the one and only child

As my friends embark on having babies, and some now moving on to baby #2, it's been interesting to hear them explain their desire to have a second. I totally connect with wanting to build a family—personally, I'd love to end up with a houseful of kids and chaos. But there's often a nuance of fear in the conversation too...the fear of having an only child.

Even though I don't have siblings, I get that having a brother or sister is nine-times-out-of-ten the shit. You have an automatic best friend, a playmate, an unbreakable bond, shared memories. That's a blessing that, correct, I can't truly understand. So I get it if someone is sad that their kid might not know that kind of a relationship, and that I can't actually "get" that at all. 

But the funny thing is, I have only one time felt at a disadvantage for being an only child, and that's when my dad died and I had to pick up the pieces alone. But even in that impossible time, I still recognized that being an only child made the process simpler; it meant no fighting over tough decisions and stupid material items that shouldn't belong to us anyway...I just had to decide what choices I could live with making, and then make them. 

Other than that, I think being an only child has worked out really nicely. And not just because I got whatever I wanted (I didn't). Or because I got all of my parents attention (I did, and trust me, that's a bad thing too). But when I had to play alone, it meant that my imagination just got extra ramped up...I mean, have you ever gotten to be the shopper AND the checkout person in the same game?! When I wanted to play with someone else, I made friends...and they were playmates I got to choose all for myself. Which meant that over time, I've cherry-picked a freaking fantastic lineup of people I can't live without, people that feel as close to me as sisters, people that I fiercely cherish. Being an only child also meant that I fell in love with animals, because they were the extra "people" that filled our home. It meant that I behaved, because there was no older brother to buy me leniency with his screw-ups first, and there was no younger brother to distract my mom when it was time to pick a punishment. It was how I learned to love writing, because nothing passes the time like a good ole journaling session. For the same reason, it was how I learned to really, really love a huge variety of music. It was why I turned into an extrovert. It was how I became me.  

So I don't know. I certainly want multiple kids, but that's more because I personally love being around a group of people and to live with a group sounds like a dream! I'm actually a little scared to witness sibling relationships...what if they grow up to become strangers? What if they hurt each other, or hate each other? I guess the fear is there on either side. But don't be too sad for your kid if they end up being an only child. The beauty of it is...we never know the difference :)

laughing at yourself

Embarking on yet another, how do the kids say it, "shitty-ass-shithole" of a winter has made me absolutely cherish the ultra warm wardrobe I'm lucky enough to have. When the highest temp of the day is still in the negatives, you know you need to move kill yourself kill everyone else be bundling up in the best of the best. I found this post from two years ago and genuinely laughed out loud when I read about my winter wardrobe. Let's walk the historical red carpet together.

HANDS
Year 1-2: Wool gloves.
Year 3-4: Wool mittens.
Year 5: Down & leather ski mittens that I sometimes forget aren't boxing gloves.

FEET
Year 1-2: Boots.
Year 3-4: Boots specifically for commuting.
Year 5: North Face snow boots with insulation that protects down to -25. Which is great because guess what, four days ago the wind chill WAS -25. How 'bout them apples!

BODY
Year 1-2: Short puffy coat.
Year 3-4: Long down coat.
Year 5: Long down coat with hardshell exterior so that snow rolls off like a duck on wheels. That's right. #duckonwheels

When your #duckonwheels hood won't stay up and you have to walk 3 miles in the snow + wind, it's time for an old-fashioned berka

FACE
Year 1-2: Nothing. Ha. Ha.
Year 3-4: 2 moisturizers.
Year 5: 2 moisturizers for the face, 1 hardcore treatment for cracked hands, 1 butter cream for pre-cracked hands, 1 extra moisturizing lotion for everyday all over body and hands, and lotion in my bag. Your takeaway here is GET IN THE LOTION BIZ NOW $$$$$$.


EMOTIONS
Year 1-2: Vitamin D pills, 1000 IU, late in the season after getting a blood test and learning the target range is 50-80 and I was at a 12. Twelve.
Year 3-4: Vitamin D pills, 1000 IU, earlier in the season.
Year 5: Vitamin D pills, 5000 IU, which is basically one step short of checking yourself into a mental hospital. But as far as I'm concerned, anything they sell OTC stands for Off The Charts (Get You Some). So I did.



Overall, I can't say I'm making it look good exactly, but I'm learning...slow and steady wins the race over here.

2K15

This weekend I did something out of the ordinary (dare we say, {extra}ordinary*) by my standards...I went to see a movie. In the theater. With snacks and everything! What a luxury to have enough patience to do this. (That's what 2 weeks off of work will do for you). Anyway, Wild was my first movie for 2015, and damn Gina did it make me miss blogging. It also made me miss: camping, pushing yourself, mountains, no makeup, and generally kicking ass in all sorts of ways. But it did make me miss this little blog that has run the gamut from "sentimental explorations" to "embarrassing vignettes that should probably be erased from the interwebs". I'm 100% sure no one even looks at it anymore. So fine. I'm back for me then.

Since the calendar flipped, I've been reflecting a lot on 2014...it was interesting in that it wasn't wrought with change, nothing terrible happened, and I took some fun trips in between. The end. JUST KIDDING I just started blogging again, I'm ready to typppppe! 

2014, in short:

• The new job - Beginning here. I've learned a ridiculous amount during my job change - the easiest nut to crack was that *HUZZAH* working in the nonprofit world is definitely the right field for me. Such a reassurance, considering it was the crux of my motivation to switch industries. In another post, I'll answer riveting questions such as, How much work is too much? Can I strangle the next person who says "lean in"? Will you define a "hostile work environment"? Is the grass indeed greener? Good things have happened too, I promise. 

• The new cats - One year ago today, we traipsed out into a snowmageddon to see if there were any kitties in the world that needed to be living in our house instead. Five minutes after we saw a tabby tween named Judo running across the room at a local shelter, we were filling out adoption papers...especially because he came with a brother, Sumo, who cuddled up to me immediately. They came home an hour later, and our lives immediately lit up! I feel so sorry for people who don't know the joy of animals. A strange, sad blip in the storyline is that Sumo came down with an incurable disease in June...within 4 days he was gone. It was such a shock. The only positive thing was that we were glad he lived with us instead of on the street while he felt so sick (unbeknownst to us, because dammit cats are good at hiding being sick). 

Sumo the Wolf (front) and Judo sharing the new cat tree.
Note: this tree is so big that it prompted a guest to ask "So like, do you have 17 cats?"

• By September, it was clear that Judo needed a companion or else because we simply weren't entertaining enough for him. Enter: Pixel the Kitten, another fantastic shelter find. I hope she's with us forever+ever because she truly completes our little four-some! She's the friendliest, spunkiest little thing I've ever met, chock-full of tortitude and ready to wrestle much-larger Judo at any moment. They are perfect playmates. 

  

  Pixel likes to jump on your back whenever possible and immediately lay down. Because your back is her property.  

  
  

  

  Judo is all grown up now, teaching Pixel to sit in the window

  
  

  

  Pixel, sacked out

• More church - I mean really, can you ever get enough of God?! Kidding / not kidding. I skulked into Community Christian Church in Spring 2011 and managed to fly under the radar for about six months before the pastor, heretofore known as Tammy, started to wonder who the wanderer was. Since then I've slowly become more involved, joining the "First Impressions" team (serving during service), joining a small group, and even nearly taking a full time marketing/communications job there. This year I starting overseeing the service team and accepted taking over our small group in the coming months...something I'm nervous about but really think it's going to do wonders for me and my walk of faith.

Hanging with church peeps. Out of church. PROOF.

• Domestic travel at its best - As per usual, we had a lot of weekends away, starting with visiting Jackie in St. Louis, our camping "party of bizz" in Wisconsin, Port Aransas girls trip, Texas for my mom's birthday and later Thanksgiving, Austin for the triathlon, Vegas for funsies, and Florida for a beachy Christmas (with a night in Biloxi mixed in). That's a lot of Southwest drink tickets. And perhaps more gambling than is necessary. But overall, such an amazing time connecting with friends and family...as grateful as ever for the ability to travel.

I hope the year ahead contains more yoga, less clutter, more nature, less cat hair, more writing, less days under 30 degrees, more green smoothies, less DVR...it's a tall order for 2015!

*blog jokes are the best

moms

I waited to write this post until I was certain (or at least mostly certain) about the trajectory that the story would take. Now, Mother's Day two years later, seem apropos.

Two years ago while skiing in Tahoe with friends, my mom found out she had breast cancer. Sadly, we can't say it was the most unexpected things since my grandmother (her mother) and my great-aunt both got it when they were in her 60s. My great-grandmother had breast & ovarian cancer as well, so we have it coming from all angles.

Together with her doctors, she decided to undergo a double mastectomy (which I'm sure she'd kill me for posting about on the worldwide web) within three weeks. At the time of the surgery, they would be able to determine if it had spread and then what further treatment would be needed. So it became a waiting game.

During that time, I thought a lot about the timing of major life events and what it all means. I've got to think there was a good reason for this news arriving at the very beginning of a five-day vacation with friends. I'm not one for compartmentalizing, so I can only assume I would've holed myself up in some crying vortex if I had been in Chicago. Or tried to fly to Texas immediately. Neither of those things would have really done any good, so although it really skewed my level of enthusiasm on the trip, I have to say that the distraction probably served me well in the long run. By the time I got back, I had gotten most of my sporadic emotions under control and was able to focus on what it was that I needed to do.

Of course, I never figured out exactly what I needed to do. The biggest lesson I learned from my dad's illness/death was that even though it seemed like the healthiest thing to do was to maintain as normal of a life as possible during the chaos, that could mean that you ended up being surprised by death and then second-guessing every time you allowed yourself to maintain a normal life. Since hindsight is 20/20, I figured maybe I should use this "learning" now...but to do what? The alternative of acting like everything is okay is to pretty much say or do the things you've always wanted to do/say for fear that your loved one will die without knowing or experiencing something. But in doing that, you insinuate that a situation just might not end up okay...which is why you're hedging your bets. And in a situation like my mom's, where she was terrified of dying, I figured the best thing I could do (independent of my lesson) was to be as positive as possible.

My mom recovered from surgery remarkably well and was back to work within a few weeks. After a lot of tests and doctor's appointments, they decided that she wouldn't do any sort of chemo or radiation and instead take a less-intrusive medication and continue to be monitored - so essentially, the best case scenario. Sweet, sweet relief! The weeks leading up to the surgery and through the initial recovery were just short of excruciating for everyone involved, but it's hard to believe that it all happened so fast! The experience feels so surreal now. And I'm certain it will never be over for my mom, who now had to adjust to a new body and also the fear of a recurrence. But still, I think we walked away from this with the biggest dodged-a-bullet sigh of relief you can imagine. I mean, my friends were amazing (especially Keely, Amy, and Megan, who drove from near and far to be with me and my mom), my stepfather proved to be even more loving and supportive than we already knew him to be, and I think a little piece of my relationship with my mom was restored during all the pain and fear. I saw her in a way I never had before - she was relentlessly determined and fought through pain and sickness to do her part in the healing process, and I think that played a huge role in why she recuperated so quickly. I've never heard her complain about it, and she's produced some wicked boob jokes out of it too (always a bonus). I'm proud to call her my mom.

So...here's to taking care of our bodies, taking care of our moms, and taking what's coming around the corner in stride.

Day before surgery, 2012

2013, Chicago!

X-mas 2013, Texas

tales from the train V

Today I was back in my standard, voyeuristic position looking over someone's shoulder on the way to work. 

This guy was 45, slim, ruddy skin, clean cut, glasses, close-cut hair, suit attire, big hands. Your standard white-collar nice-guy.

I first noticed him pinching the skin on the back of his left hand with his right index finger and thumb. Slowly scraping and pinching. Stop. Scrape. Pinch. Pinch. I realized he had a little bit of OCD in him, maybe the kind of guy who also likes to eat chalk...then I saw him stretch out his fingers and they were really, really knobby. It seemed like he might have an extra joint in his fingers. And then I thought, I bet if I wait long enough he'll do something weird again.

Patience is a virtue on the train. No less than a minute later did he nibble at the big joint on his thumb for a few seconds, then put it back in his lap. Wait for it....now nibbling at his next finger....wait for it...you got it, more nibbling. So the knobbiness wasn't just like a weird circus freak thing, it was actually a compulsive-biting-induced full-blown inflamation all over his hands. By the time I got off, his hand was wet with slobber. I AM NOT EVEN EXAGGERATING.

CTA: 5, LB: 0

remembrance

It's one of my favorite days of the whole year: Easter!!!!! Although I probably don't come across as the most reverent person, I take Easter and Lent and the whole story of Jesus' resurrection super seriously, and over the years I have found myself truly rejoicing more and more on the big day. Today Chicago was blessed with our first absolutely gorgeous day (i.e. it snowed last weekend and today we crested 70 degrees!) - in perfect timing to coincide with the greatest story of renewal and rebirth. This summer is definitely going to save my poor spirit, which was totally squashed by this horrible-no-good-very-bad winter. But enough about me. JUST KIDDING IT'S MY BLOG!

first time my shoulders have seen sun since September

Easter, all about remembrance, is aptly nested in the middle of the month that typically has its ups and downs for me. April marks my dad's passing and birthday, so it's just jam-packed with all sorts of shittiness. Six years later, my grief has shifted to this mild anxiety that I really don't know how to "remember" him appropriately. As in, I think it's really difficult to honor someone once they're gone -- in a way that reminds you of how much you loved them and also helps other people honor their memories with him as well. I mean, my dad definitely had friends, but as a single, older male with only one distanced sister, it just sort of played out that I was the closest person left to him. I hate the thought that other people don't remember him as much as I do, and the pressure to try to preserve his memory is even worse.

I know some people find a public way to commemorate a lost loved one, and even though I did a few of those things (like buying a brick at Town Lake), I'm at a loss for what else to do. It even seems weird to post on Facebook, say for his birthday, because I don't want people to feel sorry for me or something, I just want them to remember him. I've thought a lot about doing a Team in Training, which fights leukemia, but I can't honestly say I feel like that would do anything in terms of preserving his memory. I do make a donation in his name on his birthday and Brian & I share a Guinness every year too, but it feels so private...I already know WE remember him. I want other people to too.

If anyone has any interesting ideas, I'd love to hear them! Surely there's something creative and meaningful that we could get into...and if not, then this year there's a cat shelter with a donation in his name on it :) I guess I inherited my love for cats from him because half his emails were like a neighborhood newsletter on all the strays. I'll leave you with this one - makes me laugh!

The blue-eyed 3/4 Siamese kitty is all over me every time I see it and keeps trying to get inside.  It comes up for scratching even when there is food out.  Someone has apparently spoiled it badly .  This morning when I went out for the paper there were waiting for me:

blue-eyed kitty
blk/orange noisy one
little grey-striped Noko Mari
very old orange kitty
little black noisy kitty
another grey and stripes who has been coming closer and talks back to me

Lots of racoon prints on porch from last night.  Guess I better go get more food.

Pops the easy touch

the most important meal of the day

Errrrbody's gettin crazy up in the kitchen these days, and by errbody, I mean just me! It used to be that Brian was the master chef in the family, but when he got incredibly busy last summer I started taking the reins and somehow the power never shifted back to its rightful owner. Which is a disservice to all of us, considering once he told me that I should be on Worst Cooks in America (a real show) because I would win. He thought he was complimenting me.

BUT I got sick of my ever-reliable trio of baked chicken / stir fry / frozen pizzas, and started paying attention to my Every Day With Rachael Ray magazine (which I get by happy accident), and a little bit of magic has happened along the way. We're talking experiments, recipes, new genres, meal planning--which incidentally requires thinking, lists, research--NOBODY WARNED ME.

It also includes packing lunches for the week on Sunday, whipping up desserts on the fly (see incredible dark chocolate brownie recipe here), and my favorite, breakfast experiments. Mmmmm breakfast.

So, one of the worst things to happen when we moved from Texas was the taco trucks didn't follow us. How ruuuude. I was on an anti-tortilla kick for a while which I will later refer to as my temporary insanity so I'm only recently back in the taco game, but damn Gina, have we got this one nailed.

both with eggs, southwest hash browns, special hot sauce from a family friend and cheese; top with avocado and bottom with black bean dip

Next, we got a Ninja a few Christmases back and it's only now seeing its true glory...two wasted years we could've spent together! But now we're in full swing making a couple of these bad boys for breakfast each week. I'm still trying to nail the best balance between being healthy and delicious, so if you have any good recipes, please share! I pretty much blend 4-6 fruits/veggies together every time so no smoothie takes a particular flavor, but I think if I could limit the ingredients then I'd start to differentiate them, which might bring some pizzazz. Yeah I said it. Motherf&@(n pizzaz.

rainbow of deliciousness

Then, this month I was reading the Rachael Ray breakfast issue at the gym, and I got all fired up about french toast--which I've never made in my life--and ran straight home from my workout into a tub of sugar. A half hour later, I came to from a blackout and this was on my plate. Whaaat? It was a culinary victory for me for many reasons, mostly that we somehow had all these ingredients in the house and that I actually took that into consideration before I began cooking. That, my friends, is what we call progress. 

cinnamon sugar french toast with a peach/syrup compote

And finally, one of my recent favorites: Alton Brown's Southern Biscuits! This was my first foray at a bread, and I was surprised to find that you didn't need yeast or self-rising flour or SOMETHING weird/different. Again, mostly things we had in the pantry...except buttermilk...tend to not keep that on the daily menu. They were pretty delicious and simple to make; I'd definitely do it again but halve the recipe, because now it's been biscuits-all-day-every-day-and-even-a-Texas-girl-needs-a-break-from-that-shit. Here's the crazy thing about the biscuit experiment. I was on a high after I made them, so in a super hipster moment I made this chia seed jam to go with them. Unfortunately I violated my only cooking rule of following the recipe first before making adjustments, so my wacko raspberry lemon jam was a major fail (tart x 10), but the chia seeds actually gave a good consistency, so I would try again. Not sure I'll ever start canning, but it's nice to know we could make something at home if the zombie apocalypse wipes out all the Smuckers. 

I also found a heart-shaped cookie cutter in my grandmama's old cooking stuff. Huge win! 

Here's to keeping the experimentation (and failures) going!