Freezer Meal Prepping

With our first baby arriving soon, I’ve been doing anything and everything to prepare us and our household to be a hot mess. I’ve received a lot of advice on things to do before a baby arrives but one that I knew for sure I wanted to do was meal prep. Some things have come up through my pregnancy that have limited how much I can do. One of the first things to go when I’m not feeling well is cooking. I’m admittedly a control freak so this has been a tough thing to let slide. My husband is a champ and does his best to cook or pick up dinner when I’m simply not up to it. Unfortunately, this often leads to us not eating the healthiest of meals.

My goal is to breastfeed and all I’ve read and heard is that I will have a ravenous appetite trying to keep up with all those feedings. I’ve enjoyed being pregnant but I am very much looking forward to a time when I can get back to working out, eating right and beginning to lose this baby weight. I’d like to make sure that, as often as possible, I am eating home-cooked, healthy and hearty meals. The following meals are my way of trying to set myself up for success. Let’s be honest, those first few weeks it will be more like setting myself up for survival.

I searched through several different websites as well as my own collection of recipes to find a variety of meals that hopefully we won’t get sick of. Some of the recipes were found through Pinterest but I found I modified everything in some way or another. I should preface by saying that, of these six recipes, I’ve only made and enjoyed three of them so far. The others are new to me and are currently in my freezer waiting to be defrosted. Continue at your own risk! Three of these meals can be made with a crockpot and three are ready to be tossed in the oven. I mixed things up so we aren’t eating the same old chicken every night. Though I could eat the same thing night after night if it was already made for me, my husband does not do well with repeating meals.

Click each link below for a printable PDF version of the recipe:

Crockpot Beef Stew

 Crockpot Tomato Basil Chicken

Crockpot Pulled Bourbon Chicken

Baked Sausage Casserole

Baked Vegetable Ziti

Potato Chicken Bake

Crockpot Beef Stew

Crockpot Tomato Basil Chicken

Crockpot Bourbon Chicken

Sausage Casserole

 

I hope these recipes are helpful to you in your meal planning. Please feel free to share any feedback about how your meals turned out. Pictures are always great to see.

Happy prepping!

If only we had a bigger freezer!! What’s your favorite meal to prepare and freeze for later?

 

Eight things you don’t do if you’ve ever waited tables

I worked in the hospitality or service industry for years. I started bussing tables at age 14 and have been in some sort of customer service position ever since. I’ve been a server, hostess, bartender, expo and manager in restaurants from Massachusetts to South Carolina. Something my co-workers and I could always agree on, no matter what part of the country we were in is that people should have to take a class early on in school to teach them how to properly behave in a restaurant or bar. Though I could write a lengthy syllabus and teach a full semester-long course, I haven’t yet found a school looking to add this to their curriculum. If you hear of one, let me know! Until then, here is a little appetizer for you to enjoy…

8 Things you don’t do if you’ve ever waited tables:

1. Tip less than 20% Even if service isn’t out of this world, you know you still tip 20% because you get it. You know that 9 times out of 10 it is not the server’s fault. That 10th time you give them the benefit of the doubt that they’re just having a bad day. I’d rather tip 20% and let the manager know if something could have been better than stiff the server. Remember folks, most servers don’t make even minimum wage. The tips they make pays their rent, tuition, childcare, etc. Tipping is customary when dining out so just do the right thing.
2. Assume that your server is stupid or their job is easy  Unless you’ve done it, you don’t have a clue what it is like. If your server forgot something or made a mistake, don’t jump down their throat. That mistake could have been the fault of the kitchen, the bartender or the host who just triple sat your server. Customer service is NOT a walk in the park. It takes intelligence, people skills, patience, multi-tasking skills, thick skin and a great memory. Many servers are working to pay their way through college or grad school. Some are so fantastic at what they do, it is their career. Respect that until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.
3. Call your server hun, sweetie, babe, chief, buddy or sport. Do I need to elaborate on this one?
4. Interrupt your server while they are helping another guest to call or wave them over to your table. Wait your turn…and grow up. You’re not the only table in the restaurant (hopefully). Be respectful of everyone and allow your server time to help others.
5. Ask for a drink after your server has just come by to replenish the drink of the other five people at your table. Anticipate and ask for everything all at once. Saving your server that extra trip is going insure you and their other tables better service. This rule applies for napkins, sides, condiments, etc.
6. Start a sentence with, “I hate to be a pain BUT” or “I don’t usually complain BUT” When you make either of those statements your server sees a red flag and knows that yes, you do tend to complain and yes, you usually are a pain. If either of those statements is followed by you telling your server you didn’t like something about your meal at the END of the meal, when they can do nothing to correct it, you are the worst. Don’t expect a server to discount your check or remove an item from your bill if they checked on you three times and you said nothing.
7. Order something that is not on the regular menu or modify something on the menu beyond the point of recognition then complain when it takes too long or isn’t that great. It probably isn’t on the menu because it doesn’t taste great or it isn’t something the chef typically prepares and if it is taking a while it is because they are custom creating YOU your own dish. This goes for well done burgers and steaks and other dishes made to order.
8. Take it out on your server when your drink is too weak or your steak is overcooked. Look around, your server is waiting tables not tending bar and cooking too. Don’t shoot the messenger. I promise you that server is getting heat from the bar and kitchen staff on top of your complaints. They will do their best to make things right because their tip, not anyone else’s depends on it. Don’t punish a server for something beyond their control. If something is so awful, speak with a manager.

Lastly, remember that working in a restaurant is very different from an office or most other work environments. People in the hospitality industry don’t get sick days, vacation days or personal days. If they are unable to get a shift covered they come to work when they feel like hell, they may come to work after visiting a family member in the hospital and they come to work when the rest of their family is enjoying a holiday dinner at home together. If they do manage to get their shift covered because of a hardship going on in their life, remember they don’t get paid for that. Yes, that’s part of the job and yes, people know that when they decide to do what they do. Have some human decency and respect and recognize that still doesn’t make it easy. Oh, and for God’s sake, always say PLEASE and THANK YOU.

Feel free to share more!

Work Made Easy

 

With a baby on the way, I’ve been in full on nesting mode for months. I’ve been trying to make room for baby by getting us back to basics in different parts of our home. The biggest part of this has been converting our office space into a nursery. We had a great desk in there that had to be moved out but it did not “fit” anywhere else in our house. My solution, after selling the current desk, was building myself a simple desk with lots of storage that would look great in the one area we have space…our living/dining room.

Most of our major purchases these days are devoted to baby or health so buying a new desk was not an option for us. Instead, my husband once again shuttered when I stated, “I’ll build us one.” Little did he know how loosely I was using the term “build”. In this tutorial you’ll see how I simply pieced together a super functional workspace. Our biggest priorities were a large work surface and lots of storage.

Work Surface. We both wanted something with a good amount of space so that we could

Bonus: Using an old door as your desktop means you have a built in spot through which you can run all your power cords to an outlet or floor power strip.

house lots of office supplies and devices including a printer. Lucky for me, my mom recently decided to replace the interior doors in her home and the old ones were up for grabs. Immediately I realized I had my large work surface…for FREE! If you don’t stumble upon a free door, you can also look at yard sales, Habitat for Humanity Restore or Goodwill locations for anywhere between $5 and $20. Normally I would have painted this door to lighten up the color but once I got it in my house, I liked that it matched our hardwood floors. I also considered the fumes I wouldn’t have to inhale and that my husband loves dark woods. It’ll get lightened up once we move to a new home. The only thing I did to this door was clean it with a wood cleaner, then I did a quick coat of gold spray paint on the trim to make it look a little more cohesive with the rest of the project.

 

Storage. Storage is hard to come by in our little rental ranch home so we love it wherever we can get it. A friend of my sister was getting rid of some small file cabinets from her office so $20 later I had two functional file cabinets for my base. These weren’t pretty but it was nothing spray paint couldn’t fix. Note: a week later I saw nearly identical file cabinets at my local Habitat for Humanity Restore for $5 each. Always check these places out!

These cabinets needed a good scrub before I started painting so I used an all-purpose cleaner and a brillo pad. The scratches left behind by the brillo pad helped my primer to adhere even better. I sprayed one quick thin coat of gray primer to create a tacky surface. I then removed the hardware from the front of each cabinet before starting the paint process.  I was lucky to have all of my painting supplies handy from previous projects but each can will run you between $4 and $8. This project didn’t use a full can of any color so you can plan to have leftovers for your next crafting experiment.

I followed up with two coats of metallic silver spray paint. Between coats, I sprayed my hardware with a contrasting metallic gold spray paint.

After everything was dry I placed the hardware back on and let my husband take it from there. We did some rearranging and found a perfect spot to put together our new “desk”.

The desk has since taken on much more clutter, of course; the downside to ample amounts of space! We have been more than pleased with the simplicity of this look and this project. you also can’t beat a $20 project like this. Even if you don’t stumble upon any freebies or have any of the supplies on hand, this “a-door-able” look can easily be accomplished on a budget of $50 or less.

Have you recently created a unique workspace in your home or office?

Why it’s not ok to call me fat.

You’ll notice there is no asterisk in that title that notes *unless I’m pregnant. For most people it is common sense that they should not call anyone else fat, especially to their face. Once again, I’ve observed that there seems to be a whole different set of rules that people follow when encountering a pregnant woman. Because saying “it is not ok to tell a pregnant woman she is fat” clearly is not clear enough for some people, I feel compelled to be more specific. The following are ways in which you should NOT tell a pregnant woman she is fat.

BIG. Seems like an innocent enough three letter word. Great for describing a ship, a hit song, a fish swimming in a small pond and also, a classic Tom Hanks movie! So what could be wrong with the word BIG? Using it to talk about someone’s appearance. Most of you would not approach friends at a happy hour and greet them by saying “Wow, you’ve gotten so big!” Why not? Because that’s offensive and you would quickly have no one joining you for happy hour. Really, I find it no less offensive when it is said to a woman who happens to be growing a human inside of her. In fact, knowing that there is a small human inside her making her hormones rage, disturbing her sleep, hindering her ability to breath and much more, I’d sooner insult a known felon.

I am obviously speaking from my own perspective as a first time preggo and know that not all women feel the same way. I know there are women who struggle to gain weight during pregnancy and therefore have a set of insecurities all their own. My motto with so many things in life is “when in doubt, know the power of saying nothing.” If you’re not sure what to say to a pregnant woman, say NOTHING. It will really be ok. Believe it or not, it is not a written or unwritten law that you must talk to a pregnant woman about her pregnancy or appearance. If you can’t help yourself, say congratulations and move on.

DON’T guess how far along she is or how many babies YOU think she is carrying. I read advice early on in my pregnancy that said to lie to strangers saying you are further along than you are. I didn’t realize at the time what sound advice that is.  The checkout line has rapidly become my most dreaded place during my pregnancy because I’m trapped in line like a (BIG) sitting duck with a cashier who passes the time by talking to me about how I look. Doesn’t that just sound like everyone’s dream come true? Who goes to Target dressed to the nines with hair and makeup done? Pretty much no one. So imagine if you were checking out and cashier lady took it upon herself to comment on how your yoga pants look with your messy bun. I bet more than half of you would think about telling her supervisor she needs to shut the hell up. But if you’re pregnant, you smile and count the seconds until your card is authorized and you can escape this lady’s ‘compliments.’

I realize it is probably pretty passive aggressive of me not to confront any of these drive by assailants but my blood pressure would be through the roof, and I’d likely be banned from the grocery store if I did. Instead I vent to my husband and close mom friends and imagine what I’d really love to say to some of the incredibly insulting compliments I receive on the regular.

“I bet you’re gonna pop any day now, right?” Yes, if I don’t wash up on a beach before that, thanks.

“You still have six weeks to go?!?! Oh you definitely won’t make it to your due date at this rate!” Thanks, I will let my OB know you said that because you obviously shelved your medical degree to become a cashier at Walgreens.

“Wow, and there’s only one in there?!” Yes I am only growing one human inside me at the moment but judging by the look on your face I will ask my OB if in fact I’m carrying a donkey or horse that would explain my horrifying gerth.

“You look really pregnant.” Well that’s good because I really am pregnant but until you said that I wasn’t sure.

“Wow, you’ve gotten so much bigger!” Yes, I have. You get how this pregnancy thing works, right?

“So how much weight have you gained?” Really?? When is this EVER ok?! My typical response is either ‘I’m not sure’ or ‘Enough’ while I’m thinking of how to change the subject. The truth is, I know exactly how much I’ve gained and my doctor says it is perfect but it is none of your damn business.

Your shock and awe response is not something I was striving to achieve. Come to think of it, stranger, I didn’t strike up this conversation about my body. You did.  In fact, I can’t remember a single time in my life I walked up to any stranger and asked “How do I look?” Oh but I got pregnant. My bad.

I’ve mentioned a lot of encounters with strangers and referred to most of them as female. One of the more surprising things I’ve learned is that women tend to be the culprit of these insensitive comments. I guess men, or most of the ones I’ve encountered, have a little more training in keeping their mouths shut on such topics. The real shocking blows have been delivered by women, even fellow moms who are my friends or family. My assumption is that they feel like they can comment because they’ve been pregnant or that they think they are complimenting you in some way just by discussing your pregnancy with you. What I really believe is that we’ve been treating pregnant women this way for so long that it sounds normal. I’m sure some of the women who have told me how BIG I am, were told the same thing at some point and were made to think it was somehow a sweet thing to say.

Every pregnancy is unique. I’ve read and heard that a million times in the last eight months. This means not every woman carries weight the same way. Not every woman has morning sickness. Not every woman runs marathons through her pregnancy and not every woman has pain or other conditions that prevent her from keeping up her exercise routine. All of these and a million other things can affect how a woman looks during pregnancy. None of these factors give anyone else the right to comment on her appearance. As a society, it is no secret that we are brutally hard on women for their looks. That is a topic in and of itself. But can we cut pregnant women some friggin’ slack?

Call me crazy, hormonal, overly sensitive, whatever. We do not need to be passing judgement on any woman’s appearance nor should we have the audacity to voice such opinions. Wake up. This is how women develop eating disorders and other dangerous complexes.  I have close friends who do have such disorders, and I have no idea how they made it through their pregnancies or how they will make it through a pregnancy. I wish I could somehow shield them from all the ignorance. Prior to becoming pregnant, I was comfortable with my weight and overall appearance. But at that point, neither had been subject to such open scrutiny. I was at a healthy weight when I conceived and according to my doctor (the only person who should be talking to me about my weight gain) my weight gain and the size of my baby are exactly on track. I am not carrying like either of my sisters did, like either of my best friends did or like the lady at Target did. However, I’ve had a healthy pregnancy and have managed to make it to thirty-five weeks without losing my s@%t on any family, friends or strangers who’ve, at times, made me feel like a circus freak.

My message is this: do not ask a pregnant woman a question you would not want to answer at any point in your life; do not pay her a ‘compliment’ that you would not find flattering whether you were pregnant or not; and when in doubt say NOTHING. Remember also, that if you are inclined to make a comment, others may have been as well. In other words, you might be the fifth person in a week to tell some poor, hormonal, sleep-deprived woman that she “looks swollen.” Now imagine how you’ve affected her day. Words like glowing, radiant, gorgeous and beautiful are all safe words. If you really want to rock her world, comment on something other than her appearance and tell her she’s going to be a great mom! Steer clear of the word BIG. No matter how you use it, imagine yourself sounding as obnoxious as Donald Trump saying ‘yuuuuge.’

 

We’re Better Than This

I have started, trashed and restarted writing these words for three consecutive days now. I first felt compelled to write after the Alton Sterling shooting in Louisiana, then again after the Philando Castile shooting in Minnesota and now after being up and glued to my tv another night watching the police ambush in Dallas. What is going on in our country?

I was raised to treat police officers with respect. I was taught that they were there to protect people. I looked at them as heroes who kissed their families goodbye, went to work and put their lives on the line everyday. I was never taught to fear police officers. I was never taught to fear being pulled over for a traffic violation for anything other than the consequences of a traffic ticket. I was never told to expect anything but fair and lawful treatment from an officer during an encounter. That was the bubble I lived in.

I wasn’t aware of things; terrifying things that were going on all over the country to racial minorities. I was too busy worrying that every day that my dad went to work, he might get hurt or killed in the line of duty. My father was a police officer for twenty seven years. Because of that, I was raised with an entirely different set of realities and worries. I had a lot of privileges because of who my dad was. I also had a lot of fear. I grew up with people not being afraid to tell me to my face that they hated my dad. I also knew that there were people in our world who would like to harm my dad (or any police officer) simply because he was a police officer.

The events in Dallas are what every husband, wife, parent or child of a police officer fears for their loved one. You know that your loved one will be running toward the danger while everyone else is running away. That’s what they signed up for, whether you like it or not. The events in Minnesota and Louisiana are what black people fear for themselves, their spouse and their children. You never know whether it is a good cop or bad cop you’re going to encounter and what simple thing might escalate that encounter. That’s the reality of our world today, whether you like it or not. Both of these fears are real and justifiable.

As an adult I’ve understood there are good cops, bad cops and good cops who make bad decisions. My eyes were opened when I moved to another part of the country where racism seemed to be alive, well and way more socially acceptable. With that culture shock came a new understanding of what a racial minority faced during an average encounter with the police. This is not to say this is true everywhere 100% of the time but we would all be foolish and naive to not recognize that we are not all treated equally.

Every time I turn on the news and hear about another controversial and devastating instance of police brutality my heart sinks. I am sad for the loss of a life and that the encounter had to end that way, but I am also hoping that the police officer acted in the way that I was raised to think all police officers acted. I wish, every time, that it will be obvious that the police officer had no choice but to do what he or she did out of self-defense for his or her own life.  On more than one occasion, I’ve been let down. It is hard to admit when the police are in the wrong because I feel as though it discredits the hard work of so many honest, hard-working and caring police officers like my father and many others.  That doesn’t mean we can turn a blind eye to these injustices and make excuses for the behavior. It happens. It happens more than it should and it should NOT be so commonplace in our society.

I am emotionally and intellectually capable of mourning the loss of Sterling, Castile and every officer who was killed in Dallas. I have enough compassion as a human being to weep for the unnecessary loss of another human being. I can be the daughter of a police officer and believe that Black Lives Matter. I can support and love my black friends and family and still believe Blue Lives Matter. What I can’t do is continue to remain silent about an issue that is so out of control in our country.

I also believe we all have it in us, deep down, to feel compassion for both the two black men who lost their lives this week as well as the officers in Dallas who were injured or killed. There is so much division in our country and our world right now. Tensions feel to be at an all-time high internationally and right here on our own soil. My hope is that our country does not continue to allow itself to be divided on the opinion that Blue Lives Matter any more than Black Lives Matter. No one person’s life is more important than another.

We cannot rely on the media to steer us in the right direction or provide us with information not skewed to the left or right. We cannot rely on our political leaders to do what’s best for all Americans and lead us out of this very dark hole we are in. What we can do is have compassion for one another. We can be kind to one another regardless of our differences. We can treat ALL LIVES with respect and fight this hate with love and rational thinking.

Do not let the media or politicians prey on our fear and convince us that all police are corrupt and racist. Do not let them tell you that all black people will take their anger to the top of a building with a rifle and kill police to even the score. All of the hatred that is infecting us and spreading is doing so because of fear. We’re smarter than that. We’re not a bunch of kids you can scare into believing the boogie man is under our bed. We’re Americans. We are supposed to be a civilized, educated, free society. Let’s be better than this. There are too many politicians and money makers out there relying on you to be fearful and act on that fear or their agenda won’t work. Let’s come together, treat each other equally and stand up for those who need it. Let’s be the UNITED States of America, land of the FREE, home of the BRAVE.

 

Baby Bump Boundaries

Keep your hands to yourself. Sounds like one of those rules you learn in kindergarten that continues to apply throughout adulthood, right? As human beings, we all appreciate our own personal space and most of us respect others and their personal space. It is not often that someone would place their hands on you without your consent or invitation. That is, of course, unless you’re pregnant. THEN, all rules seem to go right out the window along with people’s boundaries.

I think you can likely guess where I’m going with this but I have to say my intent is to be lighthearted about this topic as best I can be. I am only fifteen weeks pregnant with my first baby and only openly pregnant within the last few weeks. However, I am still having flashbacks to the drive-by rub and runs I’ve experienced in this short period of time. Luckily for me, I’ve only had a few people cross that personal space boundary into rubbing my barely-there-belly, but each time it has happened so quickly and caught me so off guard that I’ve been left speechless. In my 33 years I’ve never had to be ok with people touching me without my consent, so why now that I’m going to be a mother?

As I mentioned, I am still pretty early on in my pregnancy which means I’m in that awkward don’t look pregnant, just look bloated stage. Don’t get me wrong, there is a bump there but the average stranger on the street wouldn’t look at me and know for sure I’ve got a baby in this belly. What this also means is that I don’t have the firm, protruding pregnant belly that’s begging to be rubbed. For someone to rub my baby bump at this point, they have to get pretty up close and personal and they really aren’t feeling anything much different than their own belly if they’d just eaten an entire pizza.

I have to wonder what it is about pregnant women that makes people lose all their typical manners. People seem to feel compelled towards the belly rubs, the telling of horror stories, the judgement and all the unsolicited advice. It all seems to flow so freely once someone learns the news of a bun in the oven.

At what age is this behavior learned? I ask because my nine year-old niece who is very sweetly intrigued by my pregnancy as a whole, had the wherewithal to look up at me sweetly with “May I?” eyes before giving my belly a little pat and a kiss. I felt this kiddo kick when she was in utero, changed her diapers, bathed her, you name it. Of course I think it is so sweet that she wants to give kisses to her baby cousin. Have at it. She’s my buddy, she’s nine and she respected the belly boundary. Will she too one day forget how far a simple ask can get her?

Hands Off the Bump

I know, I know. I am asking a question that expectant mothers everywhere have been asking for years and to which we will probably never learn the answer. I am not anti-belly rubs, really I’m not. I cannot wait for my husband to feel this baby moving around and kicking. I’ll gladly share those precious moments with those I’m close and comfortable with when 1. It is a real bump 2. When there is something to feel 3. When you ask permission before placing your hands on my body. In the meantime, anyone who breaks my belly bump boundary without permission will definitely be getting a reciprocal belly rub from me. 🙂

Do you have a funny story about someone breaking your belly bump boundaries?

Dancing in the Dark

Though I can’t seem to locate all my ticket stubs, I can tell you from memory I’ve seen Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band in concert roughly sixteen times.  For some of you this sounds insane.  For others who are die hard fans, you are not impressed because you’ve seen Bruce on every tour from 1975 on.  I grew up on the Jersey Shore and worked in the bar scene where the overwhelming majority of people are Bruce fans.  My hometown consists of the famous 10th Avenue and E Street which, to some, is an intersection and to Bruce fans is something so much more. I was spoiled enough to experience my first Bruce concert in Asbury Park’s Convention Hall for a rehearsal show. I’d seen Bruce close down Giants Stadium and light up MSG. I’d seen him from the nosebleeds and from twenty feet away. I’d seen him with the E Street Band, the Seeger Sessions Band, solo, with Danny, without Danny, with Clarence, without Clarence. Every show was not just memorable but legendary.

As an adult I relocated to the South where I met my husband.  He grew up in South Carolina and went to college in South Carolina. The name Bruce Springsteen didn’t mean much to him when we met.  The only thing he loved as much as I loved Bruce was college football.  It wasn’t until he heard me ramble on and on for months about what an amazing writer and performer Bruce is that he finally gave it a listen. It wasn’t long before he too became a fan and wished he could experience one of the epic concerts I never shut up about.

Luckily enough for us, Bruce and the band made a trip to the Lakewood Amphitheater in Atlanta in April of 2014. Set aside the fact that my (now) husband proposed the morning of the show, and it was a pretty great day on its own. I saw my fifteenth Bruce show and got to watch my husband take in his first show. He instantly understood what I was talking about and began to love Bruce and the band even more on his own. It wasn’t until February of 2016 that we had another chance to experience another concert together but this time it would be a true arena show at Philips Arena. This is a big difference from the outdoor amphitheater environment where we’d seen him last. The other big difference this time around was that I was pregnant.

Woohoo! Baby’s (in utero) First Bruce Show! Suddenly it dawned on me that this would be the first totally sober show I’d attended since I was eighteen years old. Does that sound bad? The best way I explain it to people down here in the South is that we tailgate for a concert the way you tailgate for a college football game. This is our gameday. It’s not that we needed to be drunk but going to a concert was always a celebration amongst me and my friends so we treated it accordingly. I was about to go to my first major celebration sans alcohol. I started to question, “would it be as great?”. Did I need the booze and the big group of friends to loosen me up and really get me into each song?

I am pretty disappointed in myself for even thinking that thought. I took a nap, packed up my saltine crackers and ginger ale, put on my sea bands and got my butt to Philips Arena. I’m here to say that being at a Bruce show feeling like you might hurl at any moment is just as much the religious experience it normally is. I still got up out of my seat singing, dancing, SHOUTing and appropriately pump my fist into the air at just the right time. I didn’t need the tailgate or the beers or the big group of friends. Me, my husband and our baby-to-be showed up as the show started and were blown away for the next three hours. I heard many of my favorite old songs and some of the band’s new tunes and they all moved me just the same. Bruce and the band did NOT disappoint.

While I was relieved that my musical obsession over the past several decades was just as amazing as I believed it to be, I did, however realize a down side to the sober concert-going experience. That, my friends, would be the people. The family tripping on acid in the seats across the aisle from us was a little more difficult to ignore. The long bathroom line behind those who had “broken the seal” felt a little bit longer. And the smells…well anyone who has been pregnant knows exactly what I mean about all the smells.

At the end of the night I left smiling, singing and feeling like a million bucks. After all, we’d just seen the heart-stoppin’, pants-droppin’, earth-shockin’, hard-rockin’, booty-shakin’, earth-quakin’, love-makin’, viagra-takin’, history-makin’, LEGENDARY, E Street Band. And the best part is, the next morning I remembered the entire setlist! Cheers!

DIY Chalkboard Frame

This project was a relatively simple one but very rewarding since it saved me nearly $100! I had found something I really loved and wanted for our nursery but I thought out loud my usual (and my husband’s fear) “I could make that”. Here is my inspiration for the project:

Find on Etsy

I still think this is adorable but I had two problems with it. This does not fit into my budget and I’m just plain bad at hanging things on the wall in a uniform manner like this.

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My solution came in the form of an old window I had purchased months earlier from my local Habitat for Humanity Restore. The already affordable window was in good shape and after an additional sale discount, came home with me just $3.21! Thought it took me several months to decide what to do with it, I couldn’t resist the deal.

 

 

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Here are the three simple steps I took to creating my decorative chalkboard: 

Step 1: Clean and Sand I first sprayed the window down with an all-purpose cleaner to remove any mildew, dust or lose paint. I then started sanding away by hand at the chipped paint.  This was the most time-consuming part of the project but worth it to have a smooth even surface to paint. I also went over the tougher spots using a palm sander. After sanding I did another round of cleaning including using a toothbrush to really clean out the corners of the windows. Once I cleaned and dried the entire window I moved to the next step.

Step 2: Tape and Paint First I taped the glass using blue painter’s tape while painting the wood with this Ultra Matte Chalk Finish paint. I let the wood dry for about 18 hours and started on the project again the next day. You could give it less time to dry but I had no worries about taping the wood the next day. Before I started on the glass, I quickly scraped it with a putty knife and wiped it down with a glass cleaner to remove any residue. I then taped the edges of the wood and began painting the glass with chalkboard paint using even strokes and just a small amount of paint with each layer. Rust-oleum recommends just two coats of paint but since I was painting on clear glass I applied four coats. **Be sure to allow each coat to dry completely before applying the next or the new coat of paint will peel the previous layer of paint off. A good test after each coat is dry is to hold the glass up to natural light to spot any streaks. After four coats my glass looked solid black.

I luckily had both of these paints (as well as brushes) on hand from other projects I had done recently. The prices are very affordable, though and you will barely make a dent in either for this project allowing you to reuse them in the future like I did. I recommend using a soft, natural bristle brush. I also highly suggest applying a coat of clear wax to your wood once dry to help preserve the paint.

Step 3: Distress and Decorate: Once I peeled away all painter’s tape and allowed the window to dry I did some sanding along the edges to give it a bit of a distressed look. I then applied a quick coat of wax to seal the wood. Now came the fun part…decorating! This window will be placed in our baby’s nursery so I chose the lyrics of one of my favorite lullabies.

Whether this project best suits your kitchen, office or bedroom, the chalk board allows you the versatility to use it many different ways. I think this could work well in the kitchen for a shopping list, an office to-do list or in the bedroom with your favorite quote.

Though this project only cost me the $3.21 I paid for the window, you may not have all of the supplies on hand. If you estimate the cost to buy all supplies this is still an affordable project.

Too good to be true?

When I was nineteen years old and struggling with endometriosis symptoms my doctor (at the time) told me, “If you’d like to have children you should consider starting soon.” Woah, WHAT? Nineteen-year-old me was freaking out a bit about that statement. Though the shock passed and thankfully I didn’t run out and take that doctor’s advice, those words lingered in the back of my mind until, well, they still do.

Over the next decade and then some, I came to terms with the fact that conceiving a baby was not going to come easily to me.  This was aside from the fact that it took me another ten years to even meet the man with whom I wanted to marry and start a family. The next couple of years was spent preparing my future husband that conceiving our own children might not be in the cards for us or that it would, at the very least, take us a long time. I felt like I needed to be sure he would be happy with me and only me, should that be the hand we were dealt.

To cut to the chase a bit and leave out details you don’t want to read about, I will tell you in January, just five months after our wedding, I had a full pre-pregnancy work-up. The results were far from inspiring but I was pleased with my new doctor who understood my history and was ready to re-evaluate our situation in just three months and take action if we did not conceive.  Many doctors would have said “Talk to me when you’ve been trying a full year.” To our surprise and elation I was back at that same office just two weeks later, confirming my pregnancy.

I felt completely shocked, over the moon excited and…guilty. In hopes of conceiving I had made some lifestyle changes including my diet, exercise regimen, alcohol consumption and I even stopped wearing nail polish. I changed or removed anything from my routine that people said might affect my hormones. By just our third month of trying it was definitely becoming all I could think about.  All that being said, it took us less than five months to conceive. For all those years I had mentally prepared myself for the long haul and suddenly felt like it had come way too easily. That’s when I went into panic mode.  I am a worrier by nature so it didn’t take much to push my nerves to the brink of a meltdown.

My first mistake was Google. My second mistake was not telling my mom and/or sisters immediately.  My outlets consisted of my husband and online groups of (sorry) crazy women to navigate the first couple weeks of my pregnancy.  Every cramp and twinge led me to think I was on the verge of a miscarriage. Again, my head was telling me this all seemed too easy and too good to be true. I was counting the days until I graduated to another week (I still do that), until I could hear the heartbeat, until my next ultrasound, until my second trimester and so on.

Now in my fourteenth week of pregnancy and out in the open about our little baby-to-be, my nerves have settled with the support of my close friends and family who are moms themselves. I love my husband for his support but I know he felt relief the day we gave the news to my mom and sisters.  I know there are still a million things that could go wrong between now and our baby’s safe arrival.  Every day I wake up and make a conscious effort to worry less and enjoy my pregnancy for what it is.  I also never let myself take any of it for granted. I am thankful every single day and make sure my baby, my husband and God know that.

You will see me write throughout my pregnancy. You’ll see me joke, laugh and make fun of myself but you will not hear me complain about this journey.  Do I whine about my all-day-sickness sometimes? Sure. Do I let you know when I need a nap in the middle of the day or make my 37th trip to the bathroom? Absolutely.  You will not hear me blame this baby for any of it. You won’t hear me say “damn this baby” or “this kid is killing me”. I may sound naive to you veteran moms and that’s ok. I am going to continue to be grateful that my all-day-sickness reminds me that baby is still there, my trips to the bathroom mean baby is growing and my sleepiness means baby is using my energy to get stronger.

I have been that woman dying to be pregnant, listening to someone complain about having to be pregnant and it is torture. I remind myself that at any moment I could be talking to a woman who has tried five years, not five months or a woman who has conceived and lost a baby. So, although conceiving turned out to be less challenging than I was prepared for, I imagine God will find another way to challenge me because He always does. In the meantime, I will be over here enjoying my queasy, sleepless nights and sleepy days and continue to be grateful. I know we have been blessed and the luck of the Irish has smiled down on me.

Not learning my baby’s gender won’t kill me…or you

It’s the year 2016, technology is further advanced than we’ve ever seen it before and I am the freak of nature who chooses NOT to find out the gender of my baby. I get it. It is an incredible thing that doctors can so accurately predict the gender of unborn children all over the world. I am not knocking anyone who chooses to find out. I also understand that there are certain situations when knowing your baby’s gender in utero is very helpful. To each is own, right?

I wish I could say I haven’t had anyone look at me puzzled, shocked or downright appalled when I’ve made the statement, “We are going to be surprised.”  The truth of the matter is, though, it’s the year 2016 and most people have lost or never had a filter when it comes to talking to a pregnant woman. Just because you CAN find out, doesn’t mean you have to and just because you have an opinion on the matter, doesn’t mean you have to share it.

“Oh wow, you’re so brave! I could NEVER.”  Yeah, you could.  I promise. It was not that long ago that the ability to predict the gender of an unborn baby was not available to most.  My mom had four healthy children without knowing what she was having and somehow managed to not self-destruct.  In fact, both of my sisters did the same within the past fifteen years.  Billions of women have done it and so could you.

“But how will you plan?!” For a baby? Hmmm let’s see… I’ll save money, register for or buy things we need, take my prenatal vitamins. It may make life a little easier but don’t use that as a cop out for HAVING to know. Preparing for a girl baby and a boy baby are remarkably similar.  You’d be amazed.

“But you can’t decorate the nursery or buy any clothes!” My mom didn’t know if I was a girl or a boy and you know what my nursery looked like? I DON’T REMEMBER. I am pretty sure, as the youngest of four, I never had my own nursery and somehow I’m not emotionally scarred by it.  I also know that I wore hand-me-down clothes from my sisters AND brother regardless of what color they were.  It is easy to find gender neutral clothing, nursery decor, toys, you name it. I suppose this is not a huge deal to me because I wouldn’t be likely to make a child’s room overly feminine or masculine regardless.

“You should let someone else find out and just not tell you.” You should simply respect the fact that I would like to experience one of the very few true surprises that come in life. You should also be grateful that I didn’t slap you for that remark.  How often are you given the opportunity to be 100% completely surprised by something in life? The bonus is that both results are bound to make you happy.  I will also note that I have been in the room for my sisters’ births and know that the motivation to find out their baby’s gender was a huge lift for them near the end of their very long labors.

I completely respect every woman or couple’s decision regarding learning the gender of their unborn baby. That is a very personal choice and one that deserves no input from others. I promise you won’t hear me criticize someone for finding out. After all it is 2016…and I have a filter.