To My Toddlers: Lessons I'm Learning As Your Mama

My dear toddlers,
Motherhood has been a journey for me. I am not the same woman I was four years ago, before I held my own baby in my arms. I anticipate that I will not be the same four years from now. I hope that I am not!
The older you get, the more I change.  But lately, I have been going through a "growth spurt," so to speak. And I've been keeping notes of all the things you've been helping me learn.

1. ALLOWING FOR ANGER

I've had to do some rewiring, and I'm sure you've noticed- it hasn't been easy for me. Anger is scary to me. It's easy for me to believe that if no one is angry, then everyone is safe. And you know what? That isn't true. 

I don't want you to get here someday, as an adult, and be afraid of anger- afraid of others' anger, or afraid of your own. It's not wrong to feel angry. And more than that, it's not wrong to express it, either. 

I don't want you to have the notion that I am afraid of your anger. That I am ashamed of it. That my love is conditional and will be withdrawn if and when you express it. 

No, I want you to know that I'm not phased by your big, out-of-control emotions. I want you to know that I can handle it. I can take it. 

You are the child; I am the adult. I am big enough to hear your anger. Dish it out- I'm going to be your anchor while your emotions are rocking and swaying out of your control. I'm going to be your safe place where you can learn to help yourself through your anger, not to hide it away for my sake. So go for it- scream, yell, tell me what you think. Show me what you've got. I'll be here.

(read more about dealing with anger here)

2. MASTERING THE UNRUFFLED ATTITUDE

Sometimes, I forget. I forget that you're a toddler, and you're on a wild roller coaster of emotions and development that you don't know how to control. And sometimes I forget that I am not a toddler, and that I can step off that wild ride. 

How freeing it is when I release myself from the notion that I must be upset if you are. How freeing that is for you to know that you are not responsible for my emotional stability. 

And let's be honest... sometimes, you really throw me some curveballs. Sometimes I really did not see that meltdown coming, and the last thing I want to do is stay calm. What I really want to do is throw myself on the floor and cry with you. 

But a funny thing happens when I choose to be "unruffled." Not only do you start to cope, but so do I. 

So I begin to say things like, "yes, I hear how upset you are! You really wanted a banana [for the fourth time today]. I'm not going to give you another one."

And you cry, because you are certain that I am being wholly unfair and the misery overwhelms you. 

And I say, "you REALLY wanted that banana. Yes, I hear you. You feel so disappointed to hear me say that. I wish I we could eat bananas all day long too!" 

And what happens for me, in that moment, is that, in giving you ownership of those big emotions, I remain calm. I am able to let you be unreasonable and loud and explosive, and I don't have to join you there. 

I can step off that roller coaster, be your safe place, and give myself a safe place as well.

(read more about being unruffled here)

3. LETTING THE UPSET HAPPEN

This one is hard for me. I don't like to see you cry; really, I don't. My mama heart wants to keep you happy at all costs. Instead of dealing with your upsets with an unruffled attitude, I would very much like to just keep you happy and avoid the situation altogether. 

But like a lot of things I want, I know it's not the best, both for you and for me. And so, instead of trying to walk on eggshells to avoid conflict with you, I'm learning to respect your right to be upset with me. I'm learning to set the limits that need to be set, and, rather than try to convince you to be happy, to embrace your emotions.
I nod, I listen, I hear you out. I let you cry. I argue with the voice in my head that does these things with the intention to stop you from being upset. I hear myself say, "it's not working!!" and I know that I've started to try and "fix" you again. It's my job to set the limits, and it's your right to experience emotions about that. Sometimes those emotions don't make a lot of sense to me. Truly. But they are not mine; they are yours. And you have every right to express them.

(read more about setting limits and allowing emotions here)

4. REJECTING THE ILLUSION OF CONTROL

I'm going to say something that you've already discovered. 

I don't control you. 

(I know. Big news!)

But we adults need that reminder from time to time. And you're quite good at offering those reminders, thankfully, so I get lots of practice!

I can't make you think my way. I can't make you like the things I like, or want the things I want. I can't make you feel sorry. I can't make you stop feeling sad. I can't make you eat, or sleep, or speak. I can't make you stop speaking, either. 

We've had this discussion a lot lately (looking at you, my darling three year old): "I make my choices and you make your choices." You've taken it as a mantra. You said it to me, the other day, after I insisted that you take a nap, because you were clearly so in need of one. You did me a favor and tried it out, and I appreciate that. You threw me a bone. But at some point, you resorted to opening your shades instead and playing quietly in your room. And you were gracious in reminding me how this works, when I asked later if you had decided not to sleep. 

"I choose my own choices, Mama, and you choose your own choices." 

And you know, that sort of sentence scares adults. Because it's scary to say, "you're right," and not try to threaten or intimidate or force you to submit to my will. It's scary to hand over that sense of control. But the truth is that you have always had that control anyway. The concept of "handing it over" is an illusion, because that never belonged to me anyway. 

So I will continue to control what is mine. I will control our environment to keep you safe. I will control my words. I will control my temper. I will control my own body, and use it to set appropriate limits when you can not control yours. But the rest of it is, as you know, yours. And I wouldn't want it to be any other way. 

5. "MODELING GRACIOUSNESS"

If I want you to be kind, I must be kind to you and to others. If I want you to be thankful, I must express my thankfulness to you and to others in front of you. If I want you to honor others' boundaries, I must honor  yours. If I want you to eat healthy food, I must model eating healthy food. If I want you to make a habit of cleaning, I must set an example by cleaning. If I want to be treated with respect, I must treat you with respect as well.

It seems so simple, but it's so ingrained that we must "make" you learn these lessons. That it's necessary that we coerce, bribe, or even threaten these lessons into your head. But I have seen it firsthand- you learn by seeing. You say what I say. Sometimes that makes me proud, like when you say, "Thank you for making this food for me, Mama! I really love you!" 

And sometimes that makes me rethink how I've been speaking to you. Like when you say, "you have to say you're sorry to me!!", and I remember how unpleasant it feels to have an apology demanded of you, rather than for it to be given out of sincerity. 

I want to be a good example for you. And this is making me not just a better mama to you, but making me a better person, too.

(read more about modeling graciousness here)

6. REFRAMING THE CONCEPT OF "SHARING"

It's funny- I think toddlers have a more realistic concept of ownership, sometimes, than adults. Somewhere along the line, we decided that adults may have belongings, that we may set boundaries with our things, but that children may not. They must share!
Somehow, it's become commonplace to expect that a child must be willing to let other children play with his or her belongings, whether out of the goodwill of their heart or out of fear of punishment.

Well, Dear, I'll tell you what. I don't share my personal things very often, and I wouldn't like it very much if I was told that I had no choice in the matter.

It took a little reframing for me to come to understand why the concept of forced sharing just doesn't work. That it isn't respectful or helpful, and even more so, that it isn't necessary. 

And you know, now, when I watch you share, it makes me happy. Not because you are obedient, or because you have learned to conform to societal norms- but because I know you are sharing because you want to. You're handing your sister your own special blanket out of the sweetness of your heart. You're offering to give your friend your toy because you want to make her happy. 

And nothing makes me happier than watching this budding empathy and generosity grow in you. 

(read more about forced sharing here)

7. IDENTIFYING REQUESTS FOR CONNECTION

It's hard being a parent. Sometimes, even with all the best intentions in the world, we miss things. We need help remembering how to understand you- how to translate your actions and words into what they really mean. 

Like when you say, "why is this a house?" 

And I try to answer that question, and you respond with, "are you my mom?"

And I say yes. And you say, "why are you my mom?" 

And I start saying things like, "because...you're my kid..." 

Or when you ask me to put on your shoes, and you've been able to put on your own shoes for quite some time now. But you insist that you CAN NOT do it without my help. And I want to say, "BUT YOU DID IT AN HOUR AGO." 

It's times like those that I really need help translating. You're not asking me a bunch of questions because you really want answers. You're not asking me to help you do things you already know how to do because you're trying to be difficult. You're asking me for connection. You're saying, "hey, Mom- I need you right now. Do you see me?" 

And the answer is "yes." It's always "yes."

But sometimes I just need help remembering.

(read more on connection in this post)

8. EMBRACING INDEPENDENT PLAY

You probably haven't noticed much change in this area, because I started doing it, really, from the beginning of our parenting journey. I didn't often shake toys in front of your face, or try to convince you to play any certain way. Often times, when it was just me and you (my sweet oldest), we would just lay on the ground together in silence, staring at each other. 

Not much has changed. We arrive at the park, and I sit on the bench, and off you go to do your own individual activities. Sometimes I check in to make sure you're safe, but mostly I watch. It works wonderfully for us all.

What has changed has been my release of guilt over this. I used to feel bad that I wasn't stimulating you enough, or that I wasn't a "fun" parent. I wondered if you wouldn't learn as much, because I wasn't constantly entertaining you and teaching you new things. 

But I don't feel guilty about that anymore. Because not only have I read and learned more about the benefits of child-directed play, but I've seen the results. I've seen you grow into wonderfully independent, curious, intelligent and confident children who don't need an adult to entertain them. Guilt be gone; boring parent I shall remain!

(read more about independent play here and here)

9. OWNING MY OWN BAGGAGE

I'll say it again: I am the adult, you are the child. You are not responsible for me. You are not responsible for keeping me calm, making me happy, appeasing my frustrations, or feeding my ego. If you do not do what I ask, and I get overwhelmed and frustrated, that is my baggage. If you do not make me look good in public, and I get embarrassed, that is my baggage. If you do not want to give me a kiss before bed, and I feel rejected, that is my baggage. 

You are responsible for you, and I am responsible for me. Remind me of this, will you? I know you will, because you very much like reminding me of things. 

10. REWIRING TO RESPOND VS REACT

I really don't need to tell you this, but sometimes I really have a hard time responding the right way. You know, like the other day when you would not put your pants on, and I had repeated myself 40 times, and I was sick and in pain and couldn't just do it myself? And you started crying and, instead of being an adult about it, I walked to my room and slammed the door?  Yeah. Like that. 

Sometimes I react. Okay, often times I react. I don't think. My lizard brain takes over and I turn into a toddler myself. And it makes things better for us 0% of the time. 

But I'm in a process, my little ones, of learning to respond, not react. To give myself a moment before making a decision, instead of letting my emotions run me (and you) over. And when that doesn't happen, and I find myself in an emotionally reactive place, you can bet I hate it. 

But I know that each time I do choose to respond- each time I take a breath, respond gently, and keep calm- I know that I am setting a new pattern for myself. And even though it's hard now, someday it won't always be so hard. That these new patterns I am setting now will someday set a stronger pathway. That it will one day become as second nature. It's okay that it's not second nature now- I keep practicing anyway. 

11. LEADING WITH CONFIDENCE

When I act confident, you follow. When I question myself (am I saying the right thing? Did I say it the right way? Is this even the right decision?!), you know. And I know you know, because I watch as my insecurity transfers to you. I watch as you try to gauge if we are okay. "Can you handle this, mom? If you can't handle it, how can I?" 

And, you know, a lot of times, I'm faking it. I'm pretending that I know what I'm doing, and I really don't have a clue. It happens. 

But the more I do it, the more I feel it. And the more it works, the more I actually DO feel confident. 

12. "DROPPING THE ROPE"

One of the things toddlerhood has really been teaching me is how to step out of power struggles. It's a fine line- how do I stand my ground but not go back and forth with you?

So this has been my new lesson, as I navigate these years where you often very much disagree with me...

 "A power struggle is when emotion is inserted into a limit being firmly held. A limit is a fact. It has no emotion. A power struggle is like tug of war. It can't be a struggle without two people pulling. Drop the rope." (Robin Einzig, Visible Child)

And this is hard.

It means taking a lot of deep breaths. It means imagining a shield around myself, setting an emotional boundary line between what is mine and what is yours. It means not engaging in that argument. It means acknowledging your upset, and moving on with our afternoon. 

It's hard, but you give me lots of practice.

Lots and lots of practice.

(read about "dropping the rope" in this post) 

13. REFRAMING POSSESSIVENESS

When you say, "that's mine," we adults hear, "I own that." It's one of those lost-in-translation things again. But I'm learning to hear what you mean. And what you mean is, "I like that/I want that/I need that right now." Toddler possessiveness is not rational, it's emotional. It's not, as Janet Lansbury says in her podcast (linked below), "my mom bought this at the store for me." It's "I want to play with that and I don't want you to take it." 

So I've been working on my response, when you say that it's yours. I've been working on not trying to rationalize you out of it with a "that belongs to all of us" kind of response. I've been working on empathizing. "I hear you really don't want her to have that right now. You'd like to use it." 

I've been working on letting the upset party (there usually seems to be at least one) be upset, even when it doesn't make sense. And what happens, I've seen, is that you are upset, and then you are heard, and then it passes. It always passes.

(listen to a podcast about possessiveness here)

14. REJECTING PERFECTION

Oh, how I would love to be the perfect mother. I would love to be endlessly patient and perfectly kind. Mary Poppins in the flesh, if you will. 

But (as you know), I am very, very human. And sometimes I really mess up. And as much as it kills me (and as bad as I am about beating myself over it), I'm trying to remember this: There will be slip ups, bad days, big mistakes. The importance isn't in never messing up, but in mending the damage in the aftermath.

So I apologize. And we reconnect. And I tell you that moms mess up sometimes, and I ask you to forgive me.

And sometimes, like the other day, after a big blow up in which I really lose my cool and demand you stop crying (THIS INSTANT OR WE ARE GOING HOME), you look at me and say, "Mama, I don't like it when you tell me to stop crying. That just makes me want to cry more! I don't like to be treated that way. I want to be treated kinder." And I swallow my parent-pride that says that kids shouldn't get to say that kind of thing, and I say, "you're right. That's so understandable. What do you wish I would have said instead?"

And you say, "I wish you would say, 'it's okay to cry.'"

And it's in those moments of reconnection that I remember that the cleanup after the spill can be just as impactful and precious to our relationship. That lessons can be learned (for both of us) out of imperfection, too.
Damage will be done in every relationship, not just ours. So I want to show you how to repair the damage. I want to show you not just how to love others, but how to love yourself, too.

Thank you, my little teachers, for pushing me, testing me, and making me a better mama every day.

 

What Home Birth Does Not Mean

photo: Jenn Faust

“Where are you having your baby?”

“At home.”

When I was pregnant with my first baby, this little interchange used to make me cringe. I would say the phrase, “at home,” and I'd wait. I’d watch as the listener tried to process my response. I’d watch the array of emotions flash across the face, quickly to be followed with statements which usually fell into the category of “I’m-trying-to-understand-but-I-literally-can’t-process-what-you-just-said.”

I’ve gotten some more practice with this conversation since that first pregnancy. I’ve answered a lot of burning questions- most of them very good ones. Many of them, questions I had myself before we made the choice to birth at home!

And while most of the responses to “I’m having my first child at home” were laced with badly-hidden concern (and the occasional judgement or horror), most of the responses to “I’m having my third home birth” have been met with much more curiosity and interest.

But I still find myself thinking, while having these conversations, that I wish I could really address the misconceptions about home births. Because, yes, I know what it means when someone says, “well, that’s great you’re able to do that; if I had done that, my baby would have died.”

Yes.
I know exactly what that means.

And it’s okay, really. I get that it’s a bit counter-cultural (at least within the last sixty years or so). I get that it’s something people don’t understand, and things we don’t understand are intimidating.

So, let’s talk about what it doesn't mean when I say “I’m having a home birth.”

I hate doctors/hospitals/Western Medicine in general

I’m sure there is a portion of the home birthing community who believe that ALL medical intervention is bad. I’ve heard of them. I’ve never met them. Are they real? Are they a myth? Can’t say, friend.
But what I can say is that, for myself (and every other home-birthing advocate I’ve come across), the idea isn’t that medical intervention is bad, but that it isn’t necessary in healthy, normal birth. Birth itself is not a medical emergency; it is a natural process which should be treated as such unless something goes wrong. And when it does go wrong, (and it does, sometimes), thank goodness we do have hospitals!
So, I do not choose home birth because I hate medical intervention. I choose home birth because I trust my body to do what it knows how to do. And, should something change, I would gladly entrust my (and my child’s) care to a professional whose purpose is to take over when things don't go as planned.

I’m having an unassisted birth

This misconception comes up quite often. I get the impression that people hear the words “home birth” and envision me walking around my house until my baby just unexpectedly pops out.
I must be clear: there is a very big difference between unassisted home birth and assisted home birth. Unassisted births do not include the services of a birth professional; assisted home births do.
I see a midwife throughout my entire pregnancy for regular prenatal visits. My midwife, specifically, has been with me through two pregnancies and births, and will welcome this next one into the world with us as well. I call or text her regularly with questions. She knows my toddlers by name and includes them in the prenatal visits, which they usually attend. And when the day comes, I call her to let her know that I’m starting early labor, and she heads over to my house, along with another midwife who plays the supportive role. She stays with me, in my home, throughout my entire labor (and sleeps on my couch if needed, or camps out with a book). She checks the baby’s heartbeat, my blood pressure and other vitals, helps get me food, gives me back rubs if I want them, supports me emotionally, and eventually catches my baby! It’s much like having a practitioner with you in the hospital, except if your practitioner was also your friend and mentor, and your hospital was your bedroom.

I’m uneducated about birth

I used to be uneducated about birth. I knew very little about what to expect from the entire process of pregnancy and birth when I was pregnant the first time. But that changed very quickly when I decided I wanted to try home birth. It was home birth that actually pushed me into researching things I never knew existed. It pushed me to consider and question methods that are considered “routine” in birth, and ask myself, “why do we do this?” And, “is that right for our situation?” Sometimes the answer is yes, and sometimes no. But had I gone with our original plan for a hospital birth, I believe there are many things I never would have looked into. Why would I have? I didn’t know I had a choice in 90% of them! I have now made hundreds of informed decisions about my prenatal care, my labors, my delivery, and my child's immediate post-birth care, primarily due to the fact that, because of the route we have taken, those decisions are not going to be made for me. And with that extra responsibility has come a greater opportunity for knowledge.

I think all women should have home births

This misconception isn’t usually spoken out loud. It comes in the form of defensiveness. It comes with a look of shame and an inference that they are being judged. “Well I wish I could have had one, but I couldn’t, because....”
But please, understand that I do not think badly of women who choose different birthing routes (or of those who have it chosen for them). Home birth is an excellent option for uncomplicated, low-risk births. Which, so far, all of mine have been. (I am very aware that it is a blessing to have experienced two low-risk births so far!) But I do not project this onto other birthing mothers. I know that some births are not safe at home. I know that sometimes it’s necessary to birth in a hospital. And safety must come first!

My births are easy

I will say this- my births have not been as hard as others. I know of some very, very difficult labors and deliveries. I have had safe births. I have had healthy births. I have had normal births. And for that, I am extremely grateful.
All that being said, that doesn’t mean I experience birth differently or inherently easier than others. Contractions hurt me too. Labor is hard for me too. I have said “I can’t do this” more times in labor than I can count on two hands! Because birth is hard. Birth is hard when it’s normal, and when it’s not. It’s hard when it’s short, and it’s hard when it’s long. I am not able to birth at home because I’ve gotten off the hook and have easy, pain-free experiences. On the contrary, I do it anyway, when it’s hard, because I know I can do hard things.

I’m braver/stronger than other moms

I didn’t get this comment until I had already had a couple of home births. I think, the first time around, it seemed that I was more reckless than brave. But now that I’ve done it, I’ve gotten comments that I have some kind of bravery or strength that they do not have. And I reject this wholeheartedly. I have won no medals for choosing to birth at home. I deserve none. I would be just as brave to face birth in a hospital as I would at home. And, to be frank, I personally would be quite anxious should I need to have a hospital birth! Because, for me, it is new territory- and the unfamiliar always seems daunting. Home birth is my comfort zone, because it’s what I know.
I imagine that those who have birthed in hospitals would feel the same way about switching to a home birth. I imagine that is from that fact that those types of comments arise- from a sense of anxiety of the unknown. But no matter how a mother births her child, she is brave and strong. Birth- home birth, hospital birth, unmedicated birth, medicated birth, vaginal birth or cesarean birth- takes strength. It takes bravery no matter how or where you do it.



So, what does it mean when I say "I'm having a home birth"?
It means I'm having my baby at home, with the support of my midwife and my husband, because it is what I think is best for my family. And really, that's it.

Are you curious about home birth? Shoot me your questions. I'd love to answer them!

Perfect Paleo Pancakes

I've been on and off my Paleo diet for a few weeks now for a variety of reasons (none of which are really the point of this post), and a couple of weeks ago, I came across the most incredible discovery. I'm really kicking myself for not finding it out sooner.

See, my issue with pretty much ALL Paleo bread-like goods is the texture. I'm a bread girl. I really could live off of bread, cereal, and pastries and be very happy about it. And so no-grain breads just have not cut it for me. Almond flour has made things grainy, and coconut flour produces a pasty/dry texture. No thanks.

But, like I was saying, I made a discovery upon trying a new recipe for Paleo naan (which is great, by the way- you should make it)... and that discovery is the wonderful ingredient that is tapioca starch. It takes a very dry, not-at-all-doughy Paleo bread and turns it into something that actually bends, stretches and pulls apart like regular bread!

So I started experiementing. I've gone through a lot of tapioca flour in the last week.

And along with some other new recipes (that I will need to post soon), I adapted the previously mentioned recipe to be what I am certain is the best paleo pancake recipe I've ever had.

They are fluffy but dense, they don't crumble or break, they have a perfect bite on the outside and are soft inside, and they taste GREAT.

So! Without further ado, go make these and eat the whole batch, because I dare you to try not to.

Perfect Paleo Pancakes

dry:
1 cup tapioca starch

1/2 cup coconut flour

1/2 tsp celtic sea salt

1/2 cup coconut sugar

wet: 

2 cups canned coconut milk (whole fat, room temperature)

1/2 tsp vanilla 

2 eggs 

optional add-ins:

cinnamon, stevia-sweetened chocolate chips, mashed banana, nuts

Preheat a nonstick griddle to 350ºF.

In a medium bowl, whisk dry ingredients together. In a small bowl, whisk wet ingredients together, then pour wet into dry and mix well.

Pour by 1/4 cup ladles onto griddle. The batter will begin to bubble all over and get dry around the edges.

This is where you would usually flip a normal pancake, but these take longer to cook than normal, so WAIT. It usually takes a few minutes before the pancakes is ready to be filpped. You want to flip it as few times as possible, so carefully check the underside of the pancake with your spatula before flipping. It should be very brown and crispy, but not burnt.
 Flip when ready, then let get that dark on the other side too.

 (Tip for flipping pancakes: carefully inch your spatula under the edge of your pancake to be sure it's not sticking; when you're sure it isn't, shove the spatula under at a parallel with your griddle VERY QUICKLY. Then, quickly again, flip the pancake over in one swift motion. Going fast is the key- if you go to slowly, it will fall apart)

Serve with your favorite toppings. Ours are some grassfed ghee, homemade cashew butter and a drizzle of maple syrup. Bon apetit!

Cheap, Quick and Easy: Meal Ideas

From the Cheap, Quick and Easy Kid Food post...

This is a general breakdown of the quick meals (excluding dinners) we give our kids. Recipes are linked when available!

(We eat lots of other options as well, obviously, but I'm only including the ones that fit the "cheap, quick and easy" category!)

 BREAKFASTS 

• smoothies

• oatmeal + fruit + nuts/seeds

• yogurt + fruit + nuts/seeds + raw honey

• hard boiled egg + fruit + toast

SNACKS 

• fruit + cheese + nuts/seeds + crackers

• nut butter + fruit 

• avocado + olive oil + sea salt + pepper

• veggie slices + yogurt dip 

• edamame + lemon juice + sea salt + pepper 

• fresh fruit 

• dried fruit

• nuts

• seeds

• applesauce in squeeze pouch

• chia pudding in squeeze pouch 

 LUNCHES

• sandwich (meat + cheese + greens) + veggies + yogurt dip

• avocado + tuna (yogurt + mustard + spices + olive oil) + feta + olives + olive oil + sea salt + pepper

• leftovers from dinner

DINNERS

• kids eat what we eat!

TREATS
(most of these are quick to grab once made, but require prep!)

• banana ice cream 

• cashew butter

• "healthy cookie dough dip"

• "healthy brownie batter dip"

• “healthy cookies” 

• “healthy brownies”

• whipped coconut cream + fruit

Cheap, Quick & Healthy Kid Food

Anyone who follows me on Instagram has probably been saying (either silently or aloud), "Why does Jessica keep posting so many food pictures lately??"

No, not because I got bored of taking pictures of my kids.

Please.

I've been working on compiling a list of quick, easy and healthy food ideas for kids. It has come up more than once in conversation recently- why is it so hard to feed your kids good food?

Well, I can tell you two very likely reasons why, in most cases. Healthy food either requires time (for preparation), or it takes money (to buy it pre-made). And you know what moms usually don't have a lot of?

Time and money.

But it doesn't have to be complicated- not always. We've never had a lot of expendable income, but healthy eating has been high on the priority list. Not "healthy eating" in the way that we were taught in school- not the whole-grains, low-fat, high-fiber, food-pyramid stuff. The new (or rather, the old) way of eating healthy, in the line of eating whole foods, straight from nature. No processed food, no refined sugar, no artificial or genetically modified ingredients. Just food as simple as you can get it.

So, I've made a list of quick, cheap and healthy foods we give our kids. It's not all-inclusive, but it gives a good starting point. The idea here is food that is quickly thrown together (or requires no prep), full of nutrients, and won't break the bank. 

(For ideas on how we put these together into kid-friendly meals, click here!) 

Obviously, eating this way is affordable for us not because the food we're buying is inherently cheap. If you've noticed, most organic and natural items tend to be quite a bit pricier than the less-healthy alternatives. 

Here are some of the things I've learned along the way that have enabled us to keep eating this way on a not-very-stretchy budget.

How to make it cheap...

1. Our kids eat what we eat.

Straight from day one of solid-food introduction (which we do when baby shows 3 or more signs of readiness), our babies eat the food we eat. This is two-fold- because in order for that to be safe, we have to be eating well (I find it motivating!). We start with fruits, veggies, meats and eggs, and gradually add more as they get older (finger foods when they get the pincer grasp, dairy around 1, honey after 1, grains after first molars erupt, etc...). This method is called Baby Led Weaning (also known as Baby Led Feeding), and it's worked great for our family. Not only do our kids learn to chew and swallow in the biologically logical order (first learn to mouth the food, then learn to chew, then learn to swallow- as opposed to learning to swallow first, then learning to chew later), but they become accustomed to the tastes of our family's diet.
Another bonus? We don't spend money or time on "kid food." I make one dinner, and everyone eats it. Believe me, that makes my life easier.

You can read more about BLW here.

2. We buy on sale. 

This seems a little obvious, but if you're under a tight budget- especially when you are trying to make good food choices- it's so important to buy things on sale. We only buy on-sale meat for meals each week, and try to do the same for produce as well. That changes our rotation of dinners with what's on sale, for the most part. If there's a great deal on wild-caught salmon, guess what we're having for dinner! If something I know I'll need is on a great sale, and I have the extra money to cover it, I'll buy extra. If it's meat, we freeze it. If it's dry goods, I try to buy enough to last us until the next sale rotation, which varies from item to item.

3. We buy produce in season. 

It's better and cheaper. Some things are really hard to get in season- depending on where you live- but whenever possible, aim to buy in season.

4. We don't shop at just one place. 

If you're only shopping at one (or even two) stores, you're definitely paying more for some items than you need to. Look around for the best prices and keep track of what is cheapest at which stores. We shop at a mixture of Costco, Sprouts, Whole Foods, King Soopers, Natural Grocers, Walmart and Target- all of which have certain things at the best price.

5. We don't buy pre-made or packaged food. 

This is where the "time" part comes into play. Believe me, when we have the extra money, I buy packaged healthy food for the kids. Why? It saves me time and effort! But more often than not, our wallet just can't afford the extra money (and for genuinely healthy packaged food, it gets very, very pricey), and that's when we start prepping our food instead. Which leads me to the next point...

6. We set aside prep time.

This takes time early on, but can save you just as much time as packaged food when you need it quickly. And anyone with a toddler knows that children need food INSTANTLY-BECAUSE-I-CAN'T-FUNCTION on a daily basis. Most of my desserts and snacks for the kids (and myself) are made at night, and then stored in the fridge for quick access. After the kids go to bed, I have prep time for dinners, snacks or other things I want to be easily accessible the next day.

6. We ration dairy, grains and desserts. 

If you really want to be extreme, you can cut them out completely. But even cutting back- and filling those gaps with more produce- will make a huge difference. It's really expensive to take a normal grocery budget and ADD a bunch of healthy food to it. But it's much less of a difference if- on top of cutting out the pre-made and packaged food- you cut back on the expenses of dairy, grains and desserts.

7. We buy in bulk when cheaper. 

Costco, Sam's Club, Sprouts' bulk section, and Amazon (to name a few) can all offer better prices on lots of items just by buying bulk. If you have the ability to fork out the extra money and buy more at a time, it can make a huge difference. (Again, check where prices are cheaper- usually bulk is cheapest, but that's not always the case.) We have never had the expendable income to buy meat in bulk, but if you can afford to buy a quarter of a cow from a farm, that is an excellent way to save on meat.

8. We only buy organic on the necessities.

The big ones are meat, dairy, and the "dirty dozen." Meat and dairy usually have a pretty significant price jump from non-organic to organic. At this point, with the amount of meat and dairy that our family buys, we can't afford to buy all organic, so we have to compromise there. But when organic options go on sale, or we can find them cheaply in bulk or otherwise, we always choose that over non-organic. If you must compromise on meat or dairy, always choose 100% natural and non-GMO, from a reputable company or farm.

 If you haven't heard the term "dirty dozen," it's referring to the 12 most pesticide and GMO-laden produce, which you should definitely buy organic.

The cost difference between organic and non-organic produce isn't overwhelming, but it adds up if you're buying all organic, all the time. We buy organic on the "dirty dozen," but not on the "clean 15."

Those lists are below.

9. We rarely eat out. 

This is more dependent on where we're at financially, because we really enjoy eating out. When our budget expands, we'll go out to Chipotle here and there, or go on a dinner date. But on the regular, and especially when we have a tight budget, we just eat at home. If you're used to getting fast food, or getting Starbucks, or going out to eat on a weekly basis, cutting those out would be a really easy way to save money. 

10. We save and repurpose leftovers.

If you have a toddler, you know that they are notorious for wasting food. It kills me a little inside, so I try to re-use it however I can. If my girls don't eat their yogurt, I'll make it into a smoothie. If they only eat half of a peach, I cut the rest up and freeze it for another day. If they only eat a half of an avocado, I mash it up and use it as a mayo substitute for tuna. Not everything can be saved, but when it can, it can make a difference! 



I hope this is useful for your family!
Do you have any other suggestions? Meal ideas? Favorite "kid-approved" foods? Leave some ideas in the comments!

On The Years That Age You Twice As Fast

There are some years, I think, that age you twice as fast. They feel harder, they seem to last longer, but in the aftermath you can see that they produced twice as much growth. This year was one of those years for me. 

This year, I learned that people are slaves to the things they won't face. I learned that you can analyze and dissect people and you can predict their next few moves, but you can not do anything to change them. I learned that understanding people does not keep you safe from them. I learned that loyalty does not buy loyalty, and being cautious does not guarantee security. That playing by the rules and doing things the right way can be a one way street, and sometimes not fighting back means being vulnerable. I learned that you should never take down a fence until you know why it was put up. I learned that sometimes you have to let people hide, and let go of those who do.

This year, I learned that healing isn't a linear process. That grief does not follow the rules. That forgiveness is a continual, daily process. That sometimes closure doesn't really close the door. I learned that sometimes you have to pull yourself up and walk away, even if it means limping as you do it. I learned that every relationship is irreplaceable, because every relationship is individual. I learned that some relationships aren't meant to be replaced. 

This year, I learned that it's okay to change your mind. I learned that compromising your plans, allowing yourself grace, and lowering your standards aren't failures. That priorities can shift, and more knowledge can give more room for change. I learned that hard work and diligence do not always produce success. That sometimes results aren't an accurate measure of how hard you are trying. That doing your best is enough, even if that looks like failure on the outside. I learned that, in some stages of life, it's not possible to get all of your needs met at once. I learned that you have to choose which to meet and which to put on the back burner. I learned that you can still move through those stages of life, no matter how slowly you are moving. 

This year, I learned that we all use other people as bandages. That we throw our pain onto others in an attempt to get it off of our own backs. I learned that small events can trigger deep wounds, and that the only way to stop the cycle of protecting ourselves by hurting others is to address our hurt first. I learned to recognize my triggers. I learned that addressing them is easier said than done. 

This year, I learned that you can not love people to safety. That people can not be saved if they don't want to be. That sometimes loving someone is dangerous. That promising your loyalty and love to someone means risking losing a part of your heart if they leave. I learned that standing by someone's bedside doesn't mean they will recover. I learned that standing there is worth it anyway.

Sometimes I think it's hard to be thankful for the painful years. I think it's hard to see the good that God brings out of the rubble. But it's there, every time. It's just a matter of recognizing it when we see it. 

I Was An Expert Mom (Before I Had Kids)

I don't know about everyone else, but before I was a mom, I was a really good mom.
I had plans- big plans- on how my kids were going to behave, how I was going to look, and what my life was going to look like, and goshdarnit, nothing and nobody was going to get in my way.

You see, I had quite a bit of "experience."
I had played "Mommy" for several years of my life. First, babysitting from about the age of 11, and eventually nannying at 18. So when I got pregnant at 20, I pretty much had it in the bag.
Because, as all parents know, nannying is the perfect preparation for parenthood, and there are no differences whatsoever.

None.

I had watched parents intently, studied them, and analyzed their parenting choices. And I had a little mental list of things that I was going to do differently.

Pre-babies (June 2012) / Post-babies (July 2015)

 1. I would get my body back.

Yep. That was first on the list, priority-wise. (Stick with me, mamas, I promise I learned my lesson.) I was going to lose all of the baby weight within the first nine months, and then actually lose some more on top of that, just from working so hard. And it was going to be pretty easy, too, because I already had lost 20 pounds in 6 months for my wedding a year prior to my first pregnancy, and it really only took self-discipline and my handy calorie-counting app. So that was my gameplan. Because, really, moms who kept on that extra weight probably just weren't dedicated to losing it. And I was going to be dedicated, so...problem solved, right?
And it took me two kids to actually learn this, but sometimes dedication just doesn't cut it. Sometimes your body is just too tired, and the best thing you can do for it is to rest. Sometimes that last 10-15 pounds is just sticking on there, and it's more beneficial, psychologically, to just let it go, eat well, and stop weighing yourself every morning. It's not about getting my body back, anymore. It's not about trying harder, either. It's about priorities- if I'm losing weight, but I'm drained and emotionally vacant, who really benefits from that? My kids certainly don't, and neither does my husband. And in the long run, neither do I.

2. I would keep my long hair.

NO MOM CUTS. No way. I was going to be the only mom around with extra-long hair, because I was not going to give in and cut it off.
For what it's worth, I actually kept with this until my second daughter was about six months old. That's a solid two years, so I'm giving myself half-credit.

3. I would never "let myself go."

And by "not letting myself go," I meant that I would look cute, take showers, brush my hair, wear makeup, be thin, fit and put together. Because I wasn't going to use motherhood as an excuse to fall apart.
I still wouldn't classify my current look as "let go," exactly... maybe more like "letting go of a few things at a time."
Like doing my hair, for example. Messy bun it is.
Or doing my makeup. (Foundation and mascara counts, right?)
I still dress up for special events, but my "event" threshold has raised a little bit, seeing as "leaving the house for any reason" used to qualify. Now it's a little more like "leaving the house for something other than errands."
And if this all sounds like a whole lot of excuses and rationalization to you, then no one asked you.

4. We would go on weekly date nights.

We were going to keep our marriage strong, right from the start, and not let our kids come between us. We would have a babysitter once a week, and we would go out and do something together.
It's not a bad idea, actually, in theory. In fact, I still think it's a great goal to have, but practically speaking, it falls apart when you start calculating in the additional factors, such as "where-does-that-money-come-from" and "since-when-do-we-have-extra-time-each-week" and "it's-friday-and-all-I-want-is-sweatpants-and-wine."

5. My children would not be "bratty."

Like, maybe they would try it once or twice, but BAM! I would just parent it right out of them, and they would never do it again. Because only spoiled brats throw tantrums in the middle of Target, and my children would never, ever, ever be spoiled.
I was pretty sure that the only reason kids ever threw fits was to get what they wanted, and so the logical counter would be to ignore them and not give in. 
But as it turns out, there's a difference between "tantrums" and "meltdowns." Tantrums being emotionally-controlled, purposeful outbursts, and meltdowns being emotionally-uncontrolled break-downs caused by underdevelopment.
And so, it's not that my kids actually turned out to be spoiled or "bratty"; it's that my understanding of childhood behavior has developed. Now, that behavior is now reframed as a cue that my kids need my help to learn how to regulate their overwhelming emotions- not a cue that they're being "bad."

6. I would keep up with the housework.

I could not understand for the life of me why it was so hard to do the laundry and dishes on a regular basis. You clean up during nap time and after the kids go to bed, and do the other housework with them throughout the day. 
The logic was this: If I can keep up with the housework while nannying all day, why would I not be able to do it with my own kids?
And that logic breaks down right about the time that my own kids have kept me up all night, I haven't eaten in several hours, and by the time they go down for a nap, I want to do absolutely nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G.
Not even reach down and wipe that smashed grape off the floor.
No.
I'll just walk around it.

7. My baby would sleep through the night.

Babies just need to learn to sleep, I thought, and all I need to do is teach them.
(This one would be HILARIOUS if it wasn't for the fact that I haven't slept through the night for something like two years straight.)
I read a lot about baby sleep, and I read a lot of things that made sense at the time. Just teach the baby to sleep, and then you'll all be happy. And that's true, actually. But I realized very quickly after having my first child that, while I wanted her to sleep, I prioritized her emotional and psychological health more. And so, the books went out the window and we did what was right for her.
Which, actually, worked out fine with our first, as far as sleep goes, because she was a natural-born sleeper from the start.
Our second daughter is a night-waker and a nap-fighter, and putting her to sleep is basically a lost art that only my husband has tapped into. So I let him, because who am I to argue?

8. My kids wouldn't watch TV before 2, and would watch it minimally afterward.

BECAUSE STUDIES SHOW.
It was a good idea. Still working on that one.
First child was a little easier. We made it to something like 20 months before she watched Winnie-the-Pooh, at which point she became so obsessed with it that we let her watch it once a day.
The problem comes in with that second child, who is around while the older one is obsessively watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (we've since moved on from dear Pooh). How do you stop a toddling one year old from stopping two inches from the TV to dance to the Hot Dog Dance?
You don't. Okay?
You take that moment to go to the bathroom for the first time all morning, and maybe even check Facebook.
That's what you do.

9. I would be Eco-Mama Extraordinaire.

You get me. Cloth-diapers, homemade baby wipes, baby food from scratch, the whole nine yards. The biggest draw was the financial slack that we desperately needed when we had our first. And I actually did start out doing all of these things! It just didn't work for us in the long run, with the other 1000 things I started juggling.
 I keep telling myself that I'll do it with the next kid, so either I haven't really learned, or I will actually accomplish it someday. This one is yet to be seen.

 10. We wouldn't buy kitschy toys/clothes/etc.

I never got why parents would buy all these ridiculous things. Does your kid need a Dora the Explorer backpack? Um...no?
But there was something I really didn't account for, and that's "the look."
You know "that look," right? That look on your kid's face when they get something from that TV show they love, with their favorite character on it? That heart-eyed, you're-the-best-mom-ever look?
Yeah. That's the one.
Because the moment my daughter fell head-over-heels for Winnie the Pooh, it was all I could do not to buy her the entire collection of Pooh things. (You like those stickers? How about 5 more packs? Would you like a sippy cup and a dress to go with that?)
And if you don't know what "look" I'm talking about, you've probably never had a toddler. But if you do someday, you'll know when it happens to you. And you'll know, because you'll find yourself checking out at Target with 20 unplanned items with some Disney character plastered all over them.



Mamas, what did you think you'd be like as a parent, before you had kids?