Tag: Family

Shari’s Birth Story

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It feels a little surreal to write this. I read so many birth stories leading up to my own experience that they all seemed to blend together. As an Event Planner by profession, I kept reminding myself that every birth is a highly anticipated event… it starts, it happens, it’s over, and you recover. Like my pregnancy, I was hoping for a fairly textbook birth and for the most part that is exactly what I got. But so. much. better. I finally got to meet Koralyn and there are truly no words for that moment. I certainly had none. She was perfect, her dimples melted me instantly, and every ounce of energy and intensity that her birth took was worth it. Here is the story of my labor and Koralyn’s arrival.

My birth story starts 9 days past my due date (which was July 8th, 2022), we planned an induction on Sunday, July 17th. Alex and I arrived at the hospital at 7:45 am. A nurse came in and hesitantly asked me if I was okay having “Hilary” as my nurse, it took me a moment to realize that she was referring to MY FRIEND, Hilary. Ummm yes I want her as my nurse! Honestly it took a little of my nerves away knowing that I had a friend there with me (along with my husband and mom). It took several failed attempts and eventually calling the specialist to come get my IV put in (Hilary opted not to poke me so none of those tries were done by her). The whole IV port process took nearly 3 hours,  thanks to my deep veins apparently. At some point during the IV debacle my mom arrived. Around 11 am we started the Pitocin. Hilary increased it every 30 minutes until my contractions showed they were moving along nicely. Bored, Alex, my mom, and I sat there chatting watching my contractions increase and joking about how long this process was going to take. Eventually Alex propped up his phone and we watched an episode of “Skinwalker Ranch” (the first season is on Netflix… so good!). I sat on the round inflatable ball bouncing while eating a popsicle. Not long after the episode ended around 1:50 pm, I was enjoying the second half of my popsicle when I suddenly I felt the GUSH. My water broke! It was like a scene from a movie; water surrounding me, pure shock on my face, and everyone in disbelief over the amount of liquid on the floor. CLEANUP ON AISLE THREE!!! Hilary laughed right along with us and helped me get out of my soaking wet leggings and clothing. 

The next few hours were a blur for me as my contractions went from super manageable to more intense and painful. After a few contractions brought literal tears to my eyes (I like to think I have a high pain tolerance), I gave my mom and husband a look of defeat… “I think I want an epidural.” Hilary, came to confirm and I started to cry a little. She asked me if it was because I was in pain or if it was because of asking for the epidural or both… crying a little harder I said “both”. It was true. I wanted to be stronger, I wanted to labor naturally, BUT I had always been open to having an epidural (especially after being induced) – I just truly thought labor wasn’t going to be so instantaneously rough. The best way I can describe the intensity of the contractions (at that point) was sharp but dense pain that reverberated through my whole entire body. Similar to cramps but way more intense and add in an entire body experience that makes your eyes water and your teeth clinch even through concentrated breath work. Although I felt defeated by the waves of pain, I reminded myself that this was all a part of my birth plan, it was okay, normal, and all that mattered was getting the baby out safely. Why not do so with a little help from an epidural? 

The epidural was quick and painless, it worked effectively on my left side but my right side was barely numb. Thanks to my Birth Class I knew that the epidural moves and disperses with gravity so if I leaned to my right side it would help the epidural numb that area, which it totally did. At this point it was after 4 pm and I was a solid 5 hours into labor. I had progressed incrementally with dilation and effacement but felt like I still had a long way to go. Contractions had settled some and the epidural was doing its job, I relaxed enough to realize I was hungry but I wasn’t allowed many options. My dinner consisted of chicken broth and ANOTHER popsicle (man, those popsicles sure tasted good!). I met my new nurse who came onto shift at 7 pm and said good-bye to Hilary. Bummed that she didn’t get to help deliver Koralyn, I was so thankful to have her by my side through those first hours of laboring and the epidural. 

My new nurse, Anna, chatted with me about hiking and I instantly liked her. Alex took a few photos as we joked about the names of the positions I was laboring in… one was called “The Throne” and I kinda felt like a very pregnant queen, ha. Anna, Alex, and my mom helped me change positions, because of the epidural I was numb and my legs were like tree trunks, moving me was a team effort. My contractions remained consistent. At some point in the next hour or two I transitioned… my mom was there and ready for her moment to hand me the blue bag to vomit into, she knew I would get nauseous and most likely throw up. How did she know? Because she always did during her labor transitions. Like mother, like daughter… I definitely threw up. I wasn’t prepared for the uncontrollable shivering, my body reacting to birth in a way I never thought it would. I sat there shivering looking at my husband like, “What is wrong with me?” 

At this point, all the signs were there for my nurse to check me and see how far along I had progressed. Sure enough at 10 pm, I was 10 cm dilated, 100% effaced and ready to start pushing. They called my OB and she told them to wait until she arrived for me to start pushing. I remember feeling pressure in the beginning and middle of my contractions. I focused on that feeling and knew that was my body’s natural rhythm. At 10:45 pm my OB had arrived and we started the continuous game of push for a count of 10 – in the same position for at least 4-5 pushes – then switch positions and start over again and that routine is what I FOCUSED everything on. After pushing for 2 hours, my OB got called out to the hallway. Based on hospital policy they don’t like women to push for over 3 hours. However, my blood pressure was good and the baby’s heart rate was steady so there wasn’t any cause for concern. I kept pushing and my doctor declined their offer to prep the OR. She told me later that she said, “My girl is getting this baby out in the next hour!”

When my OB came back after that conversation out in the hallway she turned into a vocal cheerleader and I am not joking when I say the whole room turned into a cheering match. I had been laboring for just over 13 hours at that point and pushing for 2, I was ready. I found a position that felt strong and I stayed there counting through contractions with my mom and my husband by my side. My OB grabbed my hand to touch Koralyn’s head (even though I didn’t think I would want to) it gave me the motivation I needed to get her out completely. I knew I was close when I saw my mom and husband tearing up. We were about to meet our little girl.  Koralyn got cheered into the world at 1:57 am. A little over 3 hours of pushing to get my girl earth side and it was worth every – hunched over, count to ten, burst of energy – moment.

She was placed on my stomach in what felt like an instant but they somehow managed to wipe her down and cut my top so quickly I didn’t even notice. Everything happened so fast and then slowed down to a very intimate and calm introduction. I held Koralyn, looking at her sweet face and then peering up at my husband and mom saying, “I did it, we did it, she is here! Look at these dimples!” I barely noticed delivering the placenta and Alex cutting the cord. I remember wanting them to weigh her but they insisted I take my full hour of post-birth skin to skin time. It was blissful. We stayed another day so they could check all of her (and my) vitals and take some tests before we got the clearance to go home.

I don’t think I would have believed you if you told me that would be our story but I am so thankful and grateful that it is. A positive birth experience is what I was hoping for and exactly what I got. The real postpartum didn’t start until after we left the hospital and I will save all those details for another blog.

Kendall: How to Be a Good House Guest

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Photo by Andrew Neel on Pexels.com

So last week, I blogged about prepping for house guests! With the world opening up, gathering together is going to be a thing again! If you are hosting, check out my tips and tricks for preparing for friends and family. IF you are the friend or family member visiting, let me give you some ideas on how to be a good guest… and therefore, be welcomed back again!

The first thing you need to identify is: WHY are you visiting someone? Is it for pleasure? Is there a purpose? For example, are you going to take care of someone who is sick? Visiting a new baby? Hanging with friends? The reason for your visit will dictate much of your trip. Let’s dive in to a few different scenarios and identify some good tips for being not just a good house guest, but a freaking GREAT one.

Trip Purpose: Caring for Your Grandmother, Sick Relative/Friend, etc.
When caring for anyone who is elderly or sick can be difficult. This isn’t always a super fun trip but more a trip of agency. In most cases, you aren’t really the guest but the caregiver. As such, you need to have a full understanding of the person’s situation. Is someone sick with cancer? Elderly? Dementia? Get educated on everything you can. Ask questions. When you get there, jump into helping with meals, cleaning, laundry, etc. Be considerate. Cook nutritious meals. It’s amazing what eating well can do for a person’s health both physically and mentally. Clean up after meals. Maintain order and a routine. While this might be a bit boring, it is most helpful to whoever is sick or in need of care. Get the numbers of all doctors and keep them taped up somewhere in case you need contact them. Know where the local pharmacy is. Ask where they like to get their hair cut or nails done and help them make appointments. This bit of normalcy makes a huge difference when someone has or is loosing a bit of their independence. My last bit of advice here is to NOT ADD TO THE MESS. Set the boundary with yourself that you are in someone else’s space. Respect it. Clean it. Don’t stockpile on things. Keep it simple.

Trip Purpose: Visiting Friends or Family
Excited to actually hug someone you love? Yeah, I think we all relate. When visiting someone, ask if there is anything you can bring. Check to see if they have any plans that might require things like extra cold/warm weather items. Do you need to reserve a spot for rock climbing or can you look into a bike rental? HOW can you help them prepare for YOU! Once there, help out a bit. Take your dishes to the sink, try and keep your space somewhat tidy. Respect the space you are in. You don’t need to go all “me” and clean up everything every day, but you do need to read your host. Are they struggling to get all the dishes washed? Do they need help taking the dog out? A lot of things will depend on HOW long you are staying. If you are only staying a few days, just try to be present and in the moment and ask what you can do on your way out. I love it when guests strip their beds and form a pile of used sheets and towels. This makes it easy for me to drop everything in the washer. My dad (depending on his flight time) will even start the load of linens for me. He understands my OCD heart. If you are staying for 3-5 days, pitch in with dishes. If you are staying beyond 5 days, ask what your host needs. Do they like linens washed once a week? I do. Can you contribute to the grocery bill? Help watch the kids while your host(s) make dinner? Water some plants? Actually make a meal? To put it simply, ask and then be willing to jump in. We usually don’t ask for a lot… maybe watching the kiddo while I cook dinner. BUT I do like to be asked. It shows you are considerate and understand that we are trying to make your trip a fun one.

Trip Purpose: A New Baby
There is a new little human in your life. Whether you are a friend or family, this is a BIG event! It’s also a really beautiful time for a family and they may want to share that joy with you. Remember, this visit isn’t so much about entertaining you… What I mean is, don’t expect your host(s) to be up making breakfast, whipping out some lunch, and creating a Michelin star dinner for you. In fact, you should really be helping out here. Pitch in. The parent(s) do not need you to hold the baby 24/7. Believe it or not, that is RARELY helpful. In fact, this is a time that is so essential for baby to bond with their humans. Start some laundry? Make a dinner? Help with clean up before you go? Play with another kiddo in the household? YES. YES. YES. YES. Something else to consider is (coming out of a pandemic) if the people you are visiting care about vaccines or not. Personally, I do. You may not and that’s fine. But the question you need to ask is if your hosts care and what you can do. Babies have super low immune systems at the beginning. They can get deathly sick from a kiss if you have a cold sore… SO, ask. For example: We care. If you are going to be visiting, I would prefer you be vaccinated with the COVID, flu, and TDAP vaccines. If you are looking to debate me on this- go ahead. I will not be engaging. Are you sick with a bad cold? Reschedule your trip. From my perspective, I have just worked my butt off to keep this baby safe and healthy and that feeling doesn’t go away. With the world opening up again, I do understand that there are still going to be risks and exposures… I don’t need to add to if you are going to be spending multiple days in my home. There is no such thing as full proof… I know. This is just our line of defense in these early and precious days of our newborn.

Whatever you are traveling for and wherever you are traveling to, assess the situation. Everyone is different and has different needs or wants. Do you want to just relax at your friend’s house? Do you want to get out and go leaf peeping (yes, this is a thing)? Be honest with your host so that they can properly prepare for your stay. Notice a cool restaurant you want to try? Mention it! Once there, enjoy seeing whoever it is you are seeing. After two years, we are all ready for a little connection. Also be prepared that people might be a bit changed. Did your BFF usually want to go out and go crazy for a night? Maybe they aren’t ready yet. Don’t pressure them. You can still have a wild night in. Are you all ready to get out and go DO stuff? So are others! See if you need reservations anywhere… for dinner, bikes… a camp spot, etc.

Stay safe and have fun!


Shari’s Initial Thoughts on Pregnancy

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This week we did something big, we finally publicly announced our pregnancy. Most of our family and friends already knew and it wasn’t some huge secret but I didn’t want to post anything on social media (or The Salty Exchange) until after we got to see our little girl on the 20 week anatomy ultrasound. This ultrasound was the first time we got to see our baby since the 6 week ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy. Why is it that women aren’t able to have ultrasounds once a month at their OB appointments, huh? There are quite a few issues I have surrounding medical care in regards to pregnancy but I will save that for another blog post and I am sure Kendall will gladly chime in, ha!

My first trimester (like most women) involved several weeks of nausea. The best way I could describe it was 24/7 flu but without throwing up, just nauseous and achy… ALL THE DAMN TIME! After 2 weeks of that I called my doctor to request some pregnancy safe anti-nausea medicine because I was starting to feel depressed by how awful I felt. The only words of comfort to me at the time were, “In most cases, sickness is directly correlated to good fetal health,” or, “Just take the anti-nausea medicine, if someone judges you they have their own issues.” Luckily this part only lasted four weeks for me (weeks 6 – 11 of pregnancy) which happened to be during Thanksgiving time. By Christmas I was almost in my second trimester and already feeling better. The aversions to certain foods persisted into my second trimester but not nearly as nauseous inducing as they had been. My poor husband couldn’t eat ANY meat around me, which was hard for him because he is still eating pretty clean and that includes a lot of meat and veggies.

Along those lines, I now understand why women eat fairly terribly during pregnancy and it is honestly because NOTHING sounds or looks or smells good. I had these lofty dreams of eating salads and smoothies and making nutritious meals but when my nausea hit, I could barely make toast, let alone think of something nutritious that didn’t make me queasy. All that to say, I am glad that part of pregnancy is behind me although some women say some nausea comes back in the third trimester, I am hoping that isn’t the case for me. Another thing I’ve realized is that pregnancy is so incredibly different from person to person. My experience could be relatable to some and not to others. Some women brag about their easy pregnancies and what they credit their lack of symptoms to but that isn’t fair because not everyone will have the same experience and every experience is valid. Kendall told me multiple times when I was in the thick of my nausea, she told me to remember this part of pregnancy because too often women forget how hard and awful those moments are because they don’t last forever. I think that was some of the best advice because I can now empathize with other women in their first trimester who are dealing with the sickness that can accompany major body changes and fetal development. It’s no joke and it was helpful for me to know that I wasn’t in it alone and that other women understood my discomfort.

Now I transition into the latter part of my pregnancy journey. The end of the second trimester and onto the third which will be followed by (drum roll please) the birth of our baby girl. I am trying to stay open and positive about birth but I am not going to lie, that part of the process is intimidating too. I keep reminding myself that women are created for this. This week, seeing baby in the ultrasound reminded me that we are made to create, grow, and give life. Women are amazing. I am amazing. My body is doing something I can’t even fathom, honestly. Baby had her little hands in her face during the ultrasound, opening and closing her mouth… I could envision her doing that outside the womb with cute coo’s and baby squeaks to accompany those precious movements. I cannot wait to meet her, hold her and watch her grow, but I am also stopping in this moment to enjoy the process happening inside me; so intricate, so beautiful, and so primal. Pregnancy is wild. What an adventure!

Baby Girl – 20 weeks

Kendall: The Motherhood Saga Continued…

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Being a mom to a toddler is a bit of an emotional roller coaster. On any given day you can be loved, kicked, screamed at, snuggled with, cherished, or hated. It’s a total mind f^#$. 

My toddler is so… smart. She knows her numbers, colors, shapes, and emotions. But as a toddler she also completely lacks the skills to instantly recognize her feelings and then act appropriately. To be fair, we probably all know some adults that are like this. Regardless, she is fascinating. Watching her little brain learn and process things is a total privilege. Albeit, one that sometimes requires me to hide in the pantry for a five minute sanity break. 

She wants space but all she wants are snuggles. Her desire for independence is only eclipsed by her panic that comes on when she realizes I am not in the living room but upstairs swapping out the laundry. As her dad and I have gotten to know more of who she is becoming we have been left with lots of questions. Are we doing enough? Are we being taken seriously as her parents? How do we address certain behavioral issues that are TOTALLY normal for a toddler? How do we give her independence with boundaries? How do we teach her that it’s okay to have lots of feelings and the words to express those feelings? How do we not overly validate everything so that she learns and doesn’t just become some jerk of an adult? The questions are endless and the answers are few. 

Some days it feels like I get nothing right. Others, it feels like I am “on” and totally winning the whole motherhood game. What I have learned about myself is this: I am enough. My daughter has shown me that through all of her tantrums, joys, games, laughs, and frustrations that I am enough. She loves me, forgives me, and encourages me. When you receive that from a child, it totally changes you… at least it has for me! I was never certain about being a mom. I thought I might be too selfish to really be any good at it. Loving Rosemary has made me a more giving and kind person.

Being a mom is just one part of who I am. Yet at present as a stay at home mom, it is sort of the most dominant part of myself. Every part of my day centers around my daughter. I am a glorified chef, playmate, nurse, and therapist to my three year old. Where in all of that stuff am I? Does it even matter? Well, yes, it does matter. When I have consistent breaks, I mother better. I am more patient, tender, and level headed. Finding moments to take breaks is hard. They won’t always be, but right now they are. With Issy working and in grad school, our routine is different. He is working his butt off to achieve something really wonderful; something I understand. Higher education is a total privilege and worth the blood, sweat, and tears. When I was in grad school, I didn’t have a lot of support. I handled working and school all on my own without a cheerleader. Being there for my husband is really important to me. This crazy time in our life will pass. Very soon actually! What will we do when he has all of his free time back? Don’t worry- I have a list for him! Haha. And it’s one he can’t wait to jump on. We will also have a new baby and therefore, a whole new dynamic to figure out. It’s daunting. But, together, we have always figured it all out.

Things are going to change a lot in the next few months. Who I am as a mother will change. The saga will continue. I’ll keep you updated.

Kendall and Issy’s Love Letter to Their Daughter

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Dearest Valentine,

You are exceptional. Whether we are snuggling or playing with your kitchen set, you always have time for a kiss. You share your food without complaint. No one gives hugs quite like you. Your eagerness to learn everything is inspirational.

This Valentine’s Day we want you to know that you hold our hearts. You’ve seen us be great parents… and you have seen us fail as we scramble to keep up with your toddler heart. You, dear one, have shown us what it means to love fully and unconditionally. We knew love before you but we didn’t really understand how deep love could go. It is a whole other level of being that we were never aware existed. You are incredibly fearless, smart, and beautiful. We want to give you everything we can. So, on this day of love and every day, please know that you inspire us to be better, driven, and loving. You are our hearts walking around outside of our bodies. We know you don’t understand that, but trust mama and daddy when we say, that’s the ultimate power. 

Keep dancing, singing, coloring, running, creating, and being you. You are the perfect Valentine. We love you oh so much. We love you to and through the delta quadrant and back. A million times. 

Love,

Mama and Daddy

Kendall’s Tips and Tricks for a Visit to the ER With Your Little One

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Kendall’s Tips and Tricks for a Visit to the ER With Your Little One

Welp, it happened folks. After 3 plus years with a relatively healthy kiddo, we had our first run to the ER this week. Actually, we had two. Let me catch you up…

Early Thursday morning, around 12:30am, I woke up to my monitor going off. Rosemary was crying. Normally, she puts herself right back to sleep. After five minutes though, I knew I needed to check on her. When I walked in, it hit me: the smell… the smell of barf. I had managed to get three years, three months, and 13 days without any vomit other than the occasional spit up when Rosemary was a baby. As they say, my time had come. What followed was a harrowing 5 hours of flying chunks, sips of water that wouldn’t stay down, and a creeping fear that something was wrong. At 5:15 my husband and I knew that we needed to call the pediatrician’s office. Even though it was early, we are lucky enough to have an answering team on standby. By 5:30ish we were instructed to get Rosemary to the emergency room. Since she wasn’t even able to keep a sip of water down, the primary worry was dehydration. We pulled it together and got ready to go. I had enough sense to pack a bag of extra clothes for Rosemary, grab the iPad, and a few books. And off we went to the University of Vermont’s Emergency Department (Main Campus).

Here is where I will gush to you all: UVM is amazing. They had a super efficient check-in process that was made even easier by the fact that we were the only ones there (because, you know it was early AF). Once checked in, the staff was so incredibly gentle and patient with a scared and sick toddler. They even gave her a little kitty stuffed animal that is now lovingly called Kitty Teddy. This small act put her at ease (well as much as you can ask a toddler to be put at ease in a situation like this). Calls for an abdominal ultrasound to rule out any kind of obstruction (specifically, they were looking for Intussusception) were called for. Confirming this wasn’t COVID was paramount so a lovely swab test was also ordered. Rosemary was given some Zofran to help with nausea and to keep her food/water down. The ultrasound took a little bit longer than we thought but it was EXTREMELY thorough. While we waited for those results, Nurse Maggie was tasked with the unfortunate duty of getting the COVID swab from Rosemary. She was so patient and kind and with our help of keeping Rosemary’s hands away from her face, it was done in no time (FYI: it was negative!). While we waited for the ultrasound results, we turned “Vivo” on on my cell phone and let Rosemary relax. Once we were given the all clear that she was ok and probably just fighting a GI infection, we were sent home with a prescription for Zofran and instructions to come back if things didn’t get better.

That’s how we ended up in the ER again on Friday morning at pretty much the same time as the day before. My poor little girl still couldn’t keep anything down- not even a sip of water. She was lethargic but managed to find her toddler strength to resist the ER staff from examining her. This crew of health care professionals were used to kids and could not have been better for our situation. It was decided that in order to fight whatever viral crud she had, she needed to have strength. To have strength she needed fluids to keep her hydrated. Watching Rosemary get a hydration IV was… well… heartbreaking. Not only was she scared of vomiting and already a little traumatized, now they were inserting a needle in her arm. But ever the little warrior (which she totally gets from Issy), she soldiered through. Watching “Vivo” on my iPad definitely helped. The wonderful ladies who were treating her were so gosh darn gentle and understanding of what it is like to help a small and feisty child. They were like shining goddesses of patience. Anyways, after some time, she was able to keep down a popsicle and we were given the all clear to head home, maintain the Zofran regime, and watch for further signs of dehydration. We were given great tips on what to do if she got sick again (please note every kid and case is different so please refer to a medical professional for discharge advice) and when to go back. Luckily, she is on the mend and has been doing so much better. Sometimes, kiddos just get sick and need a little help to get them back on the right track!

After two consecutive trips to the ER, here are my tips and tricks for your (and your kids) survival: 

  • Bring distractions like books, a charged iPad with a show or movie downloaded, and something familiar like a stuffed animal and/or blanket. These things help to distract them and make them feel a little less stressed out.
  • Snacks and water are a must to throw into your bag- after all who knows how long you will be there.
  • Pack a change of clothes/diapers just in case you need them. If you are going to the ER chances are that there is some kind of bodily fluid involved- so think ahead!
  • Have your information ready to go. Don’t be so frazzled that you can’t answer the health care team’s questions. For the sake of your kiddo, have your ducks in a row so that they can get right into treating your loved one. This is a strength of mine; I may feel frazzled but I rarely ever show that in a stressful situation… think cool like a cucumber. 
  • ASK questions as they come up. This may be a bit annoying but will help you understand the road your medical team is taking you down. They can then make sure you really understand and are comfortable with their treatment plan.
  • Don’t be an a%%. Yup, don’t be an a%%. If you are stressed out and a jerk, you really aren’t helping anyone. Did you know in all of our rooms that we had to visit there were signs on the wall about how you can’t assault a healthcare professional? Look, if you have to be told that, then you need to seek some help. You are not only hindering the care of whoever it is you are there for, but your temper just makes you look unreasonable- not the person helping you. If you are annoyed, take a deep breath and revert back to my tip up above: ASK questions. 
  • Bring chargers for your devices. Like I said above, you never know how long you will be there.

Just remember, keep calm. Your kiddo needs you to be strong and sure for them. You got this!

Kendall: Rosemary is Turning 3!

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Three years ago, my husband and I were living in Valencia, Spain. I was heavily pregnant. I had stopped sleeping well. My ankles had pretty much disappeared. I was so swollen it hurt. The past 9 months had been tough on me. There was no glow, little joy, and a lot (like, a lot) of nausea. Depression had dominated two thirds of the pregnancy term. Despite all of that, I knew I was going to love my daughter and that the darkness I had lived in would lift. There was a deep sense of certainty in my mind that it would all work out. And just like that, on October 1st, 2018, it did. 

I won’t bore ya with the details of my labor. It was hard. It was scary. It was amazing. When I heard Rosemary cry for the first time, my heart did this thing. A flutter, joyful kind of pitter patter took over my body. All of a sudden, she was not just a being living in my womb… she was solid matter in my arms. 

Rosemary and me right after she was born.

Rosemary is… amazing. Amazingly smart. Amazingly beautiful. Amazingly annoying. Amazingly human. She is unbothered by the trials of the past 18 months. She cares most about balls (of any kind really), Frozen, books, books, books, and walks around the neighborhood. Scaling the ladders at the park are her new thing and I am a little terrified. Her independence is in full bloom. And while I am delighted to see this kind of growth, I also feel scared. At present, Issy and I make her decisions. Her care is ours. Sure, she has opinions but what we say goes. What happens when that changes and she actually cares about the socks she is going to wear or the vegetable she is going to eat? I am so not ready for that. But, I know it’s coming whether I am ready or not. 

SO. Her third birthday is approaching. How am I doing? Despite being totally freaked out that she is already three, I am happy. I am happy that she is relatively normal… though a little lacking in the sharing department with other kids… Rosemary is a wonderful kid. She loves to be active. She has begun to hop everywhere. It’s incredibly sweet. As we plan for her birthday weekend, we feel a lot of joy with our little family. She has already received gifts from a TON of people and I am contemplating giving her something new each day between now and the end of the weekend so as to not overwhelm her with anything on her big birthday day (Christmas of 2020 was a bit overstimulating for her and we have learned our lesson). She only turns three once and the chances that she will remember it are slim- but we still want to give her as much joy as we can! My heart is full when I think ahead of all that is going to come for her in the following year. I have a feeling she will rock ski lessons in the winter, be successful at preschool in the spring and swim fiercely during the summer. I. Love. Her. 

Happy Birthday, my little goose!

Shari: Family Reunited

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Shari: Family Reunited

I contemplated not sharing this story because it is so new and extremely personal. The irony of that sentence is that it goes against all the reasons we started The Salty Exchange. We started this blog to get personal, to be vulnerable, and to share stories in order to relate and connect with anyone who follows along. So here it goes… after 60 years apart, my mom reunited with her half brothers Joe and Eric in June (this year) and I met my uncles for the first time a few weeks ago.

It is a tragic and confusing story as to why Joe and Eric were sent into foster care. A story that doesn’t reflect well on my grandma (no matter which way you try to explain it) but we suspect it was the fact that she had a mixed and blended family which was a bit unprecedented at the time. Regardless, they were just little kids; my mom was 6 years old, Joe was 4, and Eric was only 2. My mom fiercely loved her brothers and one day while she was at school (or so her mother thought), the state workers came and picked up her brothers. They coaxed Joe away with the promise of food. My mom knew something was happening that day and skipped school to hide in the bushes, she cried watching her brothers get taken. 

I will spare you from the details of what life was like for my mom. She had a rough childhood and there was never a moment when she didn’t think about her sweet little brothers. My grandma told her she was never allowed to talk about Joe and Eric. I know…  too much to demand of a 6 year old but my mom was scared just enough to obey. My mom had two older half brothers and besides Joe and Eric she had another two younger half brothers. Six brothers in total. 

Growing up my mom never kept secrets from us, I knew my entire life that I had six uncles (not four) and that Joe and Eric were out there somewhere. Their names would make it into my nightly prayers and I dreamed of meeting them someday. In 2019, my grandma passed away and a few months later I asked my mom if she was going to start the search for her brothers. She said she didn’t know where to begin and honestly thought maybe they didn’t want to be found.

Fast forward to this Spring 2021… My aunt was calling old adoption agencies and around the same time my mom saw an ad on Facebook called People Whiz. My mom typed in her brother’s birth name and birth date (yes, that is how much they meant to her that after 60 years she still remembered these details). Sure enough Joe’s name popped up and connected to it was Eric’s name and details. My mom quickly realized that they still lived in the same state, they still had their birth names, and Eric had kids. My aunt and mom joined forces and the plan to contact them began.

They eventually found out that my uncles are ‘mountain men’ who have little to no service at their property. My aunt made contact with Eric’s daughter and although she was skeptical (who wouldn’t be) she realized that this contact was from a legitimate family member and the process of reuniting these siblings began. Thankfully Joe and Eric were receptive and excited when Eric’s daughter told them the news. Apparently Joe had tried and failed to find their family previously (which makes sense because my mom’s name changed when my grandma re-married). Before their reunion in June of this year I was talking to my mom and I asked her how she was feeling about everything. With tears in her eyes she said she felt really excited and a little nervous.

I’d like to take a moment to note that I’ve really struggled with my mom’s life story. I can’t quite fathom how her childhood could have been so awful yet she is the most beautiful person inside and out that I’ve ever met. It makes me angry when people dismiss her. My mom has a quiet but sincere presence and is the least demanding person I know. I pay close attention to how my family and friends interact with her and treat her. These days I can clearly see how my mom broke the cycle of abuse and neglect by raising us the opposite of what she experienced; she was and still is the absolute best mom. My brothers and I consider ourselves extremely blessed.

Needless to say, the reunion in June went well. When Joe first saw my mom he said that he remembered seeing her in the bushes crying all those years ago when he and Eric were taken from their home. My mom nodded, cried, and hugged him. Their first embrace in 60 years. Eric confirmed he didn’t remember much other than what he had heard from his brother. My mom told Joe how he got the scar on his face, she shared stories of their childhood… all the stories she had held onto for these years and her brother’s learned more about their past. The reunion was beautiful. My cousin’s husband filmed it all and I can’t watch it without crying and feeling all the emotions.

Now several months later (mid-August), it was my turn to meet my uncles and cousins.  I couldn’t believe how sweet and funny my uncles were. Eric, his son, and his daughter came to visit and I could hardly wait to hug him and my cousins and meet their families. The following day my Uncle Joe rode up on his motorcycle and he looked equally shocked and happy when I popped out of the car and said “I’m your niece!” Both Joe and Eric made jokes about ‘betcha never knew we existed’ but it’s quite the contrary… I did know they existed and I had thought about them so much growing up. I am overjoyed that I finally have been able to hug them, laugh with them, talk to them, and learn about them and their lives. I also feel the same with my cousins! Eric’s daughter has a striking resemblance to our grandmother (all her best features) and she has such a positive personality, you can’t help but want to be around her. My other cousin is hilarious, he is easy going like his dad and adds the perfect amount of sarcasm to the conversation. I can’t wait to keep learning more about them and spending time with them.

Families are complex and I know many reunion stories that hold so much resentment and anger. I am grateful for a family that can look past the tragedies of the past and come out stronger and full of joy and appreciation for the present moments. We don’t understand why things happen the way they do but I sure am amazed with how everything works out. That is my story of our reunion… my mom’s sweet brother’s, my uncles, my cousins, our family. 

Really the story is just beginning.

Kendall: A Letter To Papa Bear

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Kendall: A Letter To Papa Bear

Dearest Papa Bear (as named by Rosemary),

When we first decided to have a baby, I know you trusted me to be more certain. I know that during our first appointment at 6 weeks, the Tricare preferred doctor left us in tears and scared that something was wrong with our baby. It was you that found a better doctor and clinic (Tricare be damned) and made sure everything worked out. You spent endless hours during our pregnancy translating almost every medical appointment so that I wouldn’t be scared or frustrated. I know that it was hard for you to understand me as I struggled with a heavy depression during my pregnancy. You felt helpless but I didn’t see it. All I saw was the same stable and able partner that I had married.

When I went into labor, you held it together. You were my rock. You held my head during an unexpected c-section and brought Rosemary to my chest as soon as she was out. That night, you sweat (literally) during her first diaper change. You helped me change my postpartum diapers (because I couldn’t move) without complaint. You took Rosemary’s first set of dirty clothes home for Bella to sniff so that she could be prepared to welcome her baby sister. You joke that Bella is in our family because she was part of the package deal with me. That may be true- but you snuggle her every night and whisper sweet nothings into her ear. She is just as much your daughter as Rosemary. 

To say that Rosemary loves you is simply not enough. Whenever you have to shut the door to do school, go to work, or just take a minute, she misses you. You are her everything. Seeing you completes her day. You’ve taught her to slide, dance, sing, and say, “Hola! Como esta? Bien bien.” You, Israel, are so loved by your daughter.

Rosemary won the lotto with you. You worry over every bump, cry, and mood change. Because of you, Rosemary will be strong. Because of you she will know what opportunity is and she will understand the complexity of life. Every day, I wonder what the hell I did to deserve you. As honored as I am to call you my husband, I am more honored to call you the father of my daughter.

Love,

Mama Bear, Baby Bear, and Bella Bear

Shari: Dear Dad

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Shari: Dear Dad

Dear Dad, 

When I think of you there are so many memories that come to mind. I remember how I felt as a child when you would come home. I could hardly wait for you to walk through the door… like a little puppy I wanted to be the first to greet you and tell you how much I missed you. My heart still swells when I see you and hug you. You have such a special place in my life.

Like most kids, I am sure my teenage years were tough but you took it in stride, coaching my rec-league soccer team, attending every sporting event, and every orchestra concert (both at school and at home)! You were always there and always consistent; a strong support in my life that I didn’t take for granted. I appreciated seeing you in the crowd and knowing that you would cheer me on- win or lose. I knew that regardless of what happened we would go home and eat dinner around the table and laugh about something that happened that day. You, dad, were always a highlight to my day.

When I was born mom said you cried tears of joy because you KNEW I was going to be a girl. You picked out my name because you wanted it to be special. You named me after all your sisters. I know how much you wanted a girl and how deeply loved I was before I even took my first breath. As your only daughter and the baby of the family, I know I mean the world to you. Thank you for making sure I always knew and felt your love. I still remember hearing you brag to other parents, “Yeah the blonde one, Shari, she is my daughter” and the pride that would shine across your face. I hope I always make you feel that way. 

Thank you for teaching me how to agate hunt and enjoy kayaking out on the bay. Thank you for the copious amounts of dahlia bouquets in the summer (you have the greenest thumb). Thank you for always having the newest and nicest camera and insisting on taking photos. I love that we have a lifetime of documented memories. I’m so happy that you are enjoying your retirement with mom. You deserve it after all those years of hard work. I can’t wait to plan our next family vacation and make more memories together. I love you and am so honored to have you as my dad. 

Your daughter, 

Shari Koralyn

Shari: Processing Family Moving Across the Country (Again!)

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Shari: Processing Family Moving Across the Country (Again!)

The irony of my blog this week was that it was supposed to be a reflection post about when my oldest brother moved his family to Ohio. I was going to write about how I have made the most out of visiting them and how I am finally at peace with having a chunk of my immediate family across the country. Fast forward, and now my other brother (I only have two brothers/siblings) is building a custom home in Tennessee which should be completed in early 2022 and I once again have to process my brother’s family moving out of Washington State and across the country. I’d like to say it isn’t as traumatizing as it was the first time but that would be a lie. Although I am not as shocked by the move… I am still sad. 

There is no doubt in my mind that I have a warped view of what it means to be around family. What do I mean by that? I think living so close to family growing up gave me a false reality of what classifies “normal” proximity to relatives. For example, most people don’t share a driveway with their grandparents and have 95% of their Aunts and Uncles living in the same state as them. As an adult, I now realize this but nonetheless, it wasn’t my reality as a child. I always dreamed of having my kids grow up with their cousins, weekly family dinners, and my parent’s house being a revolving door for homemade food and hugs (essentially, resembling my childhood). I never thought my sweet little nieces and nephews would be so far away and that a trip or two a year would have to suffice to see their faces and help them remember who their “favorite” auntie is. Don’t even get me started on how much I fiercely miss the bear hugs that only my oldest brother can perfectly give. Or the belly laughs that come from reminiscing on childhood memories that are blown out of proportion with your siblings while sitting around the dinner table. FaceTime, Zoom, or Duo are NOT the same no matter how hard you try. 

I am looking forward to trips to Nashville, potential family gatherings in the South, and for my brother to custom build his dream home for his family. It’s been an awesome process to witness my brother and sister-in-law work through all the exciting (and daunting) details of their new home. I love how excited they are to get to know their neighbors and their heart for the community and new hometown that they will now raise their family in. These are all admirable reasons to move and I cannot (and will not) fault them for that.

Ultimately nothing really prepares you for people (especially family) to leave your life in a proximity kind of way. However, I refuse to sugar coat it anymore than I already have. It sucks.

Kendall on Living Across the Country (Sometimes the World) From Family

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Kendall on Living Across the Country (Sometimes the World) From Family

When I first moved to Spain in 2016, it was the first time I had ever lived away from the vast majority of my family. Everyone told me I would be homesick. Truthfully, I wasn’t. Maybe it was the wonder of living in a foreign country. Maybe it was just time for me to carve my own path forward with my new family. My husband is a pro at moving around and has been away from his family since he was 18 years old and went off to college. New places, new faces, and new ways of life didn’t scare him. I was a little nervous at first mainly because of the language barrier in Spain. Looking back though, that experience has made me super adaptable (I know, I know- insert shock and awe here). Anyways, I really enjoyed life away from everything I had known. Rather than being scared, I felt peaceful. I felt like I was finally defining myself on my own terms (like, really, just my own). When you are stripped down to just you- no job, new friends, new family, and new experiences, you really do figure out who the heck you are and who you want to be. And in all that, there is a lot of opportunity for things to go south. There is also a chance that you will come out of it a much stronger person. I have and because of that, I am a better person.

There were some times when I missed my family- of course! I was used to seeing them all the time! I really missed having them around when I was pregnant. After Rosemary was born, Issy and I both really wanted to have our families close by to witness all the little things that she was learning and experiencing. As someone who was raised by my grandmother, I do understand and value the idea of family. I would not trade all the grandparent time I got for anything in the world. I loved our big family holidays that took up full weekends. I miss that stuff. I miss feeling connected to my many cousins. But the truth is that, at present, our path is not in WA or TX (where my husband’s family resides). Our path is here in Vermont. In some ways, that’s made the pandemic easier; less people to see. In some ways, it is also fair. We aren’t choosing one person’s family over the other. We are neutral. Also, our decisions are definitely our own. There are no other voices- just ours. And I mean that kindly! Everyone only wants the best for us and I know everyone has truly good opinions and ideas… but for us, it has really strengthened our bond as partners. We have to listen to and trust in each other- just us two. 

The bad thing about living away from your family? Well, there lots of bad things! Not only do we miss them but we also worry. I worry about my grandparents because they are getting older (though I have made them promise me that they will never die so… why am I worrying?). I worry about my dad being isolated at home during the pandemic. Issy wants nothing more than to hangout with his best friend (his sister, Dina). He also misses his mom and dad and worries about them going to work and being out and about while Covid-19 is raging on in our country. If something were to happen to ANY of our family, it’s not easy to get a flight from VT to our home states. Layovers, layovers, layovers. 

Moving away can be scary. It may not work out for you. And that’s ok. For us, it’s hard BUT it has worked out. We like our story and we like our path. We make it a point to get on the phone with our families often. I talk to my dad via FaceTime once a day, every day. I manage to FaceTime with my grandparents about once or twice a week so that they can see Rosemary. It all works out. As we start thinking about what’s next, we know that we are most likely never going “home” again. In fact, when we do go back to our birthplaces, it doesn’t feel like home. It all feels different. There is a lot of nostalgia and a lot of good memories but the future of our family is elsewhere. The one big thing I learned after I left Seattle is that home is where your heart is. And mine is wherever Issy, Bella, and Rosemary are.

Kendall’s Spaghetti

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Kendall’s Spaghetti

Growing up, spaghetti was a big deal in my house. My mom made delicious spaghetti. Like, really good. I mean, I liked it, but my dad? He LOVED it. After my mom passed away, my dad, sister, and I were sitting in the funeral home waiting on our coordinator and my dad started crying. Seeing him cry, I asked, “Dad, do you need a minute?” His response? “I just realized I will never get to eat your mom’s spaghetti again.” As you can imagine, the days after my mom’s sudden death were really emotional. But this moment made me laugh- hard. It made me start thinking about all of my mom’s signature dishes that I wouldn’t ever get to devour again. It was emotional. Food brings us together. It’s an essential part of living our lives and it can be super connective. 

As hard as I try, my spaghetti will never be my mom’s. And this is ok. I still make good spaghetti. My husband also has an obsessional connection to my spaghetti; so in a way, I feel close to my mom when I am making it. I am not making it because I want it, I am making it because I want my family’s tummies to be satisfied. It comes from a place of love… which Italians will tell you is the best way to prepare food. 

Kendall’s Spaghetti:

Ok, I am terrible with measurements because it changes depending on how many people I am cooking for- so adjust as you see fit. ALSO, I can make homemade spaghetti but usually I don’t budget enough time, so the below is the easier way- with canned sauce, diced tomatoes, and tomato paste!

The below recipe will comfortably serve 2-4 people depending on how hungry you are.

Ingredients: 

  • 1.5 pounds of ground beef
  • 16 oz of spaghetti pasta (a whole box- yep, just do it)- if your local grocer is out because people have stocked up on their COVID supplies, linguini will do too.
  • 8 oz. of sliced white mushrooms
  • 1 yellow onion finely chopped
  • ¼ cup of dry red wine
  • Thyme
  • Oregano
  • Dried basil
  • Red pepper flakes
  • Garlic powder OR real garlic (about 2 cloves minced)- you can pick or use both
  • Salt
  • Pepper
  • Parmesan
  • 2.5 oz. to 3 oz of canned tomato paste
  • 20 oz of canned tomato sauce
  • 15 oz of canned diced tomatoes

Process:

I like the meat in my sauce to have really good flavor, so I always toss it into the skillet first on medium heat and liberally season with salt, pepper, and ALL OF the seasonings mentioned above (EXCEPT red pepper flakes- unless you want to, of course). Season to your tastes. As it cooks, keep stirring it up and adjusting the flavor as you like. When the beef is about 5 minutes from being done, toss in your onion and minced garlic (if using). Let it all cook together for about another 5 minutes on medium heat. 

At this point, start heating up your heavily salted water for pasta (should taste like salt water). 

Right as that is all finishing, toss in your wine and let it stew for a few minutes before adding in your canned tomato goods. I like a really thick sauce which is why I use so many variations of tomato! Once all of your tomato is in the pan with the meat, season again with the above seasonings-  use what you want and how much you want… taste it as you go. Then, once it’s all assembled, let it simmer for 30 minutes. 

Once your pot of water is boiling, get your pasta in there and cook until it is your desired texture. I prefer a firmer noodle but my 2 year old likes it a bit on the soggier side. 

Once everything is done, mix it all together in a big bowl with some parmesan. Dinner is served! 

THIS IS NOT A FANCY RECIPE. This is a really simple recipe that is meant to get dinner on the table quickly. For a truly homemade from scratch spaghetti recipe, tune in next month. I only make it once a year! 

Enjoy!

SHARI ON BEING SCANDINAVIAN & EMBRACING HYGGE

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SHARI ON BEING SCANDINAVIAN & EMBRACING HYGGE

At work I am on the Wellness Committee and someone suggested we do our next “corporate challenge” on the Danish concept of Hygge. This is a concept I am very aware of with my Scandinavian ancestry and involvement with a local Scandianvian group here in WA. If you follow @thesaltyexchange on instagram you might remember that when I took over the stories on Monday, November 2nd I took a picture of my Zoom board meeting with the Daughters of Norway. I got involved with the Daughters of Norway back in 2012 after helping with their annual Scandinavian Fair. I worked as the event coordinator for the venue where they hosted their annual event (since November 2010). Over the years, I got to know the ladies (who I lovingly referred to as my “Nanas of Norway”) and every year they would invite me to attend their monthly meetings. Finally I did and I have been a faithful attendee ever since. They have become friends and family that I never knew I needed and have taught me about Scandinavian traditions not just from Norway but from Sweden, Denmark, Finland, and Iceland. 

Regardless of how excluding the name of the organization can sound, it is extremely inclusive. Even if you aren’t Scandianvian but are married or related to someone with Scandinavian descent, you can join! Their purpose is to celebrate the traditions, customs, and stories from their homeland. As a natural leader, I was asked to be on the board relatively quickly. I think they liked the idea of getting some of the younger generation involved. So now 7+ years later, I have served on the local lodge (Nellie Gerdrum #41) board since 2013 in various positions (Trustee, Vice President, President, and currently as Judge). I, along with the current President, am hosting a virtual Scandinavian Fair this year due to COVID cancelling the 21st annual in-person event and already our little local lodge has reached over 200,000 people from all over the world with our Virtual Scandianvian Fair facebook event (event link will have archived videos and content after November 7th, 2020).  

My top takeaway from being a member of this amazing group is the passion that comes from learning your heritage and taking part in celebrating it. A concept I heard years ago was the Danish word Hygge. I loved that it incorporated so many of my favorite parts of being Scandinavian and most of all that it isn’t really so much of a word but more of a feeling. See a rough translation below:

[hu-guh] noun

A calm, comfortable time with people you love, a complete absence of frustrations or anything emotionally overwhelming. A quality of coziness that comes from doing simple things. Often enjoyed with good food and drinks, warm blankets and candlelight.

Also known as the Art of Happiness. 

Happiness… who doesn’t want more of that in their life, amiright?! There are a lot of ways you can incorporate hygge into your environment, especially during the winter months…from décor (add candles), crafts (make a wreath), cooking (see Glogg recipe below), reading (set aside time to relax), etc. The list of things that are considered ways to bring you joy and happiness is extensive. Some of my favorites are lighting a candle (no scent, purely for the flickering lovely light), making a home cooked meal (I prefer easy and in the crockpot), reading a good book while curled up in a cozy blanket, or even turning on my “fireplace” (a heater that looks like a fireplace) and wearing my fuzzy socks are all ways in which I find my hygge in the midst of the colder seasons. Year round I enjoy hygge in playing outside, painting, gardening, crafting and doing this…co-blogging for The Salty Exchange by sharing what I love. 

Here are some of my favorite resources to learn more about Hygge:

Beginners information on hygge:

https://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/the-year-of-hygge-the-danish-obsession-with-getting-cozy

How Hygge Can Help You Be Happier

Ideas for hygge at home:

10 Ways to Hygge Your Home

Shari’s favorite books on hygge:

Scandinavian Gatherings by Melissa Bahen

The Little book of Hygge by Meik Wiking

Making Winter by Emma Mitchell

The perfect season to make a pot of gløgg (a spiced drink that Scandinavians associate with hygge and also Shari’s favorite part of German traditions too):

Package up some DIY holiday hygge

Happy Hygge to all, and to all a good Fall & Winter!

Kendall On The Decision To Stay Home

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Kendall On The Decision To Stay Home

When I moved to Spain, I became a stay at home wife… that’s right… not a mom… a stay at home wife. Certain elements of being stationed there made it very difficult and, in some cases, impossible, to work. At first, I struggled. I missed working. I missed using my brain and challenging myself in ways that had pretty much been conditioned in me for as long as I could remember. I missed that part of my identity. Work had always provided me with a sense of purpose. The loss of that purpose was very difficult for me to process. My first six months in Spain, while lovely, were also very jarring for me as I searched for purpose and meaning while adjusting to a whole new way of life. With everything stripped away, I truly started over and ended up really liking who I became. Eventually I embraced the solitude and the calm. I made a lot of time for reading, writing, and adventuring with my husband. 

Once our daughter was born and we learned we would be moving back to the United States, Issy and I discussed what it would look like for me to go back to work. We ultimately decided against it. The truth is, I just don’t want to pay for someone to watch my kid. BUT with that said, I also understand why parents do pay for daycare and want to get back to work. It’s an important part of who they are, sometimes it’s a financial must, and, quite frankly, the routine is essential to one’s mental health. The list can go on. I am a firm believer that each parent and family have to do what is best for them. I do not believe that there is any one right way to raise kids. I do not judge a mom or dad who chooses to go back (whatever their reason) – they never have to justify that to me. I also do not judge a mom or dad who chooses to stay at home… it doesn’t take away from who they are or make them any less smart or valuable. Yet I, like a lot of others, have fallen into that trap. I often feel like I am seen as “lesser.” The perception I feel people have of me must be that I am lazy. All of these things (and more) are completely unfair. It’s a terrible game to play. In short, it’s a total mind f%^#. And in all honesty, it takes away from the experience of being with my daughter. I have to actively work to shut all of that out. 

Being at home is something I openly struggle with. I would love to engage my mind in something outside of parenting. When Issy breaks down all the details of his day and what he is working on, I am in awe because of how happy he is with his daily accomplishments, totally lost because I do not understand a lot of the super specific parts of his job, and sometimes I am very jealous that I have nothing to contribute to our conversation outside of the baby/home life. I feel… uninspiring. It’s especially hard after those days that are filled with toddler tantrums and the drinking and spitting back out of milk all over herself and the floor. The worst days for me though, are the days where Rosemary wants nothing to do with me. I can’t bear to hear how great someone else’s day is when the one job I have, I failed at. Those are the days I struggle with my decision to stay home the most.

Then, there is the guilt. I feel so guilty for asking for “me time.” I feel like my husband looks at me and is disappointed. In reality, my husband NEVER thinks or feels this. He is in total support of me taking care of myself and pursuing my own hobbies and interests. He would gladly drop everything to give me time for whatever I wanted. There is just this crazy shame and guilt that if I do something for myself, I am selfish. After all, (this is me talking to myself), I am at home all day. I am not working hard. Taking care of our child is a privilege and I need to get over myself. And there it is- that’s an inner monologue of mine. HOW on earth did my thinking get to be like this? WHY is it easier to hate and judge myself than it is to give myself some grace and believe that people do not see every bad quality in me? I am, and always have been, really hard on myself. That has only intensified with motherhood. For the sake of my daughter and my own well-being, I have been working really hard to kick that inner monolgue’s ass to the curb.

Look, being a mom is… kind of amazing. When I hear Rosemary reciting her numbers and colors and identifying things in the world… I know that that is me. I don’t mean that my husband doesn’t teach her things because he does BUT I am the primary teacher. I work on puzzles with her, reading, listening, coloring, etc. That’s my job. And so far, it’s really satisfying. Molding a little human to be better than ourselves, adjusted, happy, and bright is not easy. It takes work. When I am feeling low or confused, I can’t let her see that… kids are smart. They pick up on that. I never want her to see that I struggle with what I do because it is not a reflection on her… she is wonderfully wonderful. It’s a reflection on me and my identity markers I have crafted for myself over the past 32 years. 

I hope to go back to work when Rosemary is a bit older. For now, I firmly feel my place is with her. Wanting to go back to work is also really scary… I will be older… lack about a decade’s worth of resume time… My competitive-ness will be nil. Will I look pathetic? Will someone even want to give me a chance? Heck, will I be prepared? I like to think so. My fear is having to defend my life choices and as a result, having to defend my basic worthiness as a human to a group of my peers. 

Being at home is just a part of my life story, not the whole book. That’s just me. I know that there is more I am meant to do. What that means and what that looks like have yet to be determined. All I can say with confidence is that I am the badass CEO behind Arguello Holdings Inc and we function because I make it so. More on that later. In the meantime, send help. Rosemary refuses to keep her clothes and diaper on. Like, refuses. Undergrad and grad school and the workforce in general did not prepare me for this.

Kendall On Her Courthouse Wedding

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Kendall On Her Courthouse Wedding

I am a girl who loves her wedding TV shows. David Tutera? LOVE. Saying yes to THE dress? Love the moment.

When it came to my wedding though, I knew I didn’t want any of that. It simply just wasn’t important to me or Israel. Also, our situation dictated that a quick, no fuss ceremony was needed- on many levels. Let me explain…

To clarify, I was not pregnant. I can see why many people jumped to that conclusion and assumed that that MUST be the reason why a girl would forsake her “special” day. What I was dealing with was a time crunch. Issy was due to PCS to Spain on May 2nd… and we decided to get married on Saturday, April 2nd. Our original plan had me going to Spain unmarried and upon further investigation, we realized that wasn’t logistically responsible. Since we knew we were going to get married anyways, we decided there wasn’t any reason to wait. And I am glad we didn’t. 

*Special shout out to Al C…. thank for the real talk regarding marriage and PCS life. You definitely helped us make a better decision and it’s one that we have never regretted. 

So, the time crunch became the guiding force on our road to matrimony. We made the decision to get married in Seattle after our return from the vacation we were currently on in Texas. I left a few days early to return to Seattle and figure out the HOW we were going to get married. I had to consider all the documents I would need to file and how to get the certificate the quickest to ensure that we could get me all squared away on the military side of things while I still had Issy to help me… I was super intimidated to walk into the DEERS office on Fort Lewis since I did not, and to this day do not, speak the befuddling language of the military. Time was of the essence. 

At the heart of it, I also really didn’t want a big wedding. Really, I didn’t want a wedding at all. This was very hard for some of my friends and family to understand. I was at a point in my life where I didn’t care about the details. I didn’t care about the dress, the food, the wedding party, etc. It simply was not important to me. Committing to a man that made me happy, who loved me, and who I loved was really ALL I cared about. I didn’t need the typical wedding to make me happy or validate my decision. It is also important to state that I was also terrified that a wedding would become about my mother. My mother had passed away about a 15/16 months before and it was still very raw for ALL of us. My fear was that the day would become sad. People would cry that she wasn’t there. As her daughter, I cried regularly about that and as selfish as it may be, I didn’t want “my day” to become about that. I wanted to savor the moment of commitment to my husband without everyone else “wishing my mom could be here.” Or saying, “Ah Kendall, can you feel your mom?” I get that that brings solace to others, but those kinds of things don’t bring me any. More on that in a moment…

I figured out the details and was able to find a judge at the King County Courthouse that could marry us on the date we wanted. He gave us great instructions on what we needed to do and how to do it. While I was working out these details, Issy was in Texas telling his immediate family and close friends about our upcoming decision to get married at the courthouse. Like me, he had some people who thought we were crazy and others who thought we were brilliant for skipping the wedding. It was April and we had started dating in September… this sh&* was happening quick. All of these things were really good questions and concerns. Through all of the voices before and after our ceremony, Issy and I never wavered on our decision to do this our way. Issy and I both had dated A LOT. We had both been around the block and back a few times. When we met and connected, we quickly knew that we were it for each other. Our multitude of experiences made us very certain that we were doing the right thing. 

Flash forward a few weeks, Issy had returned to Seattle with his dad in tow to help us with a few things. It was nice that our dads got to meet and hang out a bit. Having parents and family that live in different states makes the whole family bonding thing super difficult. Issy asked my dad for permission to marry me and it was done. My dad was so great about it. He was thrilled we were getting married and he was confident in our choice. When our dads found out I had already set a date and talked to a judge, they jumped on the support bandwagon. Things were all falling into place. 

We got married on Thursday, April 21st, 2016 at 5 pm… I think? Maybe 5:30? I can’t even remember. I went to work that morning with lots of butterflies in my stomach. That afternoon I checked in to “Inn At The Market” in Pike Place Market and put on my dress that I had picked for the occasion (shout out to Lorie who met me on whim to help me make the final decision- having you there was special for me). Then I took an Uber to the courthouse to meet Issy, my dad, and Jenny and Jeff (our other witnesses). As I checked into the courthouse I was surprised at how many other couples were there getting married. When Issy walked off the elevator with a bouquet of flowers for me, I knew that everything was perfect. Our ceremony was quick and efficient. Thanks to my dad, Jeff, and Jenny, we have some great pictures to remember the day by. And just like that- we were married. We went out for a really nice dinner right after and were in bed by 11. The next day, I went to work for a few hours and then grabbed my certificate to start the process for a new driver’s license and social security card. Needless to say, Friday April 22nd was efficient. 

Over the next few days we shared the news with more of our friends and family. Most were super supportive and happy that we had done what was best for us. Heck, most were happy that WE were happy. Then there were the few who weren’t so pleased or supportive. Someone had the nerve to ask me, “Is that really what your mom would have wanted?” Right there- that’s one reason why I didn’t do the whole big ceremony thing. The whole day would have been about that. And to answer that question (as I did then) my mom thought the drive-thru chapel in Las Vegas was the ideal wedding. That’s the gospel truth. So going to the courthouse was sort of a step up from that… Of course, I wish my mom could have been there. I missed her so much and still miss her every damn day. I don’t feel like I would have disappointed her- which was the implication. In fact, I feel like I honored her. My mom was a huge proponent of doing things that were best for yourself and being confident in your choices. I did those things. I did them with certainty and I would do it all over again.

I know people who have spent some serious money on their wedding and LOVED their day. I know people who spent some serious money on their wedding day and regretted it. I have known some people were getting married and complained about not having the budget to do things the way they really wanted. I know those who have had smaller weddings and those who have done destination weddings. And I have been in A LOT of weddings. Ultimately, you have to do what you and your partner want to do. You have to live with all the choices and be happy with them. Just because I had a courthouse wedding doesn’t mean I think bigger ceremonies are stupid! I personally just didn’t want one. We didn’t want to spend the money on one- even though my dad would have paid for it in a second. But I didn’t want to ask him. And Issy and I wanted to put our money towards building our life together. The courthouse was convenient, simple, and was 100% about Issy and I. It was perfect for who we are as a couple.

I often get asked if I regret not having a dress to pass on to my daughter. No. That’s just not a thing for me. If Rosemary decides to get married and have a massive wedding, we support her! She can create her own traditions and embrace her own vision. Who knows? Maybe she will go to the courthouse? Honestly, I have no opinion on the matter. She has to make her own decisions and be happy with them. I don’t want her to do one thing or another just to try and make us happy… life is too short for that kind of stuff. 

Embrace falling in love the way you want to fall in love and if you choose to get married, embrace that too and find your own way! Everyone will always have an opinion based on their experiences and that’s ok! Take it all in. Listen to it. Then do what is best for your partnership. 

And to people who have said I didn’t have a “real” wedding… shut up. 

Kendall On Coping During Covid-19

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Kendall On Coping During Covid-19

I am lucky. We still have income, our health, and general stability. What’s changed for me and my family is more cosmetic than anything. Vermont has handled the outbreak of COVID-19 with relative ease; this being a perk of living in a small and rural state. While we have had deaths in my state, we have had far more survivors. As of this writing, our current number of deaths sits at 58. It is still 58 people too many for my liking. People from all over New England are now flocking to Vermont to “ride out” the pandemic. This isn’t a joke- real estate has become competitive with out of towners looking for a second home oasis. Local businesses have rallied the best they can. Citizens are mostly responsible. Yet…

Yet for all those things, life has still been altered. Due to the economy, we had to take a temporary pay cut. Rosemary’s exposure to much of the world has been cut and/or limited but, luckily, she is completely unaware. Issy now works from home full-time and sees his coworkers from the computer screen. The list goes on… for all of us regardless if you see this whole thing as a hoax or not. 

COVID-19 has awoken a dark fear in me. My mother passed away very unexpectedly and quickly from the flu. Seeing the swift actions taken to try and save her are still fresh in my memory. When I think of what the coronavirus does or can do to someone infected, I see my mom. And I am afraid. I do not want to die that way. I am not ready to go. There is so much left to learn, live, and see. I am not ready to leave my daughter without a mother. Sufficed to say, I am more conscious of my health. Pair this new-found alertness with a seriously lethal allergy season that has been rife with breathing and throat problems galore and all I can say is that 2020 has kept me on edge. 

Despite the virus lockdown , I have been active with both myself and my daughter. I am always trying to figure out a new way to expose her to different things or a way to keep my mental health healthy. If you have any tips, PLEASE let me know. The alteration of one’s expectations and routines are never easy to accept but I remind myself that there are people who are truly struggling with the effects of this virus on a physical health, mental health, and financial health level/levels and I tell myself to, “STFU.” I am lucky. Life could be different. 

Being in quarantine doesn’t bother me so much. As an introvert, it feels like this is the general way I have lived my life- and no, that’s not sad. I like the quiet. I like being at home. What I do miss greatly about normal life though is the freedom to leave when I want or take my daughter to the grocery store with me. Every outing has to be fairly calculated and that is not always convenient. I miss date nights with my husband on Church Street- selfish, I know. I miss seeing all the local shops jam packed full with people during this time of year. It’s quieter and I know that means more financial burden for the community and its members. 

I have hope that a vaccine will be developed. But I also realize that the development of a vaccine isn’t going to instantly bring back our economy or restore people’s stability. That will come with time and time can be pretty darn cruel. Eventually though, life will resume to a level of “normal.” And when it does, I hope to see you; maybe even give you a hug or kiss. Until then, I hope you are doing ok and if I can do something for you during this crazy time, let me know.

Kendall’s Public Love Letter

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Kendall’s Public Love Letter

Dear Husband,

Thank you. Thank you for being born- though I realize you can’t actually take the credit for that. Regardless, thank you. Because you were born, we are where we are. 

Meeting you changed my life. Meeting you calmed me. Loving you has made me a better person. You have this beautiful outlook of the world that makes me feel more positive, stable, and open. Your happiness is infectious. Your ability to talk with ANYONE about ANYTHING baffles yet delights me. Your easy going nature makes you magnetic to our friends. Your “figure it the f&!$ out” attitude is what drives us. Working hard isn’t just something you do sometimes- you do it every day, without fail. 

We’ve had successes and we’ve had some failures… yet we somehow always end up where we need to be… and that’s something I 100% attribute to you since I get caught up in a lot of the smaller details. Your drive is something I am so proud of and it’s something that has been tested a lot in the past few years. You don’t give up. You get up at 5:30 every morning to sneak in a workout before you sit down for an 8-hour work day. You are constantly wanting to better yourself in every way possible. 

More than anything, who you are as a dad is what I am most proud of. Rosemary is the luckiest little lady to call you “daddy” or sometimes “danny.” She loves you hard, Issy. While she is little, her love is the biggest of all for you. And let’s not forget Bella… she loves you so much that she cannot not touch you while we sleep. The second you came into our lives, she ditched me for you. I know that. I can’t even be that mad at her… you are pretty spectacular. 

I know you don’t particularly love public tributes… but too bad. You are someone to be celebrated, my love. You make everything in my life better. 

So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! August 13th, 1985 is one of the most important dates in my calendar. You’re it, Israel. 

I love you,
Your wife

Shari On Unconventional Grief

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Shari On Unconventional Grief

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.

Kendall’s Chicken Enchilada Pie Casserole Recipe

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Kendall’s Chicken Enchilada Pie Casserole Recipe

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!