** Please note, the following post contains explicit language.
Dear Karen,
I am writing to you to apologize. This whole COVID-19 thing is a bitch, huh? The masks, the gloves, the hand sanitizer, the fight for Clorox wipes, the rising cost of food items… it’s enough to make you pull your hair out and scream at people to suck it up and get back to business as usual… right? It is unfathomable that to get your hair cut and colored, you have to have your temperature taken and a mask must be securely fastened to your face. Where is your right to say, “Screw this! I am NOT wearing a mask to my dental appointment.”? All great questions. You are, after all, an independent woman with rights as an American citizen. You do not appreciate being painted as an angry white woman (imagine the nerve). Girlfriend, I getcha. This shit sucks. People die of other diseases all the time and we don’t shut down our country… so everyone just needs to pull it together!
And that’s where I say, you are wrong, Karen. Yes, this whole thing sucks. It feels like we are living something out of a science fiction horror novel. It sucks that life as usual has paused. But, guess what? It will not get better until this whole thing gets better; until cases are down and deaths aren’t, well, deaths. I know masks seem stupid… but if you could protect one vulnerable person, why wouldn’t you? Do not call yourself pro-life when you proclaim that masks inhibit your freedoms and that this whole thing is fake… are you willing to bet YOUR life on that? If so, girlfriend, you are not pro-life. That is not respecting the sanctity of one’s life.
When you throw out numbers… please do so carefully. I know that lots of people die of the flu every year and that those deaths don’t shut down economies! Trust me, I KNOW. Those deaths are tragedies too… perhaps if we wore masks (like other countries) around flu season, we wouldn’t have so many deaths to be using in your argument to justify why this whole Corona beer thing is crap…
If you don’t trust scientists, then fine. That’s on you, Karen. As such please don’t seek the aid of anyone in the medical field, or send your kids to school (science class be damned!), or get vaccinated. If you don’t trust other countries and the measures they are taking to reduce and contain COVID-19, then please don’t ever leave American soil. You are not wanted or welcome in countries that are doing the best they can to save their people.
Did you know that other countries and NOW the US have had to start using freezer trucks to store bodies because the morgues are full up? Ain’t that some shit? I am sorry that your regularly scheduled programming has been interrupted. I am sorry that you feel the way you do, I truly am. It must be terrible to feel that way.
I am not sorry enough though. I will continue to wear my mask in public and offend your sensibilities. I will continue to keep my daughter at home and away from crowds. I will do whatever needs to be done to help keep the numbers down, to protect my daughter, to protect my at-risk father, to protect my husband… whatever is asked of me, I will do. As a person who gets claustrophobic, I will wear my damn mask. I will sanitize my house often (though that’s not new- I am a bit OCD and my house is always properly sanitized and cleaned). I will get to Costco first thing in the morning to try and get Clorox wipes. I will do my part to support nurses and doctors on the front lines (shout out to Kate and Alisa- you ladies are heroes). I will do ANYTHING to not have to ever see another person die on a ventilator whether it be COVID-19, the flu, or any other virus or disease or WHATEVER. If we could stop cancer by wearing a mask, wouldn’t we? I mean, come on… WOULDN’T WE? Why is this virus so hard to take seriously? Are you that untrusting of your country? The world? Of your friends and family? For that then, I am truly sorry for you.
Though you may not care if I die from COVID-19, I really hope you don’t. I want you to see what your disbelief has impacted. And I want you to live with it.
Grief is described in the dictionary as “very great sadness, especially at the death of someone.”
What about another form of grief? Grief that feels socially unacceptable, grief that is defined as grieving the loss of someone still alive. The term is relatively new to me but also so familiar, namingly ‘unconventional grief’. I argue that unconventional grief can simply be felt in normal everyday stages of life, especially when those stages come with unplanned, life altering, and dare I say, gut-wrenching changes.
** Before I tell you about what led me to my realization of how unconventional grief has manifested in my life, I want to acknowledge that sadness over the loss of a loved one is valid, heartbreaking, and painful. If you have lost someone you love, my heart and soul sympathizes with you. I am achingly aware that grief is ever evolving and never completely goes away.
My unconventional grief hit me hard at the age of 26 when my oldest brother informed me he was moving his family to Columbus, Ohio… 2,500 miles across the United States. My heart sank, my pulse quickened, and I was torn between showing excitement at my brother’s new opportunity and the overwhelming sadness pouring out of me. I pushed every emotion aside and toasted to my brother’s new adventure. Later that evening when I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, I told myself to stop. I thought about all the people I knew with family in other states and I told myself to suck it up, be happy for my brother, plan trips to visit them, and deal with it. In the months to follow I did suppress all of those emotions and focused on my brother’s family and their upcoming move. I helped them pack, I spent as much time with my little nieces and nephews as possible (see picture of me kissing my youngest niece), and I trained for a half marathon to distract myself/ try to deal with the pain I couldn’t control.
It wasn’t until years later that I finally acknowledged my legitimate grief during that season of life. What I wouldn’t do to go back and hug that 26 year old version of myself and tell her to allow herself to be sad and not to bottle it up.
Now when I hear of friends or family that are grieving a change in their life or a loved one moving away or their children growing up too quickly, I am the first to tell them that their unconventional grief is acceptable, understandable, and normal.
What unconventional grief have you bottled up?
Acknowledge it, allow yourself to be sad, cry, and simply feel it.
I promise the sadness will dissipate, you will find happiness again.
I feel A LOT of shame about this topic. Like, a lot. Everyone always talks about postpartum depression… but no one talks about depression DURING the pregnancy. It’s very real. And it feels very shameful.
For starters, I had a really tough pregnancy. On top of a lot of the regular things your body goes through, there are other things that can happen. For some, it’s no big deal and for others, it is a super big deal. Pregnancy wasn’t the experience I had hoped for- and that’s ok. I don’t look back and hate any of it, but I do acknowledge that because of those experiences, I am not sold on having a second kiddo.
**I want to say that I never felt any sadness about Rosemary during her time in my belly. She actually brought me a lot of peace. For this, I am grateful. I am grateful that I didn’t have any unhealthy anxiety over her or dark thoughts about her. She was my solace. I also want to say that my husband took such wonderful care of me during this time. He showed up to EVERY appointment, made sure I ate, and even drove me to therapy. He entertained guests so that I didn’t have to when I wasn’t feeling well. He was, and is to this day, my rock. Unfortunately, the following events are really tough for our family to talk about because of the fact that I was in such a dark spot. I know he shoulders a lot of responsibility (more than he should- but it’s who he is) and despite all the care and comfort he was indeed providing, it was not enough… and the hard truth for me to own is that I don’t know if anything would have qualified as enough. It isn’t logical… sometimes issues of mental health aren’t easily defined. I was not myself. I was not in a good place. I was in so much physical pain and tried to hide a lot of it from him. I was also very good at hiding a lot of my feelings from him because I didn’t want to burden him or bring him down into the trenches. Was keeping him out the right thing? Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe a lot of what I was feeling might have felt less… less crazy if I had let him in? Maybe I would have not felt so “dark?” Maybe. All I can say is that I am grateful for everything he did for me. He loves me more than I sometimes can comprehend. Israel is my better half and he always will be.**
The dark haze started when I was 4 months pregnant and more specifically, after a group of girlfriends visited me in Spain. Seeing my friends was so amazing and I had not realized how much I missed having fellowship with the women who knew me, accepted me, and lifted me up. I loved laughing, having super smart conversations, and showing them Spain. When they departed I realized how much I had adapted to being alone in Spain. Sure, I had Issy. And sure, I had friends… but it wasn’t the same and I didn’t realize how much my heart needed those women that loved me for me as me. I realize that may sound crazy but having people that knew me as my own self and had witnessed me grow up was actually essential. It validated me and made me realize how much I missed witnessing their lives and celebrating their successes and comforting them in times of need. I missed that fellowship. As I was processing that, my pregnancy started to get tougher. And as it got tougher, I felt more alone, more crazy, more unworthy, and more inconsequential. I knew something wasn’t right (years of working on my mental health finally paid off and I was able to notice some important signs). I think I also felt more alone than usual because I didn’t have my mom. That was hard for me. I couldn’t really talk to anyone the way I needed to talk to my mom. I didn’t have my mom and I didn’t have my friends.
It was in June of 2018 while we had company that my mental health got really bad. Part of it was what was going on inside of my brain and part of it was that I was left to myself a lot. Issy is a great host and took charge of showing off everything Valencia had to offer. I couldn’t do a lot of the things our guests and my husband were doing because I was just so damn uncomfortable and life in the Spanish heat made me more irritable. This is no one’s fault… I blame the sun and my ever persistent need to have to pee. It didn’t take a lot for me to just feel… inconsequential. I couldn’t rally to stay up late and hang out or go out and party with friends. I felt so lame. I was so tired (my exhaustion lasted through my whole pregnancy- it was super uncomfortable). Thus, I was alone. And when I could do things, I really didn’t want to. Truth be told, I wanted to… but I literally could not. I was blessed enough (insert an insane amount of sarcasm here) to have SPD, a kind of pelvis issue, starting in trimester 2. Walking literally hurt so bad I could feel my hips pulsing with pain and my pelvis grinding because they were so stiff. I was also lucky enough (NOT) to experience my first UTI during this time in the pregnancy… this would become 1 of 5 UTIs. AND NO- it’s not because I didn’t keep “it” clean. My girl, Rosemary, just liked to lean a certain way in my womb. Each time required an emergency visit to my doctor or the ER to check the intensity of it because it is not uncommon that an untreated or severe UTI can cause preterm labor. Luckily, mine were never that bad; just painful and treatable with an antibiotic… which I had to take… 5 times. Needless to say June was the start of me really not being ok. After having several bouts of painful Braxton Hicks contractions brought on by stress, I knew I needed to get some help.
Normally, getting help wouldn’t be a problem. BUT… I was in Spain. I relied on my husband for most of my translations with bigger things like medical stuff. I could shop, dine, taxi, and converse with neighbors and other NATO families just fine (with a little help here and there) by myself… but medical stuff… I could not. I needed a therapist. And I needed them to speak English. Luckily, I had the BEST doctor. Dra. Marisa Montesinos Carbonell is amazing and she was able to help find me one that did speak English. Talking to someone did help. More than anything, she made me feel not so crazy.
I still struggled. I didn’t feel like myself. And if I didn’t feel like myself, I know I wasn’t acting like myself. Issy won’t say this, because he is too kind, but I know he didn’t know what to do with me. I never wanted to take him away from the things that made him happy so I rarely ever said “no” to anything. I said yes to everything and ended up resenting those decisions. I didn’t want to go over to people’s houses and sit in the uncomfortable Spanish heat. I didn’t want to pretend I was happy when honestly, I wasn’t. I was so upset at doing things I didn’t want to do. I hated having to leave early so that I could go home and just sleep. AND, I hated doing that even more because I always went home by myself. It made me feel more alone and more screwed up. Honestly, it made me feel unworthy. That feeling alone is super complex to remember and it’s something I won’t be diving into right now. Even remembering this particular feeling is painful and brings me a lot of sadness. Normally, doing all of these regular things would have been fine… but between the pain and what was going on in my head, I was a mess. None of these feelings are a reflection of ANYONE who was in my life at the time. Truly. All of what I was feeling was a dark haze of crazy in my head. And I was lucky enough to recognize that… which is also why I did opt to be alone a lot (even if I struggled with that loneliness). To me, it was better to be alone and process my feelings than to drag anyone into it with me… including, the love of my life.
As my final month of pregnancy began, a lot of those feelings started to go away. Happiness began to feel more “normal.” I actually enjoyed being pregnant. Granted, I still had one last UTI and my hips were so stiff I could barely walk in the evenings after a long day without a few tears… but, I had a better handle on all of it. I also just had a feeling that everything was going to be ok and that those feelings and emotions I was struggling with were behind me. Thank goodness I was right. I ended up not having any postpartum depression. Sure, I had a few moments where I felt the surge of hormones but never anything extreme or beyond what I could reasonably handle with little effort. For that, I am grateful.
When I look back on my pregnancy, I get emotional. I suppose this is because I remember being depressed. I remember feeling alone, being treated differently, and being in so much physical pain ALL THE TIME. I don’t look back on the time with a lot of fond memories. With that said, I do look back with a little bit of longing. Feeling Rosemary in my belly was a constant. I felt her kicks early on. I felt her move and swish every day. She made me feel not alone. She made me feel happy and strong. That connection is something unique to her and I.
Something that my pregnancy experience also taught me was that everyone has an opinion. Everyone has an opinion about what your labor experience will be like, what you choose to feed the baby, the things you decide to purchase for the baby (and what they cost), and how you choose to parent. This is totally normal. Everyone is pulling from their own experiences to give you a story of what it looks like. Usually they mean well. Sometimes you can feel their judgement of your decisions and/or experience or even their desire to live vicariously through you. It was a little overwhelming and honestly, at times, irritating. It did teach me about what kind of support I want to be to friends who are pregnant. I don’t really care too much about how anybody does anything. I just want to be supportive! I want to be a safe place for someone to say, today is amazing and here is why OR to say, today sucks and here is what I am feeling. Sure I have opinions on baby swag and feeding stuff, but I don’t think anyone really cares… I am not putting my experience or preferences on anybody… unless they ask!
Currently, Rosemary is crying up a storm because I took the book “Go Dog Go” away from her. I didn’t want her using it as a teething toy. Obviously, I am an evil mama. Just kidding. She will get over it. She was worth it all. Every. Damn. Thing.
September 30th, 2018- the night before R was born.
When it comes to my day hiking essentials I have six years of field tested knowledge and a whole lot of research to make me super confident when suggesting my top three day hiking MVPs (and a bonus must-have).
I struggled with footwear for a long time. I have Saloman hiking boots but they were too much shoe for just a basic day hike. However, simple sneakers don’t do the trick either… enter in “trail or hiking shoes.” I bought a few pairs before asking a friend who completed the Pacific Crest Trail what she recommended. Her answer was simple and definitive… Altra Lone Peaks.
I know, I know, not everyone likes trekking poles and I was one of those people for a long time. There are still some hikes that I opt not to use them but I ALWAYS bring them. Going down steep areas on the trail is where I learned to love trekking poles and use them wisely. Now they are just a normal part of my day hiking trips and an even more essential part of backpacking adventures.
Daypacks can vary but I would say it is safe to choose a pack that is between 15-25 liters depending on what you plan on bringing. I like the happy middle of 18 or 20 liter packs to bring on day hikes. It is super important that the pack has a hydration bladder included so that you can fill it up and stay hydrated throughout your hike. There are a lot of amazing backpacks to choose from so why did I suggest an Osprey? I hear so many great things consistently about the Osprey daypacks that I linked one here. Other brands I love are Camelbak, Patagonia, and Arc’teryx.
Bonus recommendation: Therm-a-Rest Z-Seat Pad so you can comfortably sit anywhere and it is super lightweight. You can thank me later!
Also don’t go on a hike without the 10 Essentials, what are 10 Essentials? Read this great article by SheJumps here!
Enjoy getting outside!
*This is NOT SPONSORED by anyone! These are my opinions alone and you should consult professionals with any other hiking questions or concerns you may have.*
Okay, so this isn’t actually my recipe! This gem belongs to my father, Gary. Growing up, Gary didn’t cook a whole lot. He had a few go-to favorites that my sister and I tired of quickly and easily. For example, I am fine NEVER eating hamburger pie again. With that said, my dad makes a mean clam chowder, egg drop soup, and, well, enchilada pie casserole.
This is a wonderful recipe to feed a crowd of people or make and have as leftovers throughout the week. You can totally modify anything below… for example, we grilled the chicken breasts instead of baked them. You can season with different spices you like or use flour tortillas instead of corn! This is super easy and sure to please your friends and fam!
What you need: 4 or 5 boneless chicken breasts Salt Pepper Paprika Chili Powder Chili Quick (can be hard to find so chili powder is just fine) 1 regular size yellow onion 1 can cream of chicken soup 1 can cream of mushroom 2.5 cups of water 1 package of corn tortillas Shredded cheese (amount is up to you and your preference on cheese)
How to make it: Preheat oven to 350F Season your chicken breasts with salt, pepper, paprika and salt Place in a regular casserole pan, cover with foil and bake for about 1 hour ** For the last ten minutes, remove the foil Cut chicken breasts into cube size pieces and set aside Dice up onion In one large pot, add can of cream of chicken soup and can of cream of mushroom soup and reuse those cans by filling them each up with water and adding that water to the pot. Heat up and add chicken and diced onions Add your chili powder or chili quick and add to taste Let everything heat together in pot for about 4-5 minutes on medium heat ** If the mixture seems too thick, add a little more water as needed and stir Cut up your package of corn tortillas into fourths (you can use the whole package or less- this is really up to you- I like a whole package for substance) Layer your casserole dish with the corn tortilla fourths, and then cover with chicken mixture and a handful (or more) of cheddar cheese, repeat this about 3 times ** If you have room for a fourth layer, do it! Cover with foil and place back into oven to cook at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes ** For the last ten minutes, remove the foil
Please note, this is not the healthiest of recipes but it’s great for feeding a crowd or enjoying some comfort food. Eat hearty!
Not long ago I was in Palm Springs on vacation. My time-of-the-month decided to come a few days early and I felt bloated and HUGE. I was hot, sticky, and trying to figure out what to wear from my limited quick-weekend-trip wardrobe. I stared at myself in the mirror not pleased at the reflection and started some serious negative self talk. Subconsciously, I was tearing apart my body, extra fat, and curves; thinking how I ‘really’ need to snack less and eat more salads. The negative self talk took me down a spiral but somehow I snapped out of it. I acknowledged that I was in fact mentally destroying my body in the mirror. I knew it had to stop.
A few weeks prior I had seen an Instagram post by Lizzo and in the post she is wearing a black top and red shorts looking at herself saying, “First of all, WHO TOLD YOU, YOU COULD BE SO CUTE? WHOOOO? WHO TOLD YOU, YOU COULD BE SO CUTE?!…WHO TOLD YOU?!!! Damn!” Her caption also stating, “Every time u walk by a mirror I want you to hear this.” So in the mirror, wearing a bathing suit top, rolls proudly showing, stomach bloated and unhappy, I turned side to side and kept saying the Lizzo mantra of “Who told you, you could be this cute?” I am not kidding, my confidence skyrocketed in a matter of seconds, I threw on a cute beach wrap and waltzed out of the room. When my friends saw me they all complimented my adorable swimsuit and sheer beach wrap. Their compliments didn’t matter! What mattered was that I knew I was cute. I knew my body was strong, healthy, and beautiful as it was. Thanks to Lizzo my self-deprecation did NOT win.
As women, this seems to be an unfair universal and daily struggle. Lately I have referenced this above mantra in several conversations with my girlfriends (as our conversations tend to veer towards our own body self loathing- which we need to be better about stopping). The unfortunate fact is that it doesn’t matter how overweight or fit we are, it is a societal norm to hate our bodies. Another trick I learned from several people (too many to reference) is talking to you yourself as you would a younger version of yourself. Would you be so harsh? Would you be so mean? The first step is acknowledging that you are not being nice to yourself. The second step is stopping. The third step is apologizing to yourself and then showing yourself some love. Wear something that makes you feel good, talk nicely to that part of you that you dislike, speak with gratitude, don’t make empty promises to yourself about working out more or eating less…just stop and LOVE yourself. It is the single most impactful thing you can do that will change your life moment by moment, daily, and hopefully forever. It’s not too late to LIZZO LOVE on yourself!
WHO TOLD YOU, YOU COULD BE THIS CUTE?!!!!!!! – Lizzo
Vitamix If you do not own a Vitamix, I have to tell you that you are missing out. I love my Vitamix. From smoothies, salad dressings, to soup this machine is my go-to. I make my homemade almond milk with it multiple times a week. The price can often scare people away and I can’t say I blame them. It IS a big investment. If you can, keep your eye out for them at Costco around the holiday time. The usually have an exclusive deal with them that gives you some great bang for your buck. That’s what ended up happening to us when our old one finally bit the dust last November.
The Vitamix is a great way to get more fruits and veggies in your diet (hello, morning smoothies) and is also a great way to cut down on all of your kitchen gadgets. There is no need for a blender or food processor… we have it all in one machine. We literally use it for EVERYTHING.
CORKCICLE I use my CORKCICLE every single day. I was actually gifted the sport canteen model by my cousin one year for Christmas and I have never gone back. I love that it keeps my water super cold and my warm liquids warm. I drink upwards of 12 cups of water every day so I am constantly refilling my tumbler up… and I am that super picky person who likes cold water… not lukewarm water… cold water. Thanks to my CORKCICLE tumbler, we no longer run through ice at crazy rates.
My husband and I also use the stemless cups. They are so awesome for wine and cocktails. I love the comfort of holding them and being able to take them outside without worrying about glass breaking. As a chronically clumsy person, this is very important.
Essential Oil Diffuser I LOVE to diffuse oils. My house always smells fresh and clean. There are a ton of models out there that range from $$$$$ to $. I personally love any model that also has a light of sorts in it. It makes it nice to use as a night light in my daughter’s room. Here are a few of the different kinds I have used over the years:
I should note that it goes without saying that I cannot live without both my Nespresso and french press…. Without these things I would not function… so these aren’t must-haves… these are like an extension of me… an essential part of me needed to live… must… have… coffee.
The Salty Exchange 