'm glad to be embarking on this AIP adventure.  it's nice to feel like i'm doing something about helping my gut heal when it would be so easy to not and eat a bag of potato chips (or eggs and coffee in my case).  and the food really is delicious (if you plan to make more than olive oil dressing and guacamole all week).  For instance, we had homemade AIP pizza crust topped with olive oil and sautéed arugula, prosciutto, grapes and turkish figs tonight... i may continue to eat pizza this way for life as it doesn't make my belly hurt and is absolutely delicious.  i made several crusts in advance over the summer and froze them so we can just come home on fridays, our official pizza and movie night, and take care of the toppings.  most of these delicious meals are coming from The Healing Kitchen... which i highly recommend if you are struggling with an autoimmune disease and need your body to chill the heck out.  just beware that if you plan on going all out, like i did, it takes considerable planning and time in the kitchen.  i don't mind that so much; clearly i have a strong drive to plan when i'm stressed and love cooking!  😊

so here's to being healthy, plans gone awry, and new adventures. 

AIP Pizza with sautéed arugula, prosciutto,
grapes and turkish figs

toilet for a table...

ok, so... don't judge. 

i've already shared my struggles with weight and food with you all several times.  

since henley's birth, i've lost 75% of my pregnancy weight, but I have that damned last 25% to go.  and i'd love to tell you it's my last 5 pounds... but it's more than that.  don't pry too much.  i'll disclose if you truly care and want to encourage me.  but leave me alone to eat my damn carrot sticks in peace if you want to know for any other reason.  and if you're a REAL friend, you'll let me whine about how fat i feel even though you think i'm looking fabulous compared to the me you saw  9 months ago.  i want to live in my loathsome head right now and i'm too stuck in it to see myself for who i am... so don't try to argue with me.  i'll just smile and nod and go back to my dark, chubby cave.  

anyways...

it was fall break a few weeks ago.

fabulous fall break. 

which also means i'd abandoned any sort of weight loss regimen and had indulged in the finer things in life that week.  as i began to near the end of my diet vacation,  my anxiety began rising... deep down i knew that feast of a week was soon to be famine and my very cells were screaming more! more! hurry!  get as much in as you can!!

one evening was particularly stressful for me.  we were decorating pumpkins, henley had hardly napped all day, kjaer and i were having one of those serious conversations that almost turns into a fight and doesn't but it sucks anyway, we were still not sure who the hell was going to watch our kids the following week because our beloved daycare was closing... 

i was stressed.  soooooo stressed. 

so i thought, "i know, i'll eat a piece of cake with lots of icing!  cake fixes everything temporarily."  i had frozen some from henley's dedication and it was calling to me from our freezer in the basement.  so i sliced myself a lovely corner slice with ample buttercream frosting while trying to simultaneously clean up dinner, keep henley from fussing and help paint pumpkins (though kjaer was mostly in charge of that, thank GOD!)  my job was to play defense when henley would try to put her non-toxic painted hands into her mouth.  i kept staring at my sugary, sexy icing just spilling off of my cake.  i wanted to eat it so badly.  but i knew i'd be busy for another couple of hours (until both kids were down) and i just couldn't wait any longer.

(and yes, our children were naked... or as leif says, "naken" which kjaer always calls "naken bacon" and it makes my heart melt a little).

so when it came time to wash paint off of henley, i carried my slice into the bathroom with me to eat while she played in the tub.  

if you are already judging me... read on at your own risk and i don't want to hear from you how disgusting i am.  i'm already aware of my shortcomings and i find them a little bit funny in a sick twisted way (hence, why i'm sharing them with you).  

so the first problem (well, second problem if you consider that a piece of cake being eaten in a bathroom is a problem too) was that as soon as i set my plate down, my fork went flying through the air and landed behind the toilet.  

Lord knows what could be on that floor... so i ran through a quick mental debate.  the floor was just scrubbed a week ago, leif doesn't have bathroom rights in this bathroom, i have lucked out with one of those very clean men who never leave a mess around the toilet.  the disgusting pros kept growing.  but i knew i couldn't get up and get a new fork, because i had an eight month old who was fussing and needed to be quieted by warm bath water and floating alphabet letters.  and because i wisely chose to cease the crying at once and put her in the water, i couldn't leave her.  she's sturdy, but she's still a freaking baby that can tip over with the slightest change in air pressure.  so, i picked up the fork, wipe it vigorously with a towel and told myself it can't really be THAT bad... right?

what's the saying???
“No matter how bad things are, you can always make things worse.” (Randy Pausch)

so, i was watching my mostly stable daughter gnaw on a foam letter while taking my first bite.  if you know me, you know i eat the cake and filling first and save that delicious, sugary, decadent frosting for last.  it's my favorite part.  but right as the first bite on my fork is headed for my mouth, henley took a spill.  

i threw my fork aside and to catch her before she went under... staring sadly at my piece of cake as it slid down the side of the tub and the crumbs spilled onto the bathmat.  henley was fine... but i was not.  i knew i should just concede and wait to eat my cake until she wasn't sitting in a tub full of water.  but i continued to look jealously at that piece of cake during the rest of henley's bath, commiserating that i didn't even get 10 freaking minutes to myself to indulge in dessert (let alone go for a run or have a night out with my own husband).  before i could stop myself i had opened the drain and henley was curiously watching the water drain away from around her little chubby thighs so that mommy could have her way.  

i then took her out of the bathtub, wrapped her in her little monkey towel, stuck her in my lap and i ATE that damn piece of cake like a BOSS.  right there on the bathroom floor.  

as i was licking the last bit of frosting off of the fork, i came to my senses and realized all of the disgusting atrocities that had occurred in that span of 5 minutes.  and while i could have sat there a few more minutes, feeling terribly sorry for myself and the depths to which i have fallen...  i shrugged, got up, put my dish in the dishwasher and thought, thank God for things like cake on days like today.

being a mother has surfaced so many new pieces of me that i didn't know existed.  if young, childless monica had read this blog post, she would have thought, what the... i'll never act like that crazy woman when i have kids!  just like i used to think snotty things like that about other peoples kids before i had kids like... my kids will never act like that, it's disgraceful.  

kharma is a b*&$% my friends.

i now have a 2 1/2 year old little boy... who has the biggest heart and happiest soul i know.  BUT he also is an independent and strong willed 2 year old... and can be a rude little booger at that.  sometimes, after he has matter of factly yelled at some poor unsuspecting soul YOU DON'T TALK TO ME i float above my body and look down thinking... this is what you get for judging others... judgy mcjudger.  i literally have no idea what to do and feel like a failure.  i just want to drown my sorrows in cake and hope it all works itself out without me having to figure out a way.

i'm coming to find that in the glory and blessing of being a mother... there is also the part of motherhood where we find ourselves crouched on the dirty bathroom floor eating cake.... wondering things like: when will i get 10 minutes to myself or when will i figure out what it takes to change my children's rude behavior or when will i finally snuggle into the nook of my husbands arm for the night or when did i last brush my teeth and comb my hair?

but then i remember that i also have moments where my vivacious two year old lays his hand on my cheek during naptime and whispers ever so sweetly, "mama... you are my sunshine," and i can muster up the moxy to keep moving and try my best.

so for all of you mommies out there who find yourselves at a low point, take heart.  our babes give us those profound and beautiful moments to counteract all of the terribly messy ones we find ourselves sitting hopelessly in.  and for those times when it still isn't quite enough... there's cake.  lots of cake.  so grab yourself a slice, pull up a bathroom rug and indulge with me as we figure out this messy, hysterical... and yet beautiful thing called being a mama.

food for thought...

our triumphs and our defeats erupt from our vaults [of secrets]

-beth moore

secrets.

we all have them.  some are good, some are bad.  some we are holding onto faithfully for others because they had nowhere else to turn.  we file them away into our vaults... into the darkness to (try to) forget about or stuff down.  

regretfully... sometimes we're able to dust our hands off, turn around and walk out of our vault without looking back.  

and regretfully... sometimes we camp out in our vaults.

i learned almost 15 years ago about the freedom in sharing your deepest darkest secrets.  i had been carrying my own secret around, hiding it from everyone i knew... living in darkness.  one of the most freeing moments in my life, was digging that secret out of the cellar in my heart, brushing the spiderwebs off and telling my mom.  in that confession, i learned the art of acceptance, mercy and forgiveness... so beautifully displayed by my mother.  and since then, i've done my best not to file away my shame.  i try to be honest about who i am, where i've been and what i've done.  

but i know i'm nowhere near perfect.  while i've only begun to brush the spiderwebs away over the last 15 years, there is so much in that vault that even i don't know about.

for instance...

i have always known that after henley's birth i would need to lose a substantial amount of weight.  while many of you gain the recommended 20-30 pounds... my body does not do that.  i can truthfully say that this time i made a valiant effort at staying healthy, but still managed to gain almost the same amount of weight i did with leif.  i have always known that at my 6 week check-up i would get the green light to start losing a little weight... healthily, of course.  so i've anticipated this for a long time.

after henley was born my brain switched into countdown mode.  

6 weeks until i get it under control...

5 weeks until i get it under control...

4 weeks until i get it under control...

you get the picture.

 you see... i've been down this weight loss road now 3 separate times (with other minor events when i had to re-lose 5 pounds here or there).  the first time was after college when i lost about 45 pounds.  the second time was after leif was born and i lost 60 of the 75 pounds i gained with him (before becoming pregnant again).  now i've had henley... i've lost (as many do) about 30 pounds in the first 8 weeks... and have 30 to go until i'm to my wedding weight.  

so when i had about 1 week left to go... i did something that i've never done before. 

i decided to do my best to get to the root of the problem.  

i'm tired of having to struggle so much with my weight... so i asked God, over the course of several days, to shine His big old flashlight into the cobwebs of my heart and expose the motives to this roller coaster i've been on to me.  i figured if i could get to the root, i might be able to experience some of that freedom that i've experienced in other areas of my life.

and as the week unfolded... here is what i learned...

lean in... 

(it's a secret)

i have food issues.  

major food issues.

we are as sick as our secrets... right?

well, as the week progressed, i started to notice secrets about food that i had been avoiding for a long time.  like if i had mcdonalds and indulged in a quarter pounder with cheese, a large fry and a large coke... i'd take the evidence of said meal and walk it to our outside trash can so that kjaer wouldn't see it when he got home.  

why, you ask?

honestly, i don't even know.  kjaer couldn't care less if i stopped at mcdonalds for lunch.  you and i know an occasional fast food trek isn't something to be ashamed of.  but i wanted to hide it... like a big fat secret i was ashamed of.  probably because my eating over the first 6 weeks with henley was more like a feast than famine.  i've probably been to mcdonalds four times in those 6 weeks... which is more than i went in the past couple of years.

but deep down, subconscious monica knows that mcdonalds is no way to start losing weight.  she's thinking... 

the end times are near, i must fatten up!!!

  hence... the shame, the hiding... the secret.

but that's not all.

when kjaer isn't around, i secret snack. 

yes... it's a real thing... this secret snacking.

i find all sorts of things around the kitchen and try to snack so that kjaer won't notice that anything is missing.  if his mom has brought over some delicious cookies from her bakery, i eat several, making sure to leave plenty enough in each bag (there are usually several varieties) that it looks like none are missing.  i NEVER eat the second to last cookie... that's a dead giveaway.  

also... right before i go back on track with my eating

i go WAAAYYYY off track.

as in... i derail my train.

i try to hit every restaurant i know i'll be craving, as if it's my last time i'll eat there again... EVER.

it's a little wild (and expensive).

two mondays ago was my first official day back on track.  as i was dutifully counting my weight watchers points for every item going in my mouth (only cheating a couple of times, of course, another secret),  kjaer and i were happily eating dinner and talking.  he was sharing with me how much he loves me and how he doesn't want me to get too stressed out over losing this weight.  he loves me no matter what.  

which is soooo nice to hear...

and yet part of me had to actually tell my brain...

this DOES NOT mean you're off the hook.  you still have to lose your 35 pounds.

and then, i dug those food secrets out of my vault, and told my husband what i've been hiding from him for the last 4 years of our marriage and 5 years of our relationship (i do this stuff even when i'm thin!)  and let me tell you... 

it

felt

good

(a little embarrassing)

but good.

and do you know what i realized?

i'm no different than anybody else with an addiction.  

alcoholics do this.

shopoholics do this.

drug addicts do this.

compulsive liars do this.

WE

ALL

DO 

THIS

in some form, somehow.  

it's just the facing - the putting words to it - that makes it different.  if i air out some of these secrets i've been burying for unknown reasons... they are no longer secrets.  and if we're as sick as our secrets... then i have a few less bad secrets to keep... and less sickness.  

simple as that.  

i'm not saying there isn't a place for secrets.  i believe my role as a wife, friend, sister and daughter is to be a trusted listener and keeper of secrets.  i really work to protect the secrets that are shared with me.  i also believe in good secrets.  for example, if i were to try to bless someone because i had that desire placed upon my heart... i don't believe i should go talking about how i attempted to bless someones life by doing whatever i did... bragging is telling good secrets that should be kept to ones self. 

but what i am saying, is i think each one of us can think of something that needs a little air... something that needs to be said out loud to someone else... even if it's just a whisper of a prayer to God.  it doesn't mean you have to be a blabber mouth and post it on a blog, like me.  but maybe find your trusted confidant and share it with them.  maybe it's your partner, your best friend, a parent.  who knows?  but chances are, if you have picked that person wisely (that being KEY)... you will experience freedom... like a breath of fresh air stirring through your soul.  

so there...

now i've told you one of my minor secrets... i'm a mess when it comes to how i think about food.  please try your best to keep it.  but even if you tell everyone you know, i also know that the truth will set me free.  and hopefully this journey will be a learning experience for me this time, rather than something i HAVE to do.  

so here's to dusting off the cobwebs and shining a light into my darkest corners.

here's to freedom.

dear kim kardashian...

several months ago, before i was pregnant with Baby K2, a much more famous person WAS pregnant with her first.  the whole world watched her as she tacked on weight and struggled to maintain her celebrity style as a well known fashionista.  

and the media was so cruel...

i don't care WHO you are... you don't deserve what that poor girl had written about her.

i felt my inner fat girl wanting to write her a letter.  because this fat girl had also tacked on a crap ton of weight when she was pregnant with leif and has really never quite been the same since.  and it's not that i idolize kim kardashian and want to be her BFF (though her reality shows are a guilty pleasure of mine) but it was because i felt like i could relate to her so well...

back when i was pregnant with leif, i gushed my feelings on weight gain in another blog.  it was received by so many with open arms.  my friends wrote emails of similar struggles and how it was nice to hear someone talk so honestly.  other loving and protective friends worried that i was being too hard on myself because i was, after all, pregnant and supposed to be gaining weight. 

but i didn't tell you back then what i'm about to say now... that i gained a whopping 75 pounds!!! that amount of baggage on a 5'3" frame is a tad bit overwhelming and VERY uncomfortable.  even more disheartening was that i was lifting weights with a personal trainer 3 days a week and trying my best not to go overboard on my eating.  it's just what my body did.  

so when kim began to get flack, i could feel her pain.  i can't forget the thoughtless comments made by a few people in my life.  i remember one woman at work said something so insensitive i went back to my classroom and cried.  my teammates consoled me and when they found out what she said they almost went down to her classroom and beat her senseless.  

but i begged them not to because that's just how people are...

quick to speak...

even now... i'm halfway through my pregnancy with baby K2 and doing much better on the weight front (though don't be mistaken that i'm a tiny pregnant woman... i'm as rolly polly as they come).  this weekend, i ran into a woman who had seen me a month before i was due with leif... meaning, i was HUGE.  she kept commenting on how "tiny" i was "this time".  at first i'd say, "well, i'm only halfway done, you get a lot bigger at the end."  secretly i was afraid she'd see me sometime in january and retract her kind statement.  later in the evening she started in again with how "small" i was.   i tried to be gracious, but then she said across the crowded room, "just look at how thin your face is!  your face was so much fatter last time."  

ummmm... thank you?

now, i'm pretty proud that i didn't and haven't gotten hormonal about this comment.  (another big difference with me this time is that i'm much calmer and less stressed out than i was with leif).  i realize that deep down, she meant to compliment me by telling me how good she thought i looked... this time. 

but i did fume a little (and complain to kjaer and my mom... well, and you) 

because WHO SAYS THAT STUFF?!?!?

(to a woman... let alone a pregnant woman... at that!)

it made me want to sit down and write ol' kimmy even more!  

but our dear friend kim has already given birth and is probably sweating it out in the gym with a personal trainer and eating salads made by a personal chef so that she can reappear in the public eye and wow those suckers who said the mean crap about her.  

so instead, i write for myself in the future (of this pregnancy and if there are any more to come... those too) and for my friends who are like me and do not look like a little twig with a basketball shoved down their shirts.  in fact, i write to those girls, whose butts started growing upwards the minute that pregnancy test came back positive.  i remember doing squats at the gym when i was pregnant with leif and seeing my derriere reflected in the mirror behind me.  i remembered thinking, "whose butt is that?  that can't be MY butt!"  i came home and asked kjaer if it was growing up my back... which, if i remember correctly, he thought was a trick question.  we now lovingly refer to my butt when i was pregnant as my "four story butt" because it was four stories high.  in fact, it was so big, i went to sit on the couch next to kjaer one time and ended up sitting on him...

not.

on.

purpose.

i just had no concept of how big it had gotten.

so you get the idea... i've been there.  i've been horrified at the weight gaining capabilities of my body and what it does when it's pregnant.  so i know a thing or two about feeling ashamed of my body.  so this is for those sisters... the ones who are embarrassed or worried about their growing bellies and bottoms.

first and foremost, i told kjaer to remind me of this when i was pregnant again, DON'T PANIC!  the first time around, i panicked.  i think it made me shove food down my face even more.  or else maybe it made me give up and think, "oh well, i'm huge, might as well have another cookie."  i was so depressed by the end of it i thought i'd spend the rest of my life trying to get that 75 pounds off.  it was so disheartening.  especially when it had taken me a couple of years to lose 40 pounds after college.  

but it did.

i know you look in the mirror and you feel fat.  your body is stretching out in directions you didn't even know it could go.  at the store, you try on that one cute maternity top in a medium and realize you need to upgrade to a L or XL (if you're being smart and want to wear it at the end of your pregnancy too).  DON'T DESPAIR, YOU WILL LOSE IT!!!!  6 weeks after leif was born i had lost a whopping 30 pounds!  a year after he was born i had lost another 30... (thanks be to breastfeeding and weight watchers for breastfeeding moms). I only had about 15 more to get back to my wedding weight when i got pregnant again.  

that's when i told kjaer to remind me periodically with this little one that it DID come off, i survived and it will come off again.  because in the throws of people's insensitive comments and judgmental stares, it is hard to remember a time when you were able to slither into your skinny jeans and a cute top feeling all super sexy and sleek.

and just so you know, women are usually the worst at saying cruel things to you... but i find the ones who usually do, tend to be the unhappiest and most critical of ALL people.  so try your best to let it go and move on.  every time i think of a thoughtless comment and the mouth it came out of i find my memory of that person's mouth is not usually as a smile.  they usually have their own weight issues or other baggage teaming with insecurities, which makes it easier to pick on you... because it makes them feel a little better about themselves.  so as the very wise mr. jay-z says, "go on brush yo' shoulders off."

buy yourself a cute pair of expensive maternity jeans.  splurge on a couple of cute tops.  and if you have a fat day, make sure your loving partner has been armed with the "right" things to say (ahead of time) to you so he doesn't feel like a jerk when you're crying and shoving ice cream into your face.  

because this to shall pass...

if you want to be back in those skinny jeans and cute tops, and you work at it.... with enough time and dedication, you'll be there again.  maybe not as perfect before.  maybe your skinny jeans will smooth out a few more lumps than you had b.b. (before baby)... or maybe not.  

but you will have a miracle that God entrusted you to carry for 9 months and bring into this world.  and you will find that a few pounds here or there in the long run, don't mean crap.   you will find yourself staring into the eyes of a brand new creation that is part of you and part of someone else you love.  so grin and bear it.  wear those pounds like a rockstar... and when your little one is born be kind and loving to yourself because you just accomplished a freakin' miracle.  and after several weeks of loving on your baby and regaining a fragment of control over your life, start eating wisely and moving again.  

it's like field of dreams... if you build it, they will come.  

if you want it... it will happen... slowly. 

and one day you'll pull out that box (mine was labeled "DO NOT OPEN UNTIL YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY SURE" and wriggle into a pair of your favorite before baby jeans.  they might be a little snug, but your sexy butt squeezed into them.  and you'll coast on a concoction of hope, euphoria and the long road you've traveled to be there.  

i promise.

baby k1 and baby k2

the last supper(s)...

was sitting in the living room of a very dear friend and some of her girlfriends the other weekend, talking babies, of course.  no one can be within a 10 foot radius of me right now without talking about babies.  it's probably the large belly that proudly protrudes from my frame, which is barely recognizable at this point. so don't worry... i don't blame anyone...

regardless, each woman was telling me her tales of glory and woe on being a mother, cheering me on and encouraging me.  i sat there with my glass of ice water (no mimosa's for me!) and took mental notes from these wise ladies.  in my book... they are already heroes.  they are doing what i imagine i'll be doing in a few short weeks (t-minus 3 1/2 weeks) with gusto, and doing it brilliantly.  they've made it through the newborn phase and have successfully reared children above the age of one.  some of them have even raised TWO of them. 

Lord, have mercy.

one girl recounted her 64 hour labor process (PLEASE GOD NO!) while another talked about how her babies practically shot out of her.  they laughed and talked and smiled and boasted about their children and their husbands.  it was very inspiring.

one girlfriend of mine talked about how she was 10 days late before finally being induced.  she smiled and said, "my husband and i kept having 'last suppers' together."  we all chuckled...

and then i realized that's exactly what kjaer and i have been doing. 

well...

i've been the instigator and he has been my partner in crime... if only to avoid the wrath of a hungry pregnant woman.  but also because his wife moans about every three or four days that we need to enjoy this now before our lives totally change!!!

the other night my handsome man took me to maggiano's for a little gnocchi dish that we split.  the food was superb, but the date was divine.  i had forgotten, in the midst of our growing excitement/stress how i love to date my husband.  we sat and talked and cuddled and smiled.  it was absolutely perfect, except that we were both too full to have a little desert.  oh well, there will be other times... just not in the next couple of months i'm sure.

for lunch we visited the five star establishment of mcdonald's, which has been frequented about once a month since i started incubating a little hungry creature in the depths of my gut.  we probably visited for the last time in quite awhile, because after baby k is born, i will have to cut this monthly endeavor out of my diet.  but this is another one of those "lasts," so we went.   this time kjaer set our tray down at a booth and while he was up getting extra pickles for his burger, i slyly moved the tray to another table because i found I COULD NO LONGER FIT IN THE BOOTH.  ok... while this is a slight exaggeration, i knew the moment had come where i can no longer force myself to sit in a booth because my belly almost touches the table and it's so uncomfortable.  it was definitely a first in my lifetime... but i had to look at it from the bright side.  at least the reason i couldn't fit in the booth WASN'T because i eat too much mcdonalds.

this next weekend i'm looking forward to another incredible meal at the melting pot with one of our favorite couples.  i started to get really nervous that they were going to seat us in a booth... as in, my heart started to palpitate.  i finally called them and laughingly asked that they seat us at a table that had at least one chair.  the hostess on the other end of the phone wished me congratulations and told me they could accommodate me (and my belly) and they'd see me on friday night.

it's funny how anticipating huge life changes can cause you to go out and do some "lasts."  in reality, it's quite the dramatic overkill.  i mean, will kjaer and i frequent nice restaurants in our future?  of course!  it just feels like everything as we know it is over.  

of course, my whining has surrounded alone time with kjaer and fancy restaurants (yes, i know mcdonalds is not fancy... it's just a guilty pleasure).  now i find myself, in my spare time, making lists of places i would like to visit before our little one comes.  who knows if it'll happen, but this is the time to try.  (actually, i should have done this earlier in our pregnancy when i could still fit comfortably in a romantic, cozy booth).  

but the truth is, we will do this again.  

the reality is that lives go on... whether it is because of new life or death.  looking back to 3 years ago, when my dad passed away from cancer, i remember thinking life would never be the same.  i thought surely i would take my last breath because of the heartache.  i was sure it was the last time i was ever going to be happy.  the last time our family was whole and complete.  but those lasts weren't true.  first of all, in spite of the sorrow, i kept breathing... one day at a time.  though there is a definite hole that only my daddy can fit into, my life has been full of happiness since his passing.  and my immediate family has doubled in size with two new wonderful sister-in-laws, and five nieces and nephews! (not to mention my bliss in having a wonderful husband and pip squeak on the way). so, even though my family doesn't look the same as it did three years ago, it reflects the joy that my small family of five enjoyed before my daddy left us.  (daddy would've been so proud!)  on top of that, i've been accepted into kjaer's family... which brings more love and happiness from all angles.  

the only lasts that were permanent, were the moments spent with my sweet daddoo before he died.  and they're not really permanent.  i plan on seeing him again one day... i'll just have to wait a little longer than i would for, say, a really fancy dinner at my favorite restaurant. 

but for now... i think that even though i know these aren't really my last suppers, i'll keep milking it for all it's worth.  sometimes we just need to acknowledge those feelings of last-ness even though we know to our cores that last = we'll just have to wait awhile.  

as the clock keeps ticking, kjaer and i get more excited/nervous/anxious to meet our little one.  people throw around the ol', "enjoy your _____ while it lasts!" and we find ourselves getting annoyed... probably because we're hyper aware of the change that is about to occur and we don't need it spelled out for us.  but i think also because we know in our guts that this isn't the end of all things.

it's just the beginning.

and i can raise a glass (filled to the brim with a shirley temple) to that.