Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

(photo by Daria, used with permission)

A week of meals for $149

For those who are interested and keep nagging and berating asking me so kindly ... here is our week's worth of meals and how that looked in my grocery cart today. If I had to buy every single thing, it would certainly cost more. However, I tend to look at what I have bleeding over from the previous week, and choose some meals to get as much use out of that stuff as possible. What's that saying? "Take all you want, but eat what you take."



Breakfasts:

Apple Cinnamon Oatmeal (we have oats left over from last week and we'll top with nuts and stuff we have left over - I buy those things only as we run out)
Waffles (twice) with honey, berries, nuts, cinnamon, whatever
Cereal w/berries and whatever-else (twice - we have three leftover boxes from last week: corn flakes, wheat squares and Cheerios)
Delightful Banana (we don't put in nuts) Muffins
Green smoothies (bananas, strawberries, leftover cacao, spinach leaves, almond milk)

Lunches:

Veggie sandwiches with hummus (still have veggie slices left from last week)
Nachos twice (oven-baked tortilla chips, refried beans, homemade salsa and veggies shreds)
Bagel veggie sandwiches
Packed sandwiches for homeschool co-op day
And one day of hodge-podge leftovers where we eat up all leftover lunch stuff in the strangest concoctions possible - FUN!
We'll be eating out once for lunch - we almost always eat out for Sunday lunch ... it's our "thing"

Dinners:

Carrot and Red Pepper Soup - a triple recipe with some garlic toast (I have some leftover onions from last week)
Penne with cut-up veggie dogs and homemade spaghetti sauce
Thai Chickpea Curry with Thai Basil on whole grain rice (had some leftover rice and a can of chickpeas, so I found a way to use them)
Cheese tortellini with vodka sauce (an easy and not-as-healthy meal to treat us after our long day at co-op)
We'll have two nights of leftovers as we go along
We're eating out once for dinner, also this week, to celebrate the holiday (so, that's only TWO MEALS OUT - out of 21 meals)


My shopping list:

2 bunches of organic bananas
3 bags of organic carrots
strawberries
bag of unsalted, not-roasted sunflower seeds
organic spinach (the BIG tub)
tomato
2 avocados
3 bell peppers
6 red peppers
2 packages of veggie shreds
1 package of veggie dogs
2 tubs of hummus (two different flavors - can make my own, but they had a little sale, so I was ON it!)

My own personal treat for the holiday weekend ...
1 bottle of organic Chardonay ($11 - Ms. Knighton would be proud)
2 kinds of cheeses
crackers

box of whole wheat pancake mix (making the waffles more convenient - will use milled flaxseed to replace the eggs)
local honey
plain almond milk
chocolate almond milk
2 loaves of whole wheat bread
2 packages of whole wheat bagels
1 package of corn tortillas
2 cans of vegetarian refried beans
2 cans coconut milk
red curry paste
2 jars of vodka sauce
4 large cans of crushed tomatoes
1 carton of vegetable broth
2 boxes of whole wheat penne pasta

frozen bag of stir fry veggies
large bag of frozen cheese tortellini
apple juice concentrate




(super cool cart photo by Dave Di Biase, used with permission

There is beauty in chaos

It was exactly a year ago when I told you about Picasso, and how we had to ask him to leave the park. That was a hard day. Yet, I was also glad that he would be closer to the things he wanted.

What he truly needed was round-the-clock care, but he would fight you to the death on that one. We tried. We tried to work with him. We tried to override him. So, we got him settled, and have continued to see him at least once a month. He can't afford a P.O. box, so we still collect his mail for him - including his SS check.

Yesterday was the 2nd. We had not yet remembered to take his check into town. When that happens, he always pays someone to drive him out. Yet, it had been almost two full days, and no Picasso. That was not cool. Something was going on.

Right after dinner, I headed into town. I didn't know what I would find. He has never been in good shape. Yet, things have worsened over the last few months.

I knocked on his window ... his window to the world. No answer. He is always home. He has no car, and cannot walk very far. I knocked some more and called his name. So, slowly, I pressed my face against the glass of the window, hoping beyond hope that he would not be lying there on his bed in front of me, lifeless.

He was not there.

Still no relief. What if he had died, and no one had moved the trailer yet?

I knocked on some more doors. One woman, who I had met several times, answered (she would help him out quite a bit, or give him rides occasionally). She explained that he had, indeed, become so ill that they picked him up and took him to a nursing home on doctor's orders.

I knew this would have pissed him off. He never wanted to be in that type of situation. He didn't want people too close. Yet, I was so very glad. I didn't want him dying in that trailer. He deserves better, whether he believes it or not.

This is when my entire night turned upside down. I have had so many tears and move instantaneously from sadness to utter joy. It was a bizarro world. You see, I left his trailer ...



And I found him here. Go look. GO LOOK AT THAT PLACE RIGHT NOW! Those are not canned photos. That is EXACTLY what I saw. EXACTLY that luxurious and pristine.

I spent a half hour with him. My emotions weren't sure where to land. It was so good to see him doing better. He still can barely walk, and relies on a wheelchair. However, his arms looked pink. Not white from the horrible flaking skin. But actually pink. His eyes were moist and clear. His hair was thicker than it had been. He did not have the air on at all, so it was a complete sauna in there. Yet, even with that, it was the longest I had ever spent with him in an enclosed space. It just wasn't possible before.

His room was really, really nice. He had a TV with cable (had not had a TV in years ... or a phone ... or a refrigerator ... or an air conditioner ... or a bathroom, for that matter).

Yet, if they would let him leave, he would happily go straight back to his trailer this second. He complained about the people (the staff) ... all the many, different people that would come in and out to check on him. He hates that. He doesn't hate people, per say, but he doesn't want to be told to bathe or made to bathe. He doesn't want to feel weak and helpless. He was okay with how things were.

Even though they were so very, very bad and his conditions were going to literally kill him.

I asked if the kids and I could come back, and he was thrilled. I caught him up on all the people out here in our little "neighborhood." Told him that the park is full, and he was excited to hear it. We talked about Willie, and how much we miss him ... reminisced about how those two would sit on a picnic table between their trailers and gripe at each other like brothers.

They brought him there with just the clothes on his back, which I'm sure were quickly incinerated. So, all he has are some sweats and socks from their laundry room. I'll be finding him some Wranglers and a nice button down shirt or two. I didn't see his cowboy hat, so we'll have to fix that, as well. Will try to locate some boots that he can get onto his feet, enough to dress for dinner. At this point he has yet to leave his room most days.

I was leaving, and he said, "Thank you for caring. You are the only person who has come to see me."

My emotions still don't know where to land. I just know I have a lot of them.

What's new? Or, what's happenin' hot stuff?

Remember that gal, Sandra, that I met at BlogHer, then annoyed constantly the entire weekend? Yup, well, she finally started a blog. Check out It's Always an Adventure. My favorite quote thus far is, "Suck it up princess."

My recent guest blogger, Jana Yowell, is now officially a ... well ... blogger! Check out Jana Yowell and all she has to share. This is info from a trainer, friends. Good stuff, and she'll keep it coming. If it doesn't, we will all go pick on her in the comments until it does! My favorite quote so far is, "Pop tarts and coffee do not qualify as a nutritious breakfast." Whooo. Good thing I have my coffee AFTER my nutritious breakfast. Ha. KIDDING! no i'm not

Summer introduced me to this amazing new-to-me-T. I'm chewing on the description, "Conflict is the refusal to imagine, to think or to talk. Creativity is peace, hope and progress."

Speaking of new. I also have lots and lots and lots of new emails in my inbox. On top of that, I think there are about 13 old emails, that I never got to ... some from months ago. That really does not sit well with me. I let some moms slip through the cracks. NOT OKAY WITH ME! So, if I did that to you, email me again, please. I'm slow on the turn-around these days, but I'll get there. YOU ARE IMPORTANT!

Oh, the green-eyed Burning Man monster

I cannot help but have some burning (get it?) jealousy within me.

I would love to be at Burning Man right now.

Love.

LOVE.

I will go. It's gonna' happen. I'm shooting for 2012.

In the meantime, I am reading the recaps from Chris and Cherie and staying glued to their Flickr stream. There are plenty of people posting and blogging along the way, but I love seeing what specifically catches the eyes of my friends.

Unleashed creativity and self-expression. Sigh.

In the meantime, my life is anything but sucky. The Tacky Texans are here. HERE. In the park. Living. For ... a good, long while. The amazing R came down and helped the kids make magic to hang from our trees, which are catching and reflecting light as I type, out the window - beautiful.



Unleashed creativity and self expression. Smile.

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

(photo by Itzick, used with permission)

I'm not as young as you think I am

Call it good genes. I don't know.

My mom has never looked her age. I have never looked my age.

I tend to perpetually look about 12. Not so cool when you are co-teaching at a middle school and spend the first week being stopped by other teachers for not having a hall pass. Literally. Three times.

Thankfully, I have a lovely reminder that I am, in fact, 38. It's called - my body.

My limbs have this funny little party game they like to play. And they believe life is a party. They fall asleep much more quickly than they used to. So, I can sit all floppy and young and twisted up on a cushion in the floor (still my favorite way to sit, but ...). The cool factor disintegrates quickly when I stand up and fall over onto a numb lump of flesh. Or I hop around throughout the pins-and-needles phase.

38.

If I lean too long in one position, everything freezes up. It used to do this - ya' know - when you found yourself stuck somewhere for hours. But my body is all about the microwave generation now. It likes to speed things up. Stiffening up within minutes. One second, you're leaning up against something with your wrist bent back just so, enjoying a chat. The next second, you move said wrist and it is so very .... ah, frick-a-frack-a, ga-ka*^!%&*! Ow, ow, OOWWWWWW! Or you're just starting to move and you feel that pain - that slight pain that says, "If you just start moving normally, you are going to hate yourself ... take it easy there, partner." Of course, it only happens during very convenient moments. Never during ... oh, I don't know ... sex. Nope. Never.

*Don't tell me to switch positions regularly. My body is also like an extremely ADHD child. If I change anything too often during the lovey-dove, I lose my concentration. Gotta' stay focused, or you add another 20 minutes to the whole process. It's a delicate balance. Don't lean on the wrists too long. But don't lose your concentration. But don't get bored. But get off that other wrist. Entering the stiff pain zone, three minute mark, but if you move you lose your focus, but if you don't move you'll ... ah, FRICK!*

It's the three to the eight, baby.

I am officially "running" now. I was in track in school. I loved to sprint. Loved it. I could power pack everything into that short distance. I didn't do long distances. Good for the ones who did. Yea for them. Not me, though. I was a sprinter. Over and done. Even in practice, I had never run a full mile without stopping. Never. Ever. Yet, yesterday, I ran almost two.

That makes me sound so very athletic, doesn't it? Well, what you don't know is how my big age indicator reacted - my body. You see, I eat healthy and I get plenty of sleep on a regular basis. Yet, I was pushing my body beyond the norm and it was ... well, it was really, really tired. Almost fell asleep sitting up - multiple times. When I ate, I scarfed down food as though it might disappear before my eyes in 20 seconds or less. And the yawning - out of control. My body was tired. The exercise is great, and I will continue it, sure. But my body doesn't "ease" into this kind of thing like it used to.

Hello, 40. Wanna' start a little foreplay? K, but you have to be on top, cause I ain't leaning on nuthin'!

I actually love getting older. I adore gaining wisdom and having life experiences that only come with many flips of the calendar. By most standards, I'm also still an infant (my parents, for instance, are cursing me right now, "Oh, you think YOUR body is aging?!?" I know, I know - I get it!). For me, though, I appear to be such a massive contradiction.

No matter how I look on my best days, I'm so very NOT in my 20's. Not even close. My body reminds me - cause it's fancy like that.

(photo was taken in March, by Sara Janssen, who brings out the young in everyone)

Things I have not been talking about

Three things:

I have owned and loved my pair of these for a couple of months:



Love them. LOVE THEM. They have a learning curve, but absolutely cause my frame to function as it's supposed to. I have not talked specifically about my gecko feet (what boring people call Vibram Fivefingers) because of something else I started ... again.

This morning I completed Week Five, Day Two of Couch 2 5K! I have started this program several times before. I could always get to about week three, but then it got very cumbersome AND tiring. A bad combination. I just used my watch or a stopwatch. Always staring down. Always ticking away every single second. BLECGH! And I stopped. Never really got to Week Four, ever. Until now. And I really do put all of my success on ... the last thing I haven't talked about here on my little bloggy blog.

I have an iPhone 4. Crazy, right? How I ended up with it is even crazier. It was a combination of our phone plan being at "upgrade" level sooner than expected (thanks to being around this really cool manager guy at the right place/right time) and the cost was not much more than what we were prepared to pay for an upgrade, anyway. Blah-blah-blah ... my very first Mac anything is the newest iPhone. I have since discovered that "smart phones" make you feel like an idiot. But I digress ...

So, I have the C25K app on my phone. I pick what music I want on my playlist for each workout. This nice little man stops my music with a "ding" and tells me when to walk or run. He tells me when I'm halfway done, so I can turn around and head back toward home. I just listen to music and try not to pass out. I can do that. I'm really good at trying not to pass out. When I'm done, I can take notes or post it to Twitter (which I did NOT do until I reached Week Five ... knowing I may bail on the program and having every shouting, "LOSER!").

*note: you can download a Couch 2 5K podcast from iTunes for your mp3 - no "smart phone" needed!*

Anywho, these are my two "big purchases" of 2010. The gecko feet are PRICEY. I saved for quite the while for those suckers. The iPhone is PRICEY, and I would have never picked one up had it not been for that beautiful upgrade discounted price from AT&T, and the fact that it was time that we could sneak in an upgrade (and that our other phones were having issues and pretty much beat to a bloody pulp).

The C25K app, though, is only $3. Boo-ya!

All three ... worth the money, worth the months of research and worth the wait.

Today, I actually felt loving feelings for my child

It is a dangerous stew.

The female cycle in a very traumatized girl, who lives in a constant state of shame.

That same girl has a birthday today.

She sabotages her own birthday - destroys it - stomps it into nothingness, because she doesn't believe she deserves it.

This is following 2.5 years of Mom being beat to a pulp under the fear of that trauma. Daily darts of rejection from your child. This is tough stuff (and that sentence is such a JOKE - there is absolutely no way to truly capture what it means to parent our hurt kids).

This morning, she was the last to come out of her room. I was nervous.

She walked through the living room and her older sister started beating out "Happy Birthday" on the keyboard (she has been working all week on this). Mar smiled. at. her. sister. and waited for her to finish, before talking.

Everyone told her happy birthday and she. smiled. and said, "thank you." They all talked about cards and pictures they wanted to give her, and asked if they should do them now or wait. She. smiled. (seeing a theme here?) and told them to wait until later. I said, "Maybe tonight when we have your cake after Dad gets home." And. she. smiled.

I said, "Mar, I thought you might want to start your birthday by reading all of the comments from people on my blog yesterday." And. she. smiled. and said, "Okay."

I just watched her, walking down with her siblings to do some chores, until she was out of sight. Head buried in that paper. Thinking of the time when my walls were covered in letters from all of my readers, reminding her that I was a good mom and she could trust me. Remember that? We still have them all in a notebook.

And I cried.

I also felt this thing ... this thing we all WANT to feel, but have long since lost in the middle of the pain and rejection.

I felt loving feelings for my child. In that moment, I wanted to run her down and wrap my arms around her and smell her hair.

No, really.

Instead of painfully embarrassing the 11-year-old, I'm crying while I write this out. Praying, hoping, dreaming for more. Knowing the day is not over and may very well change, but I will take my moment. The moment is huge. The moment proves this can be done - that not just she can heal, but that she can draw others to her by her mere existence.

Today, I actually felt loving feelings for my child.

I could get used to this healing stuff

I continue to hear from more and more people who are seeing some benefits of niacin in their kids who have a history of trauma. I'm sure one day, someone will finally get around to doing an actual study (one that many people can argue over and refute). In the meantime, there are plenty of us who will continue to supplement some of our kids because ... it helps.

Niacin has not been a magic pill for my daughter. Even with it, we have had some terrible days. But overall? It has brought MASSIVE benefits. The big picture is that she is not shooting to the extremes all the time. I would say it cut back 60-75% of the really harsh, immediate reactions to the tiniest of requests and questions.

Which means that we have also had to dig in and start to really do some hard work at helping her to move forward, now that she can. It's a big, crazy juggle. Some days she can talk. Other days, we have to keep things simple. I just do my best to read where she is. Nudge when I think I can nudge. Back off when I'm being a trigger. It's tricky. I'm not particularly fond of this stage.

Yet, we have seen a very slow progress since the niacin, that we have never seen before. We were able to take some actual therapeutic interventions to a new level.

Case in point ...

I have recently talked Rocky and Mar both through some basic Cognitive Behavioral Therapy steps (could NOT do something like this a year ago - would be a waste of time for Mar). When they are regulated, we talk about the big feelings they have and the lie that the hurt part tells them in those moments. We write them down. Talk about how those big feelings are the "red flag" when we need to tell ourselves, "STOP!" We then list all of the typical behavior things they do when they have that big feeling.

The front of one card may look like this:

I feel disgusting. The hurt part tells me that I am gross, and that is why my birth family let me be adopted and people kept hurting me and sending me away.

When I feel disgusting, I usually

*do stuff to annoy people, so they will also think I'm bad
*dress disgusting
*smell disgusting
*do things to gross people out

Then, we flip that card over and state the truth. I ask them to come up with some OTHER things they could do instead of the regular behaviors. We talk about how it's easy to do the old stuff. Anybody can do that. But strong kids try new behaviors. The other side of the card might say:

I am beautiful, pure, clean and lovely. I will

*use my words to make people feel great
*dress beautifully
*smell extra lovely
*act in a way that makes people want to be near me

This one was a biggie, and painful for her. We went through closets and drawers to make some changes (and trash things that needed to go). We discussed how on the really tough days, she could ask her big sister to help her get ready - how she should not just dress okay, but dress EXTRA special on the hardest days, smell EXTRA special on the hardest days. Also, I was clear that she would still feel disgusting. The feeling does not go away just by dressing, smelling and behaving the truth. We talked about what it might be like to feel that feeling, but make the positive choice anyway.

So, that's where we've been. Fast forward to yesterday. We had one minor incident at the store, so I just kept Mar with me and my youngest for that short trip (her older siblings got to look at toys). On the way out, she was carrying our 500 lbs of toilet paper we had just purchased. I very clearly told her she could put it in the front passenger's seat. Everyone was trying to pile into the car, and there she stood, crouched over in the middle of the van, blocking the rest of her siblings from getting in. "Um, what am I supposed to .. where do I put it?" She was in the play-dumb mode. I IMMEDIATELY started to churn my brain on what I would do when she refused to let me talk her down and stayed dysregulated til we got home. Once she is there - in it - she never comes out until later. So, I was prepared for the dance.

If you parent kids from the hard places, you know what I'm talking about. There is "slightly dysregulated." There is "kind of a rough day." There is "getting on top of it before it even starts." But then, there is full-on, already THERE. When they are THERE ... you just get comfortable and buckle up for the ride, doing everything in your power to keep it from complete explosion.

"Mar, this is one of those times we have talked about. You are feeling one of those big feelings right now. The hurt part is telling you not to listen to me and not to show me any respect. If you do, it means I'm the grown-up, and I may harm you. It's time to tell the hurt part to STOP. You know you can trust me. You've tested me, and I passed ... for 2.5 years, I have shown you. Normally, you would pretend not to know what you should do. I will probably have someone else tell you or do it for you, and you'll put some love back into them later. OR, you could try really hard to do the strong thing. You could tell yourself the truth, and make the positive choice, EVEN THOUGH YOU STILL FEEL THAT BIG FEELING. Your choice."

Her face did not change. Her hands were actually shaking ... but ... guys, MY DAUGHTER PUT THE TOILET PAPER IN THE PASSENGER'S SEAT!

In 867 days (yes, I counted), she has never, ever, when stuck in the moment, EVER DONE THAT! OMG!!!

She just stood there for a minute. She wasn't sure what to do. No one did. It was a temporary, complete silence. Like a dream. I finally said, "Um," (started to smile), "holy crap!" SHE finally smiled. "Well, why don't you sit in your seat. I guess we get to find out if you can have a big feeling, make a positive choice and NOT die. Of course, if you DO die, what will we do?"

"Have a nice service and play my favorite songs."

"That's right."

Her brothers and sisters broke out in applause, which was really sweet and made her smile bigger. Yeah for them. They knew it was the right thing to do, and they wanted to honor the magnitude of what she had just done.

She did not do one single thing the rest of the day to go back to dysregulation. Have I mentioned that this is during her cycle? The time over the last few months when we have been struggling severely? Oh, and this week is her BIRTHDAY (which she has sabotaged the last two years)! Should I say that part again, just for emphasis?

OH MY HOLY HOOCH, YA'LL!

My daughter was so very far gone when she came to us. The way she did and did not behave frightened me. She had ZERO attachment to any human being. She could shut down easily, and completely disassociate from herself and the world around her ... not for hours, but for days ... weeks. I have spent nights crying and worrying about her future, and all the many people who would cross her path and be affected by her own inner turmoil.

Yet, yesterday ... she put the toilet paper in the passenger's seat.

Be encouraged.