Blog a la Cart

Category: Musings

August 28

A year ago, we made the decision to bid farewell to our beloved Ursa. It was the hardest decision that James and I have ever made as a couple, and yet, simultaneously the easiest, as it was clear that our sweet Ursa needed relief. It was time to say goodbye. The following day, the vet came to our home and helped us give her the rest that she so deserved.

I have thought of her every day since her passing. 365 memories have danced through my head as I ache from her absence and remember the love and comfort that she brought to my life. While I am no longer paralyzed by the grief of her death, I miss her. I miss her so much that I can still feel the throbbing in my chest when she comes to the fore of my thoughts. I dream of her and Gladdy romping through the fields together. And while, logically, I know that those two creatures would never have co-existed, Gladden would not be a part of our family if Ursa were still with us, I can’t help but conjure these images of those I love together in the same space.

Sunny still talks about her and visits her grave. She reads her “Ursa books,” the books that we gave to her when Ursa was first diagnosed with cancer to help her understand sickness and death and life cycles. She drew me a picture of Ursa at camp this week, and I hadn’t even mentioned that it was the one year anniversary of her death. Ursa is present with all of us, however subconsciously.

And as I focus on this loss and reflect on a summer that was filled with devastation and loss and pain and fear, I am reminded of how fortunate I am to have made it through those darker days to now, a summer that has been filled with light and laughter and opportunity and magic and so very many happy memories. I should never take that kind of contentment and ease for granted. This summer has been a wonder, made all the more sweet remembering what we faced to make it to today.

But August 28th is not just the day that I made the decision to part with my Ursa and learned to say goodbye and let go, it is now the day that I sent my oldest child off to Kindergarten. The day that I was forced to loosen the reigns, however slightly, as she took one of many steps toward her own independence.

Today, my baby started Kindergarten.

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August 28th has taught me many things. Above all, strength.

BG 1 // 2014

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Some pictures of our first trip of 2014 to the Poconos, a place near and dear to James’ heart. Lazy days by the lake are a favorite.

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^^A moody, misty morning spent teaching Gladdy to swim.^^

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^^We dropped Sunny off at Junior Club (the club’s summer camp for children age 5-12), and while the above photo may suggest otherwise, she did indeed enjoy herself. In fact, she’ll spend a week or two with just Ghillie and Ranger later this summer so that she can go to camp full time, she enjoyed it so much. But, mornings are hard. And she is her mother’s daughter.^^

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^^James and I enjoyed some one-on-one time with our youngest while Sunny was at camp. Courtland desperately wanted to be a lily pad. And the beauty of that desire nearly split my heart in two.^^

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^^ On Saturday morning, Sunny participated in the 4th of July track meet. And she hated the potato sack race…^^

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^^ I mean, really loathed everything about it…^^

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^^Honestly.^^

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^^But she sure did love winning a ribbon for her slow but steady approach to the egg race.^^

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^^On Saturday night, we dressed in our twirliest of dresses (and blazers?) and enjoyed a night of dancing and fun. And we couldn’t resist the opportunity to nab a few family portraits. We’re looking forward to many more BG adventures later this summer.^^

Magicsuit // 3

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I want to start this week by thanking everyone that has commented and responded to these posts (first week, second week). Your thoughts have been honest and reflective and supportive and lovely and just plain awesome. I am so grateful to each of you. We’re in this together, sisters! And it is heartwarming and inspiring to be reminded that we are all fighting this body/beauty battle together. And to know that we are not alone in whatever struggles or uncertainties or doubts we may confront when it comes to our own self-image.

With that being said, I want to talk about one of my biggest gripes when it comes to how we speak to other women.

Why is it that when someone tells someone else, “Hey, you’ve lost weight!” the response is “Yes, thank you”? Why is weight loss considered a compliment? And further, why do we feel that it is appropriate in any capacity to comment on someone else’s body shape or size in the first place?

I remember a very well-meaning friend commenting on how slim I was looking last summer and congratulating me on this thinness. Again, as though thinness was A. worthy of congratulations and compliment and B. as though I was actively striving for that thinness and thus approval. To be honest, I’d lost weight because of all the anxiety I was experiencing in the wake of my mother’s medical emergency; an event so traumatic that I was not sleeping, not eating, and stewing in nerves and fear. So um, not exactly a welcome weight-loss or a sign of health. In fact, a sign of just the opposite. I was feeling pretty bad so I read the Askhealthnews and I found the solution.

We don’t know the cause for someone’s change in size, and by commenting on it, we are further reinforcing this notion that beauty is directly tied to slimness (regardless of whether or not that size is attained in a healthful manner. Trust me, I’d need to exist on a 800 calorie diet to be a size 4, and that shit is straight up starvation.) Size does NOT equal health. Further, size does not equal beauty. And by commenting and complimenting women so frequently on their bodies and their size, we are further enforcing the idea that a woman’s worth is defined by physicality and adherence to specific cultural beauty standards rather than who she is as a person, a whole complete being with thoughts and emotions and a unique body and life story.

If you haven’t read this article that I shared earlier this week, please please do so now as it approaches this issue even more thoughtfully, specifically related to women’s bodies post-partum: Babies Don’t ‘Ruin’ Bodies.

And while I stand by my love of Miraclesuit, I can’t in good conscience ignore their tagline “Look 10 lbs Lighter in 10 Seconds.” While I understand from a marketing perspective (as sadly women will gravitate to businesses claiming thinness as that is the ever-constant demand), it further reinforces the very issues I discuss above. Why is it that women should want to look 10 lbs lighter in 10 seconds? Why is less weight so desirable? As women, we are perpetually told to take up as little space as possible, to be as small and non-threatening and thin as possible in order to be valued and beautiful. I am calling B.S. on that noise.

I love Miraclesuit not because it makes me look “slimmer” but because it is constructed thoughtfully, with a woman’s curves and need for support in mind. While I wish they didn’t use a tagline about weight as their primary focus, I fell in love with the suits before I’d ever read the tagline, by trying on dozens of bathingsuits and physically feeling the difference that Miraclesuit made when on my body.

The suit I’m pictured in this week, the Colorblock Jerry, has a built in underwire to provide much needed support but is layered under stylish draping that provides interest and movement. I wear it lazily around the house for hot afternoons spent playing with my girls, working in the garden, and enjoying a summer evening.

Because at the end of the day, I want to feel confident and comfortable in a bathing suit, and I especially want my daughters to feel that ease and comfort radiating from me so that they learn to celebrate their own unique-selves in whatever way makes them feel most at ease and comfortable.

Let’s all be kinder and gentler not only to ourselves, but to the women around us. Be mindful when you find yourself about to comment on someone’s body or size. Why are you inclined to make that comment? What does it accomplish? And is there something more meaningful or more valuable that you could offer than just a throwaway remark about their physical self. And especially be careful of critiquing or judging another woman’s body (other people period, but specifically their physical bodies) as you’re likely reinforcing very problematic, narrow expectations of beauty and health by doing so.

The greatest compliment I’ve ever received had nothing to do with my physical appearance, but had to do with the way my then-boss saw me inspiring and empowering my female students. His words, “You’re a role model for these women. Your mother should be very proud,” linger in my head today as raise two daughters and navigate these expectations, demands and pressures. Why not empower another woman by championing her smarts, her wit, her thoughtfulness rather than the size of her pants? It could start a revolution of confident, strong women… you never know…

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This is your final opportunity to win a Miraclesuit or Magicsuit of your choosing. That’s a winning of up to $180! To enter this week’s giveaway follow the instructions below via Rafflecopter. Thank you for entering and for liking Blog a la Cart and Magicsuit on Facebook and for following @blogalacart and @magicsuitswim on Instagram.

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TBT // 1

One year ago…

So what I’m saying is – those bows are a metaphor.

Two years ago…

Him: Speaking of poops, you should have seen the coil she dropped in the woods yesterday.

Me: The coil she dropped? I… I don’t even know what to say about that phrase…

Him: Clearly, you did not grow up shitting in the woods with a bunch of boys.

Me: Dude, I went five days sans movement on my WOOLF trip (our outdoor orientation program during college). THAT’s how terrified I am of pooping in the woods.

Him: I’m going to glaze over how wildly unhealthy that is… It’s my mission that the girls know how to boldly poop in the woods. Sunny was a champion on Friday. I held her arms, she popped a squat, and built her mound.

Three years ago… 

For now, I’m relishing looking at all the photos of the Sesame Seed squirming and kicking and growing inside me. Sunny has been more engaged than ever with my belly and kisses the baby good morning and says, “Hi, Baby!” It’s unclear how much of this she understands, but she gets much joy in trying to feel her baby sister kick and in enthusiastically proclaiming that she is a “Big Sister!”

Four years ago…

Rather, be careful what you wish for or the Universe will bestow upon you a sick, snotty, flem-filled ball of baby misery that will moan, and wake in fitful congested distress every single hour of your supposed day of rest. The upside of this coughing, sneezing mucus-rag is that the only place that she will find solace is curled up on your chest

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My own version of “Throwback Thursday” (#tbt), a chance for me to weep about the onslaught of time and review the varied stages of my life that I’ve chronicled here.

Key Largo // 2014

I’m starting backward by sharing a glimpse at our time in the Keys at James’ parents’ Florida home. We try to visit once a winter (see past trips here, here and here). You’ll see there are some very common themes from year to year. Namely: swimming, ice cream cones, golf carts, fish, pools, air boat rides, alligators, smoothies and bathing suits.

New experiences this year included paddle boating next to Malia and Sasha Obama and their merry band of Secret Service agents (alas, no pictures to prove it). The Obamas were vacationing at the same time and place as us Carts, and while I never saw Michelle or Barack, I was pretty dang excited to have Malia walk by us on the dock and place her hands gently on Courtland’s shoulders to move her aside so she could make it past us without knocking the toddler into the water.

Yeah, I may have started whisper-squealing to the girls who had ZERO idea what was going on. One day I’ll explain the time that we shared an artificial body of water with the First Daughters in big plastic boats.

James and I even snuck in a fancy-pants date night thanks to James’ parents. As James declared 20 minutes in to dinner, “It’s so weird to be able to eat my food at a normal pace. And not have to cajole and shovel bites into another person’s face. Can I feed you a mouthful of your meal to feel more at home?”

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Needless to say, it was a very relaxing couple days in warm weather and sun.

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Juicing

Her: Wow, you look amazing.
Me: Well, the last time you saw me I was 4 months post-partum, and my maternity leave had just ended. I’m definitely less delirious and sleep-deprived than I was then.
Her: It’s more than that, you’re really radiant.
Me: Well, thank you! 
blahblahblah…howsthefamily…blahblahblah…theweather…blahblahblah…smalltalk…blahblah…work….
Her (owner of a number of amazing restaurants in Saratoga Springs, NY): The restaurants are doing wonderfully. We just opened a juice bar right on Broadway.
Me: How fantastic. You know, I’m in the middle of a five day juice cleanse. 
Her: Well THAT explains that glowy radiance!

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I don’t know if everyone would say that I’m farting rainbows and sunshine right now, but I’m more than happy to take the compliment. And, admittedly, I’m FEELING like a ray of sunshine (I know, Gag! Groan! Eye Roll! (but it’s the truth)) and I think that that is ultimately why I am writing this post.

I’m on day five of a five day juice cleanse with the best weight loss pills as a complement.

And I feel incredible.

The fact that I am sitting in my office, fully showered, dressed, fed (er, juiced) and am in the midst of a blog post before 7:30am speaks volumes. I even got the most coveted parking spot for the building. A first in four years! Huzzah!

James and I decided to do a juice cleanse this week as we were in a sluggish, cheese and bread induced winter coma. The bloat, the tiredness, the flatulence!, the lethargy that comes from surviving a crazy cold winter with comfort foods and a daily habit of bread baking, while delicious and wonderful in many respects, was taking its toll. It’s not that we weren’t eating all the other food groups, it’s just that bread and cheese were the overwhelming majority. And we were feeling the physical impact.

I hesitated to write about it because I know that I find diet and exercise posts self-indulgent and lame and often very misguided. But this was a really worthwhile experience, and given that there are so many fad “juice cleanses” on the Interwebs, I wanted to write about our experience in the hopes of providing another (far more affordable) avenue for those considering a cleanse.

We worked with a local nutritionist (who is available to anyone – we actually never even met in person) for a whooping $5 per person and made all the juices ourselves, in our own kitchen, with our own ingredients. I really can’t advocate enough for that kind of hands on control. It was a way to really understand exactly what we were putting into our body for those five days, and I liked being able to still prepare daily meals, even if they were all being blended together into a mush. Especially since the girls were witnessing this cleanse (we were obviously still preparing full meals for them), I wanted them to see that James and I were still “eating” real food. And, the goal is to never feel hungry. If you’re hungry, you make another smoothie. This was by no means an exercise in starvation.

Renee, the nutritionist, emailed a list of smoothie/juice recipes on Sunday evening and we filled our fridge with the resulting abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables that we’d need for the week. We prepared all of the meals in a blender (not juicer) to be sure to reap all the nutritional benefits. I drank lots of herbal tea throughout, and heavily utilized my “Citrus Zinger” water bottle that Kimmy gifted me this Christmas (an easy way to infuse fresh citrus into your daily water).  We’d receive a daily email with new recipes, encouragement, and a description of what we might be experiencing on that given day as a result of the cleanse.

Day 1 and 2 were (as expected) the hardest. In the evenings I was headachy and James was irritable. But we powered through, and by Wednesday, I was feeling great. Energized. Alert. Clean. By Thursday, I wasn’t craving solid food as I had earlier in the week, and found it very easy to get through the day. We did very mild “exercise” (think: leisurely walks) with the exception of my TRX class today, as I didn’t want to derail my body from the cleanse. The hardest part of the cleanse in my opinion was meal planning and “packing” drinks for the office or getting home during the work day to make a fresh drink. I also really missed the communal nature of eating with friends and loved ones.

Someone asked if I was stepping on the scale at all during the cleanse, and while many people use juice cleanses as a weight loss mechanism, that was never my goal. I also think scales (used as a stand alone) are a pretty poor measure of health and wellness. I weighed more than I had in years (pregnancy an exception) at the height of my half marathon training – I was needing to eat like crazy to keep up the training and I had far more muscle mass than I had previously. My weight gain was a sign of strength and fitness. If you want to achieve this nowadays, use the next link to buy phenq online.

And while I am certain I “lost weight” during this five days merely based on my constant runs to the bathroom to urinate  (it was like pregnancy redux) – I’d wager that it was predominately water weight, and not a weight loss that will be sustained once I begin eating solid foods and a more well rounded diet also when people want to reduce their diet even more they can use appetite suppressants for this, visit this site to find more. While the juices are clean and nutritious, they lack the necessary fats and carbohydrates and protein that one needs for long term wellness.

But I am so glad that James and I went through this experience together. I’ve been inspired to begin my days with more green, leafy vegetables for the way  that they make my body feel alive and awake. I’ve been reminded that my body doesn’t need large portions to feel full and satisfied and fueled if I’m feeding it nutrient-rich food. Since we’re headed into a 10 day vacation, these lessons will be a wonderful reminder during a time that we might otherwise forgo balanced meals and taking care of our bodies.

If you’re interested in giving a juice cleanse a try, I recommend that you connect with Renee from Eat To Total Health. Now that I’m on the other side of the five days, I definitely recommend the experience.

Have you ever done a juice cleanse? How’d it make you feel? Or, if you haven’t, would you ever consider doing one? I’d love to hear your stories!

LasseMaja Do Vermont: The Winter Edition

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We had so much fun with these two. July can’t get here soon enough! (We’re headed to Sweden to watch them get hitched! Skål!)

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Jiminy Peak

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While Maja and Lars were stateside, we spent an afternoon at our local ski resort. I hadn’t been skiing since I was pregnant with Courtland (3 years ago!), and was so happy to get back on the mountain. I grew up skiing, and then served as ski patrol for this very mountain, Jiminy Peak, while in college. While parenting young children has cut into our ability to go with more frequency, I’m looking forward to next winter when we’ll teach both girls the fun of alpine skiing.

I’m grateful that it is truly like riding a bike, and within one run down I was feeling like no time had passed since the last time my feet were holstered in the torture chambers known as ski boots. Despite the discomfort in my feet and my chilled extremities, I was so energized by that cold, fresh air. By the way it filled my lungs and breathed happiness and excitement and fun and gratitude into my body. So rarely as adults do we get that kind of physical exertion and carefree physical play. Time at the gym or even a walk, run, or exercise class just isn’t the same kind of rejuvenation.

It was a good good day.

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^^Playing hooky from parenting and work in the name of selfies and skiing sure does a marriage good.^^

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^^And, my favorite, Après-ski! Hot chocolate and burgers and beer and sweaty, crazy hair.^^

Apologies for the iPhone pix, but there was no way that the dSLR was hitting the slopes!

Weekends

My eyes lazily and begrudgingly open to a silhouette of spiky, tousled hair and fuzzy appendages. I register the presence of a toddler armed with Care Bears, a blanket, and a baby doll as my body registers a continued state of exhaustion.

Climb on in. 

I reach for my phone, the bright display illuminating the room, causing our dilated pupils to recoil.

Ouch.

6:17 a.m.

Double ouch.

I should still be sleeping. YOU should still be sleeping.

But I pull her in close.

Perhaps we’ll snuggle together and drift back to sleep peacefully for another hour or two…

My eyes close… then WHACK! An elbow meets my nose. THUD! A knee lodges into my gut.

Or not…

As I duck and dodge assault from an awakening toddler, whines crawl up the stairwell.

Fine! I’m up! We’re up! 

I throw off the covers and am struck instantly by the unappealing chill of the morning air.

We should probably admit defeat and program our heat to turn on at the same time seven days a week, but we hold out a kernel of hope that we might not be awakened until the 8s on a Saturday or Sunday. Our thermostat the symbol of our eternal optimism, of a former life when the weekends represented a time of sleeping in and leisure mornings, of lazy days and reading or cooking or shopping or movie watching or dating or *name enjoyable adult activity* at will.

I combat frustration. Exhaustion. Stir craziness. My propensity to yell and temper. The weekends are far more challenging than the work week. Another unexpected twist of parenting. One of many.

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Brunch begins at 9am, as naptime would intervene with a more civilized start of 11. We still visit. And eat. And connect over cups of steaming coffee. But the coffee is now a necessity not a luxury. And conversation is punctuated by diaper changes and breastfeeding, potty runs and coloring.

This is the new normal. The new weekend. We adjust expectations and welcome the perspective of this growing gaggle of girls.

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The Start of the Year

I’m sitting at the top of our stairwell, thumbing through my Facebook feed, reading post after post about the start of the year. Excitement! Joy! Watch out 2014! Can’t wait to see what you have in store!

I scoff incredulously at this virtual feed of connection.

Well I know what’s in store. This. More of this.  

Screams emanate from either side of the stairwell. Cranky, disgruntled children and their rage against the bedtime hour and their parents’ attempts at routine and schedule.

I’m sitting and scrolling and willing them to give up. Please please stop. I feel the frustration welling in my chest. Please stop so I don’t scream back. I know that I’m supposed to be the grown up, but all I want to do is scream and stomp and pound in reply.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this facade of adulthood.

I hate this part of parenting. The battle of wills. The efforts at civilization. If only I could let them be the wild, undisciplined, impolite creatures they crave.

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I retreat downstairs for reserves of vanilla ice cream and hot fudge, this sugary break momentarily staving off my own resentment.

I breeze past James muttering, How is this our life? over the moans still emanating from above.

Do you want me to tag in?

No, it’s fine. You have work to do.

I sullenly slog back up the stairs and am hit by the smell of feces wafting out of the bathroom. A reminder of the toddler accident I’d cleaned up hours before, the aftermath still soiling our home.

The screams turn to whimpers, and I finally duck into Sunny’s bedroom and sit down by her side.

Thank you for settling down. Now you may have a glass of water. Next time, please ask nicely and don’t yell.

Okay, Mommy. I’m sorry I yelled. You know, it’s hard being a kid. Sometimes we forget the rules. Sometimes I wish I were the parent so that I could make the rules. 

It’s hard being a grown up, too. Enjoy being a kid as long as you can. You have plenty of time to be a grown up.

Okay… I love you, Mommy.

Love you too, baby.

I head down the hallway to Courtland. She tackles me in a bear hug.

Rub my hair. Please! A regular demand for a fusion of the back rub/hair play/snuggle trifecta

Yes, okay. Thank you for asking so nicely. No more crying though, okay? It’s time to sleep.

O-tay.

The house lulls to a quiet hum. The frantic screaming turns to lazy breathing.

I’m wrapped in the arms of my child and all that anger and frustration leave my body through the warmth of those tiny fingers and toes.

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Yes, I know what the year has in store. This. More of this.