Between holidays, I do my very best to get in the healthiest meals possible to remain healthy and full of much-needed energy for the season. So, bring me the figgy pudding! …
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The Beauty in Goodbyes
Are you familiar with the baby ninja flip-and-sit trick? I’m well versed, so allow me to explain. It involves setting your baby on the changing table to replace an old diaper with a new one (now that’s a euphemistic way of saying it!) However, the baby has alternate plans for this activity, like flipping over, sitting up and teetering on the edge of the table or clinging onto the wall-mounted shelf above like the cliff scene from The Good Son where the mom has to make a life or death choice between Elijah Wood and Macaulay Culkin. Anyways, changing a diaper upside down is no small feat. It requires the dexterity of a jeweler and the swiftness of a chef who’s five dinner orders behind.
This is one of many new tricks my daughter has revealed as of late. Another, cuter, trick is the famed wave goodbye. She flicks her wrist like she’s shooing away a bee, utters “bu bu” in the sweetest little voice I couldn’t imitate if I tried, all the while with a huge smile plastered on her face. Upon her learning this, something in me just fell to pieces. Perhaps it’s because, for much of my life, I have associated goodbyes with sorrow, and sorrow with a plea to God: “please make this go away.” It meant good things and good people I loved disappeared out of sight, and the connection and love along with it. It meant the end of a fun occasion: a family vacation, summer camp, a friendly phone call, a sleepover or the end of our family morning routine that often culminated in me crying in the hallway outside my classroom, pleading for my dad to take me back home. (Man I was a dramatic college student! Kidding.) What was I so afraid of? Losing my comfort, my life of cushy-cozy predictability? That the good times were somehow limited?
In just a short while, I know my daughter will likely begin these associations too, and goodbyes will inevitably morph from sweet princess waves to full-scale melodramatic meltdowns where it becomes hard to distinguish where the snot ends and the tears begin. You see, as babies and children, we naturally and biologically seek out comfort. We are hard-wired for it from the moment we depart the warmth of the womb and enter the cold, yet beautiful reality of life in the physical realm. Comfort is what my daughter seeks when she so sweetly pulls on my pant leg, begging to be held. It’s comfort she’s after when she cries for milk, acting, in an instant, like everything is right with the world when this need is obliged.
I’m so grateful to my daughter for teaching me that goodbyes can indeed be a beautiful thing. We have the ability and the freedom to say “sayonara” to what we choose: bad habits, deprivation, excess. In fact, we have to fight like hell to bid it adieu. We get to choose how we live every day. Because of this, goodbyes can maintain their sweetness, and we can return to what and to whom we love day in and day out. If we don’t take ownership of these choices, it could mean life or death. Sure, that may sound intense, but after an incredibly sobering experience these last several months dealing with myriad illnesses, I don’t care to mince words when it comes to taking care of business.
I love the Hawaiian term “Aloha” which is interchangeable for hello and goodbye. However, in addition to a greeting, it also has deeper cultural and spiritual significance meaning love, affection, peace, compassion and mercy.
May we all embrace the “aloha” spirit of goodbyes. May we cultivate love, affection, peace, compassion and mercy every single day we get to walk this planet.
Fare the well.
Gifts from my Father: Time
“Cover your ears”
These were the words I woke up to on countless Saturday and Sunday mornings as a boy and a young man. It was time to give thanks for the life given to continue ours.
“Don’t horse him”
The action was on. I was in a fight, but my opposition needed respect. Patience was paramount. My excitement wasn’t worth a needless waste of life.
“If you kill eat, you eat it.”
Rule #1. In addition to traditional game, I have eaten rattlesnake, squirrel, rabbit – both Cottontail (preferable) and Jack (texture like a tire), and every type of bird with the faintest appearance of a dove or quail.
During my formative years, I spent most my weekends 100 miles north of Austin (1) in the Texas Hill Country. My family has had a small ranch there since the early 1980s, when my dad acquired our little slice of heaven from a longtime friend and a man I consider a second father of sorts. Almost every Friday (or Thursday, if possible), my dad would pick me up from school and we would head to the ranch. My brother usually joined, and my sister came a little less often. I was a guarantee, though.
We would make our way up Highway 183 as fast as possible. No one passed us on the highway (2). Sometimes we would stop for groceries (cokes and snickers for both of us, Skoal Bandits for my dad), but most of the time there wasn’t anything more important than getting the hell out of town, especially not my dad’s patients. When we hit the road, he turned his pager off and his full attention on having fun with his kids.
Once we got to the ranch, we were free. There were only a few basic rules: Rule #1 (see above), treat every gun like it’s loaded, don’t point a gun at anything you don’t intend to shoot, and respect Mother Nature. We had dirt bikes, four wheelers, mopeds (3), an old Ford Bronco, an aluminum john boat with a trolling motor, fishing tackle, and all the guns and ammunition we needed (plus some, just in case). It was paradise.
I won’t get into the specifics of what all went down at the ranch in this post, but the point is we went, religiously. My dad always had the time, and there was nothing more important to him than spending time with his kids, somewhere the stars shine bright, away from the distractions of town and firmly planted in God’s creation.
My dad passed away in October 2016, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. I picture us in the deer blind, bass fishing on the lake, hunting squirrels on the river bottom, and all over our ranch (and countless other ranches). I am so grateful for the time we spent together. I lost my dad much sooner than I would have liked, but I was fortunate to spend a significant amount of time with him when he was here. I really knew my dad. I understood him, what made him tick. More than anything, I knew he loved me, because he showed me every weekend.
When I think about how I want to raise Townes, I look no further than the example my dad showed me. It’s completely ok with me if she doesn’t ever want to kill an animal, or if she is too afraid to touch a fish. None of that stuff really matters. Time does, though, and location is important. I want Townes to see and know me where I feel the most authentic and connected – not at a party or talking on my phone in the car – somewhere the stars shine bright, away from the distractions of town and firmly planted in God’s creation.
(1) 30 miles North of Lampassas, if you know Texas; 8 miles from Evant, if you grew up in the area; 5 miles from Star, if you’re one of the 12 people from Star.
(2) When I got my driver’s license, I realized its abnormal to ALWAYS be the fastest car on the road.
(3) Yes, we rode mopeds at the ranch. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. They are smooth, quiet, and fast – perfect for hunting.
Apple + Sausage Stuffed Kobocha Squash
So, I’m sitting here at my desk and Townes is fighting her second non-nap of the day because of Daylight Savings. How do you feel about Daylight Savings? Why am I even capitalizing it? Maybe you can perceive my feelings already. Once upon a time I didn’t think twice about the time change. Enter parenthood. Just not cool. …
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Infant Play Activities for Zero to Twelve Months
I cannot believe Townes will turn ONE this month. What a year it’s been, let me tell you! If you’ve been following my postpartum journey at all or read about our journeys into parenthood, you know it’s been an exceptionally hard road to wellness over here. Looking back, however, these past (almost) 12 months have included some of the most rewarding moments of my life. Learning alongside my little angel bug is always the highlight of my day, whether it’s exploring new books at the library or making messes in the kitchen. Below you’ll find different play activities we have enjoyed throughout Townes’s first year!
1. Singing
This can start as early as in utero. I have never considered myself much of a singer (“dying horse” is a good description of my vocal style), but it’s interesting how much better I’ve gotten since becoming a mom! It’s likely because we sing all day long, from the moment Townes wakes up, to her nighttime lullabies. (Well, Marshall normally sings those!) However, even with my background in child development, I would totally blank when it came time to sing to Townes in those first days. I just starting making up little tunes and lyrics of my own. An incredible resource for us has been a parent-child Spanish music class. If you’re located here in Austin, I highly recommend it. Otherwise, there are a plethora of great infant playlists on Spotify. Because we are aiming to raise Townes bilingual, many of our favorite tunes are Spanish (Duerme negrito, Los pollitos, Cu-cu cantaba la rana). And I would be remiss in forgetting to include… Baby Shark. Do do do do do do.
2. Story Time
Again, this is one that can start in utero. Incorporating story time into one’s routine has just as much to do with the parent learning to slow down and get on a baby’s level as it does honing a baby’s pre literacy skills and enriching his vocabulary. Early on it’s wonderful to read beautiful picture books, but you’ll know when it’s time to start adding Indestructibles, touch-and-feel, crinkle and board books into the mix. It’s important for baby to learn to manipulate his/her own book from an early age. Our current favorites: Hattie and the Fox, Eres mi mama? / Are you my mother?, Pat the Puppy and Besos for Baby.
3. Sensory Play
Yup. This is going to get messy. And if you’re one who likes things neat and tidy (I get it!) this has more to do with a parent making a paradigm shift as it relates to practicality and child development. An example: This morning, Townes wanted to play in the box of formula. My “practical” voice said to take it away, but my “child development” voice knew it would be a good way for her to explore texture with her hands. Sensory activities are easy to weave into everyday life. While everyone has different methods for feeding their babies, we do a ton of sensory exploration through food. I give Townes a whole banana and let her squeeze it through her hands, or paint hummus on her tray table. Other big sensory activities include time in the water, whether it’s swim lessons, a water table or bath time (or splashing and watching a wooden spoon float in the dog bowl, if I’m honest.) Infusing fun, hands-on opportunity really early on is key!
4. Play Dates
Many argue that this is silly until children can actually “play” together, but I disagree. Socializing children from a young age (after the Fourth Trimester) has countless benefits that I would argue are vital for baby’s growth. Baby-to-baby interactions help prime social skills like establishing eye contact, smiling, imitating and sharing. Plus it’s great for parents to engage along with them and facilitate in building foundational social skills (and, let’s be honest, have another parent to talk to!)
5. Independent Play
I’ve talked to a lot of mamas who have strong feeling when it comes to this activity, namely guilt. I hate to should on you, but I think you’ll allow this one…you should feel proud when you see your child playing independently without the need for constant human interaction and stimulation. It goes without saying that at this age there absolutely needs to be supervision. But that doesn’t mean you need to be right on your baby’s level playing with him all the time. Our favorite independent play time is when I am cooking in the kitchen. I make sure Townes is within sight and let her play with cooking spoons, cup measures, colanders, you name it. Real objects as opposed to “toy” are always preferable for us. In doing this, we begin viewing our children as little humans, rather than a completely separate species.
Now, what are your favorite baby playtime activities?
Mini Mummy Pizza Bites
Things sure are getting spoooooky around here.
And this mama is getting super excited for Townes’s first Halloween. She’s going to be so cute y’all. For all 3 minutes she’ll likely stay in her costume, ha!
I know she is way too young to appreciate an appetizer like this (or costumes or candy for that matter) but these Mini Mummy Pizza Bites are still so fun (and easy) to make! They’re sure to be a hit, whether you’re keeping it low key at home are partying it up.
Happy Halloween, everyone!
Mini Mummy Pizza Bites
Author:
gouramanda
Makes: makes a dozen
Prep time:
Cook time:
Total time:
Print
Ingredients
- 12 blini (frozen) or thin slices of baguette
- ¼ cup marinara
- ~20 kalamata olives or green olives stuffed with pimiento peppers, thinly sliced for eyes
- ¼ cup finely chopped pimiento peppers (for the eyes, if using kalamatas)
- ¼ cup finely shredded mozzarella or monterey jack cheese
Method
- Preheat oven to 375. Spray a baking pan with nonstick cooking spray. Lay the blini/crostini slices down. Ladel a small spoonful of marina over the top. Slice eyes (olives). If using kalamatas, chop pimientos for the eyes too. Place olives down for eyes. Sprinkle cheese in a "mummy fashion" over the top, keeping olives exposed. Bake for 10 minutes. Remove and add some more "mummy layering" with the cheese. Serve hot with more marinara!
Our Journeys into Parenthood
Amanda
I’ll never forget when Marshall and I first opened the conversation about expanding our family. I decided to stop taking birth control while on a vacation in Taos, New Mexico. A few mornings after doing this, I awoke in a state of sheer panic. “Nope, not ready for this. I don’t want to be a mom… just yet.” Frantically, I searched for my pack of pills, exhaled a deep sigh of relief and resumed living our relatively predictable, lovely life.
We didn’t revisit the conversation until almost a year later. A lot of life happened in that year. We spent Butch’s (my late FiL) last days laughing, watching birds and holding hands up until God decided to take him back home (2 years ago today.) We moved. We started afresh. And then…
“Should we?”
People always asked how we knew when we we ready and, for me, I had always wanted to be a mother. But when? Do we get our ducks in a row first? I’ve never really had ducks. My life has been more of monkeys at a rave. But maybe we knew because, instead of a rave, the monkeys were at a chill, outdoor country concert. Life was a little more stable.
Two months (really ~two days) of trying and we were pregnant. I don’t take this blessing lightly. I know many who have endured years of countless rounds of IVF, long adoption processes and immeasurable heartache for a baby. My heart is with you.
We were not expecting to expect so quickly but, just like that, we were! I had a relatively healthy and textbook pregnancy, an incredibly long childbirth which unfolded in the exact opposite manner of how I envisioned it (head: humming kumbaya in a bathtub…reality: almost every medication they could give me…30+ hours…you can read more in Townes’s Birth Story.)
And then. The most perfect angel. She’s my everything. I made a career shift and left my job teaching to stay home full time and it’s been the most wonderful, challenging thing I’ve ever done.
I won’t sugar coat the hard parts. My journey into parenthood robbed me of my sanity and wellbeing. When Townes was around five months old I would set her down into her crib imagining that it was like giant, black hole eating her up, thinking thoughts like these were normal. And that was just the beginning. I experienced major postpartum psychosis and was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder in the postpartum period. I had to wave the white flag and ask for help in ways I never imagined I would. Our marriage suffered. Our finances were a mess. It was HARD and it still is sometimes.
But the joy. Oh the immeasurable joy. There is nothing quite like it. Regardless of the amount of sleep I get, I awake every day with a smile plastered on my face. My spiritual life has ascended to new levels. My relationship with Marshall is even more meaningful. Watching him father Townes is shot after shot of oxytocin. He is the most dedicated, loving, hands-on, and gentle father I could ever wish for our daughter. And getting to be his partner in parenthood is the best. After being wife, being mama is my biggest blessing and my favorite hat I don (and I am a woman of many hats.) Motherhood is as exhausting and ego-shattering as it is beautifully rich, meaningful and fun.
And fatherhood? Oh boy. We don’t talk about this enough! I am eager to hear Marshall’s take on his journey into parenthood…
Marshall
I don’t recall the exact moment Amanda and I agreed it was a good time to have a kid, but I do remember being quite shocked when she said it would involve trying for multiple months, even years, if it happened at all. I felt like my life was one big lie; either Amanda or every adult I had ever talked to about S-E-X was full of S-H, err poop. As far as I knew, kids were born when adults even thought about snuggling without pajamas on.
As it turns out, adults are a totally unreliable source of information[1], and I had spent hours and hours worrying about nothing. I could have spent that time worrying about other, equally unlikely imagined future difficulties but instead WASTED it thinking about having a child.
Regardless, I do remember the moment we found out we were going to be parents[2]. We were in Venice Beach, CA on vacation, and Amanda was complaining about “feeling different”. At first, I dismissed her comments as WebMD-induced psychosomatic illness (I joke that, based on her browsing history, WebMD tells Amanda “go to bed and it will all be better in the morning”), but I was more intrigued than usual, given our goalkeeper was no longer in the box, per se. I can still see the pregnancy test in my hand. Two lines. Pregnant.
I won’t pretend to fully understand what happened over the next 8 months, but it seemed like a really, really long time. It also didn’t seem real. I remember sitting in the OBGYN office, seeing a grainy picture of a little alien and thinking two things: 1.) I will play along with everyone else, but I don’t see anything that looks like a person and 2.) This doesn’t seem/feel like real life. Thought #1 changed VERY quickly. Thought #2 has changed much more gradually.
Our time at the hospital and the first few days at home were quite surreal. I almost felt like I was observing my life from a third-person perspective and everything happening wasn’t really happening to Marshall Munden. The first time I saw Townes, I remember thinking to myself, “this is the biggest moment of your life so far” then immediately feeling guilty, like I wasn’t able to appreciate it enough or love her enough because I was too confused. Everything happening was so far from my prior experience on earth that I really struggled to make sense of what was going on. During our first night as a family of three, I woke up annoyed to the noise of a baby crying, and it took longer than I am proud to admit for me to realize it was OUR baby.
To be honest, I felt like a bystander for a while. There was just so much for me to sort out in my head that I didn’t feel fully present. Our whole family had been reorganized overnight. I went from being the outspoken CEO to an unpaid intern in the hospitality group. The new boss never told us what she wanted. She would scream and cry until we figured it out. Often times, she sh*t her pants in the process. I never imagined Amanda could act like that 😉
In the last 10 months, I have learned to understand the Boss Baby much better. I have figured out what she likes – warm bahbah (bottles), peek-a-boo and staring at mom – and what she doesn’t like – cold milk, me going away for real and being more than 5 feet away from mom. As I have gotten to know her better I have grown to love her more and more. It feels really strange saying this, but I don’t think I felt the same type of love for her as Amanda did right when she was born. I know I loved her, but I think our relationship has really blossomed as I have gotten to know her more. I had to interact with her and get to know her to really feel a super strong bond, and that process didn’t happen overnight. It definitely happened, though. Now I can’t even describe my love for her – words are insufficient. When I see her smile, everything else goes dark, and I am so present and in love; my only goal is to make her smile.
I have learned a lot about myself through learning to love Townes. I constantly think about the example I am showing her, and my character defects have become painfully obvious. I want to be the best version of myself, so that she grows up with a healthy understanding of how men should behave and treat her. I still have a long way to go, but every moment of pain and self-sacrifice is made worthwhile with her precious smile. Don’t even get me started on her laugh…
[1] Brief parenting experience has shown me adults often lie for good reasons, such as: wanting children to go to bed early, saving money, and perpetuating myths about 24-hour surveillance by magical humans/animals.
[2] I tried to avoid saying, “WE’re pregnant”. I know it’s the PC thing to say, but it actually feels somewhat dismissive of mothers to me. I didn’t grow an 8 lb. miniature person inside me, carry it everywhere for 40 weeks and spend 24 hours in excruciating pain ejecting it. I fielded a few unusual meal requests and installed a car seat.
Sole Nicoise en Papillote
Don’t allow the sophisticated sounding nature of this recipe deter you; it’s actually stupid simple. As in, forgetting-to-plan-dinner-until-30-minutes-before-but- also-want-something-healthy-and-delicious, kind of recipe. …
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Roasted Veggie Greek Bowl Salad
Summer is finally here y’all! And my body is slightly in shock by this because we returned from autumn in Argentina just a few days ago. (Our trip to Buenos Aires was absolutely divine. More on this later…thinking I will add a new “travel” section with mini city guides!)…
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My Motherhood Muses: A Mother’s Day Q + A
Today is my very first Mother’s Day. I’m sitting in bed petting our dog Lincoln, watching my husband crawl under a sheet he just nailed to the door frame to create a ventilation system for our portable A/C unit in our bedroom because our A/C compressor blew out. It’s May in Texas, have you. Now we’re laughing and whispering over our five month old daughter who is asleep in our room because her nursery is 90 degrees. Though, as I sit here with sweat dripping down my neck, click-clacking away on the computer, my heart has never felt more whole.
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