Every Rose Has Its Thorn

I know - gone for weeks and I return with a Poison reference. Forgive me. (Does it make it better or worse that it was actually inspired by a Miley Cyrus remake? Worse? Yea - I thought so.)

The truth of the matter is, I've been having a hard time writing lately and this quote is actually a good descriptor of my problem. You see, I love to write. I feel so much better, more like myself, when I'm writing regularly. It's always been that way and I am quite sure it always will be.

But there's a flipside to that love relationship with words. A downside. You see, I also need to write.

Doesn't sound like a downside necessarily does it? But it is. Its that need that makes writing hard for me at times. Near impossible. Borderline painful.

Why is that? Because I don't feel good when I censor myself. But I can't always say what I want. Sometimes I'm not ready. Sometimes what's on my heart just isn't something I need to (or want to!) share. But when I can't write what's right at my fingertips, I sometimes just... can't write.

So I figured I would start with this quote, and see what else comes out. And actually, it's really a pretty appropriate quote for a lot of situations, most notably even for today - Valentines Day. Of course, it's kind of a cheap observation that this quote is good for love because, well, it comes from a song about love. But still - it's a valid point. Marriage has been, easily, one of the absolute hardest things I have ever done. But, just as easily, the most rewarding.

I figure parenthood will be the same. Already, being pregnant has been both the most exciting time and the most frustrating. I'm thrilled at the idea of welcoming our child into our family but sick of being sick (and tired!). I can't wait to find out who our baby will be and what they will want in life but it seems like an eternity before they'll even take their first breath much less have a first conversation.

All of this, of course, goes along with the cliche 'all things worth doing are difficult' - which is really only partly true because I can think of several things worth doing that are quite easy (a pregnant woman scarfing down a corndog comes to mind). But seeing as I'm mostly just talking to myself to get through what some would call 'writer's block', just roll with the cliche, okay?

Forgive me for being negligent (and for coming back with this ramble). I promise, I'll be back to myself soon. Every day I feel more like myself than the day before and I hear that this next three months will be the 'easiest' in terms of how I'll feel physically. And I'm looking forward to that.

What They Don't Tell You

I've decided I'm going to lay bare some of the many secrets I am discovering about being pregnant in just the short 11 weeks that I've actually been pregnant. There are so many things that they just don't tell you and I'm going to spill the secrets right here.


'Morning Sickness' - By now, we all know that morning sickness is not relegated to mornings and can happen at any time of day. But take everything you know about throwing up from previous experiences and toss it out the window. Because when you're pregnant, it'll be the first time in your life where you finish a nice restaurant meal, go straight to that same restaurant's bathroom and toss your $20 straight into the toilet and instead of being annoyed you just rinse your mouth and go about your day. It'll also be the first time you come straight out of the bathroom at home, work, or a restaurant from losing your lunch and sit straight down to dinner without a pause (although I would recommend brushing your teeth).

The Belly Rest - So we've all seen them - the pregnant women with their hands draped across their bulging bellies or rubbing the edges. I never really contemplated it before - why they might actually be doing that. But now I know. There are really two purposes for such movements:

1) When you're at the stage about where I am right now and you've got the little belly bulge, you don't so much look like you're pregnant as that you've been overdoing it at the all-you-can-eat buffet. Thus, the belly rest. If you rest your hand on the top of that little bulge (which gets larger if you just filled your belly with lunch) then it says 'There's a baby in there - not a double cheeseburger and extra fries!'

2) One of the weirdest aspects of pregnancy (at least to me) is that your body does all sorts of strange things seemingly without explanation. Right now, for me, this includes strange, sporadic, unpredictable little pains in the edges of my belly - I'm assuming because Baby is making room to expand his/her one-room studio into something bigger. So sometimes I'm rubbing around the edges of my belly because I'm thinking 'Ow! Hey - watch it in there!'

Maternity Clothes - I think that maternity clothes are probably some of the best kept pregnancy secrets. I think it's ridiculous that these inventions are just for pregnancy. They'd be so handy for those times where you're transitional between two sizes! For example - the belly band. This ingenious little device allows you to wear pants that are too small by holding them up if you can't quite close them. But it also allows you to still wear pants that are too big by squeezing them together at the top. Who couldn't use one of those just on a regular I-lost-a-few-pounds type month? I could've totally rocked one of these things last year when I was transitioning down from the bigger sizes but didn't want to buy a whole new wardrobe.

The other aspect of maternity clothes that I think is a hidden secret? Maternity pants are the most COMFORTABLE THINGS EVER. I have no idea how I'm going to go back to my regular jeans when these jeans feel like pajama pants.

Eating - It's a common misconception that the greatest thing about pregnancy (at least to someone like me who loves to eat) is that you'll get to eat whatever the heck you want. Well... not so much. There's all sorts of restrictions (even right down to what types of CHEESE!) and top that off with the fact that you're sick all the time so you're really only eating whatever sounds least-likely-to-make-a-reappearance. For me, at least, this (and the gluten-free diet, which is mostly for baby) has probably actually been good because it's kept me from just going off the deep end weight-gain wise. I'm still trying to figure out the monitored-weight-gain concept - it goes against everything I've ever tried to do - but so far I seem to be doing okay. I'm right on target so far so hopefully it stays that way!

Exhaustion - Most parents, when they find out you're pregnant, will start telling you to 'sleep now!' and 'Enjoy sleeping while you can!' These tips either come from men or from women who didn't have sleep issues while pregnant (they are about as obnoxious as the ones who never puked - uuurrrggghhh those women get me right now). That is because the general pregnant population does not get good sleep. At all. I have not gotten a good night's sleep since probably week 6 or 7 when the pee-every-hour-on-the-hour symptom kicked in. But now even beyond that I find that sleeping is pretty awkward. I'm supposed to sleep on my side, which I generally do anyway, but my shoulders feel weird and my hips sit funny and so I've taken to wrapping myself around a body pillow like a baby koala wraps around its mama swinging through the trees. And I hear it only gets worse. Oh joy.


Well I could go on and I imagine that as the weeks go by, I'll discover ever more things that aren't like you expect or that I never heard anything about because my parents were worried if they told me I'd never give them grandbabies. Already I've told Colin we have to cease-and-desist all conversations about a Baby #2. There will need to be some forgetting before there is a Baby #2.

Or, you know, I always wanted to adopt one. So we might do that. Yea. Right now, that sounds good.

Coming Back

I'm so embarassed. It's been OVER a month. Ugh - I apologize. What a terrible blogger I've been. But I have a reason. No, no - not an excuse. A real, honest-to-goodness reason.

And instead of telling you about it, I'm going to show you:

I know - crazy right? Colin and I are going to be parents.

So you see, I've been absent because I've been, well - there's no delicate way to say this - sick as all get out. And I wasn't ready to spill the baby beans on the internet. I've tried multiple times over the past month to post but... I couldn't seem to keep Baby out of my writing! So I finally just decided to wait.

It's been pretty nerve-wracking really. I'm an anxious worrier by nature and the only thing I knew about my pregnancy really so far was that it makes spending money on good food seem like a complete waste. But last Friday we were able to put our eyes on Baby (via the magic of ultrasound technology) and when I heard the strong sound of Baby's heartbeat fill that little imaging room... my heart soared.

Baby's doing alright.

We're pretty much ridiculously excited. We've been talking all about what we'll be like (and don't want to be like) as parents and I've already filled an entire shelf in the office with good first-books for Baby (girl or boy, Colin wants a little athlete - but I want a reader!). But, regardless of who Baby turns out to be, we are both agreed on one thing - Baby is the new focus of our family.

So now that the news is out - I'll do my best to be back on the blog. And I'll try to keep the baby-blogging to a not-quite-all-consuming level, but I trust you'll forgive me if, at times, I fail.

Bang Goes That Theory

From what I had seen of gluten-free baking up to today, it looked to me as if every recipe was going to be unimaginably complicated with long lists of expensive ingredients. In my mind, gluten-free baking seemed a mighty undertaking, only to be pursued when I felt completely ready to use every fancy kitchen gadget, and dirty every dish, I own.

So, of course, I started craving baked goods.

Cookies, cupcakes, cakes. Over the past week I have been unable to stop salivating at the thought of every last gluten-filled morsel. And the idea of trying to bake a homemade gluten-free version in my half-packed, torn up, mid-move house was just an immovable mountain.

Until today.

My mother (my gluten-free guru) forwarded me a cookie recipe from my cousin, Jessica. A recipe with three, simple, readily-available-in-my-ransacked-kitchen ingredients. A recipe that made warm, sugary cookies and filled my crazy house with a wonderful smell.

And on top of all that, peanut butter - my favorite.

I can see I'm going to have to continue to rethink and refocus myself around this gluten-free thing for a while. It's just going to take time to wrap my head around the fact that it doesn't mean I can never have anything tasty again (quite the contrary) and it doesn't mean that everything is harder (just no longer mindless).

In short - I need to quite my bellyaching about gluten this and gluten that and get on with life!

And make more cookies!

Fears

And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
-TS Eliot, The Waste Land

Part of this quote appeared last night on an episode of Bones and it got me thinking. (I know, right? Inspiration from TV? Forgive. But this will give you some insight into the wacky mental leaps I make during prime time TV.) It made me wonder – what do we truly fear? What do I fear?

I think it’s a harder question than we probably allow for. We think fear as an emotion, and certainly its source, is easy to determine. But I think that’s probably oversimplifying something that is actually very complicated.

I’m a notorious fraidy-cat. I don’t like amusement rides, flying, or heights. But I’m not afraid of the possibility of death through those things – which I’m sure is what a lot of people might assume. I’m afraid of pain (and my potential inability to handle it), and even moreso of disability. I fear being unable to walk on the beach with my family, or use my arms to hold my husband or use my eyes to watch my nephews grow or my mouth to experience and appreciate all the food there is to fill my tummy with. The human body to me seems a fragile thing and it is not lost on me how lucky I am to be whole and fully functioning. And I worry about losing that blessing.

I also fear loss. I love the people in my life with a strength of emotion that leaves me paralyzed at the thought of the loss of any one of them. I can bring myself to hysterical tears just with the thought (to be embarrassingly honest). I am the same way with my pets – it has been just a month since we lost Daly but I still dissolve into sorrow when I think of him the same as I did the day he didn’t wake up.

And I fear the exact intent behind the quote above. Obsolescence. Lack of impact. Passing out of this world without leaving either mark or memory. And really, who doesn’t fear that? Who doesn’t fear that tomorrow we might be gone and no one, not a single soul, would feel our absence?

How could that idea not be terrifying?

Life is tough. It can be beautiful and fun and deliciously complicated but it is tough. Hard on the heart. Who wants to think that we have gone through all that we have each gone through for nothing?

I am quite sure that doesn’t apply to most of us (we all have our parents, right?). But it is something to consider as you go through your life. What are you afraid of? How does it hinder or drive you? And what can you do to ensure those fears do not become realities?

Even if it springs from a TV show, I think, it’s still a pretty important train of thought. Something to consider. Our fears can drive us, if we aren’t careful. Do what you can to make sure that such is not the case for you.

Success. In a Sandwich.

Last night, I succeeded in making my gluten-free bread. There were a few minor mishaps (you’re probably supposed to actually add the yeast, you know, when the recipe says to add the yeast and not when you see it still on the counter and go ‘oh crap!’) and even a couple of phone calls to Mom (when it says flour the pans, which flour? I have 8 to choose from!). But when the house filled with the smell of warm, yeasty bread and I opened the oven to peek at those two golden loaves – I didn’t care about any of the trouble.

I had bread.

It helped me realize something. I now understand the crux of the gluten-free lifestyle. It isn’t the actual act of eating gluten-free (though that is an obvious part of it). It isn’t knowing your way around the specialty aisles and expensive food stores. It isn’t even knowing what is and isn’t gluten-free (Google is great for that).

It is actually far more simple than any of those far more obvious things. It’s just effort.

The great difficulty with the gluten-free lifestyle is that it isn’t easy. You can’t mindlessly pick whatever sounds tasty from any restaurant menu and then wolf it down (man do I miss that). You can’t just walk into any grocery store and grab the closest box of spaghetti and run home with it. You can’t even just pick any recipe you want out of any cookbook you want and follow the simple instructions.

Most of the recipes don’t have anything even close to simple instructions.

But if I can train myself to put forth the effort – to make gluten-free bread when I really want it, to learn the ins and outs of the gluten-free flours, then really, being gluten-free doesn’t seem like it will really be that bad. I like the bread I made. It’s slightly different, but not as much as I had expected. And when you put peanut butter and jelly on it, it isn’t different enough for me to care.

It’s just about rolling up my sleeves and making myself alternatives to the ‘glutenized’ versions of the foods I miss. It’s about putting in the effort.

I can see that I’m going to have to learn all sorts of things to make this lifestyle work for me. I’m going to have to learn what is and what is not gluten-free (and remember it when it matters). I’m going to have to learn that it really is okay to ask for a gluten-free menu or safe suggestions at a restaurant if I don’t know what I can order. I’m going to have to learn how to make bread without getting flour all over every surface in the kitchen and the cat (so says my husband).

But first and foremost, I’m going to have to learn how to motivate myself to put forth the effort it takes to do this right. To make steamy loaves of bread to slather with honey and stuff with yummy fillings and eat just to know that I can, indeed, eat bread.

What I've realized is, it's not about what I cannot have as part of a gluten-free lifestyle. It's about what I can DO.

I miss bread.

I know it doesn't look like much, just a tupperware container of flour. But it was hard won. (Do you SEE the amount of flour on the toaster?!?)

This evening I started the process of making my first loaves of gluten free bread. I only got so far as the flour mix, which actually led to my first opportunity to use the food processor I bought on super-sale earlier this year. The food processor bit went well; it wasn't until I put the different flours in a bowl and tried that ever-so-complicated trick of stirring, you know, with a spoon that I got it all over the counter, the toaster and myself.

I'm pretty sure there's flour on Olivia as well.

Seeing as it is already after 9:00, I now have a kitchen to clean and I wanted to go to bed early I am going to put off the rest of the baking until tomorrow. But I am excited. Thrilled. Drooling already.

I miss bread you see. I recently decided that going gluten free (following the example of several women already in my family), might help me clear up some nagging gastrointestinal issues that my doctor's suggestion was to 'live with'. And so far it's been okay. Except bread.

I have always loved bread. Rolls. Big crusty french loaves. Pastries. Bagels. Any and all forms of bread. Stuffed full of warm meat and a thin swipe of spicy mustard. Or cold cuts and an all-too-generous layer of rich mayo. Or just a touch warm with a small bit of butter and dripping with sweet honey.

Sigh.

I miss it. And even though I know that gluten free bread won't be the 'same', I don't care. A substitute will still be lovely.

So tonight I pulled out all of the flours that my dear husband brought me from the specialty food store and the food processor and a large bowl and mixed together the flour mix. I hope tomorrow to be able to pop out two full-grown loaves of warm bread and make a sandwich. I'm not the best in the kitchen but... I certainly hope I can figure this out.

I'll let you know what happens.