thoughts on being a mess

You know how when a bunch of little nothings all amount to what feels like big fucking somethings and the weight of all those nothings-turned-into-somethings finally breaks any ability you typically have to maintain any semblance of perspective?

 

Because that's me right now, shoulders actively bowing down under the weight of life occasionally being a real son of a bitch. 

 

While the finer details of all those said nothings aren't even worth their weight to get into here, they are still enough of something to mentally and emotionally wear on me because I'm human. When they're then compounded by Edie coming down with a case of hand, foot, and mouth disease, I am not only human but I become a human bound to lose her shit.

 

And I did.

 

As I sat at my desk on the phone with one of my best friends this morning, the levy broke and I unloaded, tears streaming down my face for no reason and for every reason. I typically pride myself on being able to keep life in perspective during the days that require more effort than others, always making a point to remind myself that it could be worse and, for many people, it is. Sometimes, though, a girl just needs a good ugly cry in her best friend's empathetic ear in order to pull herself together.

 

But, for fuck's sake, Life. Give a girl (and her littlest girl) a break, will you? 

 

I live under the assumption that things going wrong is simply par for the course of life. I also know that I can't always fix whatever is going wrong and that's okay with me. Usually, anyway. 

Motherhood is the one area of my life where not being able to fix whatever is wrong isn't and never will be an easy pill to swallow. Feeling helpless as a mother feels cruel, like pouring salt in an already open and incredibly vulnerable wound. Lately with Edie, it's only felt as if I've been sitting outside of that realm of control and, admittedly, I'm struggling with that. Not because I'm a control freak but, rather, because I can't find anything to grasp onto for balance when shit is hitting the proverbial fan. It's making me dizzy. And tired. Very, very tired.

 

All of this is, I guess, just to say that I'm human and sometimes need to talk about it. And that life is hard. It's even harder when your kid is sick (again) and people are assholes. 

 

Here's to trekking through the trenches of motherhood, the dear and empathetic ears willing to listen, and bless all of the wine consumed in the process...

five things

Happy Friyay, folks. Here are this weeks Five Things.

1. Last night, I spent about two hours uploading three thousand or so photos to my computer and iCloud (and backing-up three times to be safe) and came across a slew of photos from right after we brought Edie home. While browsing these photos documenting the last seventeen months or so, it was made clear to me that all of my worry about how to somehow not suck at raising two kids was possibly excessive. I told myself that it would all work out, of course, but I also had my doubts. I shouldn't have because they are happy and healthy and, most days, big fans of each other. All in all, we're doing pretty okay.

2. Do you watch Between Two Ferns? The most recent episode featuring Hillary Clinton is a riot. My favorite part? "They're a good cut of meat. Probably from the asshole." Ba dun dun! *DISCLOSURE: You do not need to be a Clinton or Trump supporter to appreciate this skit because there are digs for each side of the political spectrum. You just need a sense of humor.*

3. Mo had a major sleep regression when she was around eighteen months old that lasted for about two weeks and it nearly killed me. Of course, I couldn't really complain about a measly two weeks because she'd been sleeping twelve to thirteen hours through the night ever since she was eight weeks old. Which brings me to Edie. She's clearly our payback for having a child who sleeps. I'm starting to come to the conclusion that there's no real rhyme or reason why this kid doesn't sleep other than possibly being allergic to it? That or she hates us? Both seem logical to me. Is there such a thing as a sleep regression that lasts for eighteen months? We're DYING over here.

4. I walked into Mo's classroom to pick her up and without even saying HI, she exclaimed, "Wow, Mom, you look great." As she went about her business saying goodbye to her friends and teachers for the weekend, I just stood in the doorway, wondering if she was simply perfecting the fine art of sarcasm. (Read: I don't feel great and look like shit.)

5. Mo is supposed to be having quiet time while I get some work done but has refused and, instead, is sitting beside me and has not taken a single breath in about seventeen minutes while she describes every last detail of the American Girl doll (and her outfits!) that she wants for Christmas. CHRISTMAS!!!!!! She would also like me to know that she wants a vanity for her bedroom "to store her make-up and all her special fings" and wants to make sure I'm still letting her get her ears pierced because I said I would and "when you say you're going to do somefing, you have to follow through. No. matter. what." And here I think she doesn't listen to anything I say...

food | ahi poke bowls

It's been a while since I've posted a recipe but I made this little no-cook miracle last night and got a few requests for details after I posted in on the 'gram. So, here's the ridiculously easy how to. Hope you enjoy it!

And if you happen to make it, please leave a comment and tell me how you liked it! I'm always curious if my recipes are a total fluke and Joe is just lying to me to protect my feelings or if they're actually any good. I'd very much appreciate it!

 

Poke Bowl

12 ounces sushi grade ahi tuna, diced into large bite-size pieces
poke marinade (see below)
2 cups sticky sushi rice (or rice of your choice*)
toppings of your choice (avocado, cabbage, shredded carrots, sliced cucumbers, scallions, sliced fresh jalapeño, etc.)


Poke Marinade

1/3 cup soy sauce or tamari
1/4 cup seasoned rice wine vinegar
1 tbsp toasted sesame oil
1 tbsp mirin
1 tsp minced ginger
1 scallions, white and light green parts only
1 tsp sambal olek or Sriracha
1 tsp sesame seeds


Marinade the cubed tuna in the refrigerator for 2-3 hours.


When you’re ready to serve, spoon about a cup of rice per person in the bottom of a bow and then layer on your desired toppings. Top the bowl with the poke and drizzle on any remaining marinade. (Trust me, it’s too good to waste.)

 

Garnish with some toasted sesame seeds, scallions, and maybe even some Nori Kame (seaweed and sesame seed rice seasoning) if you’re feeling fancy.

 

*The beauty of this recipe is that you can use anything you like for toppings. I picked the sushi rice up from our neighborhood sushi restaurant because sushi rice is a temperamental food to prepare and I didn’t feel like dealing with it. If you’ve got an hour to spare, you could certainly make your own rice or use brown or whatever tickles your fancy but I’m a dedicated proponent of convenience and efficiency so I stand in favor for paying five bucks if it means that I can take back possession of that extra hour of my life.

five things

Call me crazy but I don't believe that Monday deserves our freshest start. Mondays are for the persistent grind; for doing the work; for crossing off that never ending To Do list. But Fridays? Shouldn't that be the mark of a fresh slate? Shouldn't we use Friday as our reset button? Don't our families and loved ones deserve the best of us over the course of the few days a week we get to dedicate to filling our love tanks up in order to face another Monday? 

 

Don't we deserve that?

 

I think that's why I have grown rather fond of the Five Things series I used to do over at The C-Word. At the end of the week where it seems that everything but my mental sanity are the priority, I find it to be incredibly cathartic to document all the things I (a) want to remember or (b) want to share or (c) need to channel my inner-Elsa and let that shit go. 

So, I think I'll start doing it again more regularly. Okay? Okay. 

1. I got Edie her first pair of high-tops which only served to reinforce the fact that chubby baby legs in high-top sneakers is plausibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. And while I typically own my bias where my daughters are concerned, the truth is the truth and the truth is that both of my girls ooze swagger. Clearly they didn't get it from their parents who are utterly devoted nerds and always a few steps behind anything that's deemed even remotely cool or trendy. 

2. Jessi Klein is my current girl crush. She is solely responsible for pulling me out of my reading/writing rut and I'm eternally grateful. After having been advised to read her book by a few writers/friends/fellow book worms whose book recommendations have never steered me wrong, You'll Grow Out of It did not disappoint. It's so fucking funny and candid and self-deprecating and relatable and wonderfully absent of any snark or narcissism which, unfortunately, so many belonging to this genre reek of. Consider this MY recommendation for YOU. Read it. 

3. We've had one of my best friends and her little family staying with us this week. They live in Scotland so, sadly, we are able to see each other very rarely. I (FINALLY!) got to meet her baby boy (the last time I saw her was at her baby shower almost a year ago!) and to say that the Fadel ladies are completely obsessed with him would be an acute understatement. Marlo, evident by her temperamental relationship with her baby sister, could usually take or leave babies; she doesn't always believe they serve any useful purpose other than taking away attention better served on her. But not Baby T. On day two of their stay, she declared, "Mama, I don't really want you to have another baby but if you do, it needs to be a boy JUST like him because he is so so so so so so cute. I want to squeeze his cheeks all the time! But not hurt him like I used to do Edie because I like him a lot. You promise?!"

Mo, do tell me how you really feel. 

4. Do you remember JNCOs? I sure do. I thought they were the undeniable coolest, the perfect swaggy counterpart to my over plucked eyebrows, white eyeliner, and frosted lip gloss combo. Since wide-leg jeans are apparently back in, I found a pair that are as close to JNCOs as possible and I am smitten. I can very easily hide a small child under just one of the legs but, for nostalgia's sake, I am now re-devoted to channeling my inner angsty seventh grade boy. YOLO.

5. I don't understand why my kids insist on touching me so much against my will. It's like they have some sort of quota to fill; like, how many times can we invade her personal space in a single day? How many times can we force her to give in to another episode of Shimmer and Shine just to make us our eighteenth snack that we won't stop literally begging for? For fuck's sake, I'd give anything to not be touched or have anything demanded of me for an entire hour but, at this point, I'd settle for just pooping in private and not seeing tiny chubby fingers underneath the door or having Mo ask for a detailed analysis of my shit. Fun times, y'all. Fun. Freaking. Times.