About that Wife Bonus

We’re jumping into the wife bonus fray.

If you haven’t heard of the wife bonus, start here:

Snarky argument against.

Snarky argument for.

We think all of this is just another way that women eat each other for lunch.

Who cares how other women spend their money?

If you are a stay at home mom living on mac and cheese to be with your kids, awesome.

If you are a stay at home mom whose husband is very good at maintaining a certain lifestyle, rock on.

If you work to make vacations happen, God bless you.

We know that our grandmothers fought for you to be able to live those lives. We hope you are happy.

BUT.

If you are going to benefit from the feminism, then you have to respect it.

Don’t get on your soapbox because you gave up a six figure income to have a baby. Or because you gave up indoor plumbing and electricity to stay home with your kids. Or because you didn’t go to grad school to stay home and change diapers, dammit.

It makes you sound like over-privileged first world consumer divas. Have some respect for your sister mamas who do it differently than you.

AND.

Look around you. Somewhere very nearby is a sister mama who wishes she could give up indoor plumbing and electricity to stay home with her kids. Just for one second, hear this argument through her ears.

Right.

With all the energy that has been expended in the last week talking about the merits of a wife bonus, we could have fed, clothed, re-employed and re-housed hundreds of women stuck in shelters with their kids.

Seriously, ladies.

When are we going to learn to use our powers for good?

Gabriel’s S’More Truffles

This is my sweet boy, Gabriel. He just turned 9.

I call him Pie, short for Pumpkin Pie Guy which is what I called him when he was a wee bit. But the nickname proved prophetic.

This child of mine likes to cook.

He has his own sharp knife, given to him by Sue. He learned to make her sauce before I did.

He can light our grill and cook some steak. He likes to season the meat, but after a foray into “secret ingredients”–cinnamon in the hamburgers–he has to clear his recipes with me.

But this one, something he cooked up on the stove over Easter break, is a winner.

He calls them S’more Truffles.

Ingredients:

12 oz chocolate chips

½ cup half and half

Mini marshmallows

Graham crackers

Directions:

In a double boiler over medium heat, melt the chocolate chips and half and half.

Spread parchment paper on a cookie sheet. Using a spoon, drop the melted chocolate into circles about two inches wide. Top with marshmallows and crushed graham crackers. Freeze for at least three hours.

Gabriel wants me to say that if you have one of those fancy blowtorches, you could brown the marshmallows before serving. But he’s not allowed to use one yet, so he’s only guessing that would be good.

I love these because they are a light and delicious mouthful. Not too heavy, not too much. Just perfect for summer twilight dessert time!

Easy Homemade Pasta Sauce from an Expert

This is Sue:

Sue has been in my life since high school. Her son Ryan and my brother Joe were best friends and teammates. She and my mom and dad got close sitting together at football games. Then, since most of Sue’s family lives in Nor Cal, she started coming to holiday meals. Then Family night. Then twenty years ago on Christmas we officially adopted her into the family. Now she is Annie’s godmother.

Sue is Italian on her mom’s side and let me tell you, this woman can cook. And she cooks the old school stuff, off of handwritten recipes from her mom and grandmother. These recipes come two ways: no measurements or measurements enough to feed 40. The cookie recipes she makes at Christmas have things like “2 lbs of butter” and “4 lbs of flour”.

Then there’s this sauce recipe. When I asked her how she made her veggie sauce, this is what she sent me:

zucchini and/or yellow

squash

fresh carrots

yellow onions, shallots and/ or green onions

all fresh tomatoes and/ or canned

artichoke hearts

eggplant

couple of celery ribs

garlic

Itailian black olives

olive oil

oregano, bay leaf, parsley (fresh is best)

salt and pepper or pepper flakes if you like it spicy,

sometimes I put jalapenos in too

toss it all together, roast at 375 until everything is soft and yummy, remove bay leaves/leaf

Transfer to a large sauce pan in which you have already sautéed a few more onions and some anchovies (you will never taste them in the finished sauce) in olive oil, stir in canned tomato sauce (I use San Marzano ) let it combine, then get the boat motor out and puree until you have the consistency you like.

If you let the whole “an Italian lady who is renowned for her cooking and baking sent me this recipe” go to your head, you’d never try it, right? Because Good Lord, how can we ever compete with someone who knows cooking so well that there are no measurements?

But let me give you another way to see it. This is the most powerful lesson I have learned cooking at Sue’s side: Alton Brown be darned, you don’t have to be constrained by measurements. It’s ok to experiment. It’s ok to make it taste the way you like. And recipes like this are very forgiving.

I don’t use everything on her list. I use what I have. I wait until the bag of little red, yellow and orange peppers are on sale, then I make sure I have some roma tomatoes and onions. This time I didn’t have carrots or celery, but I had asparagus and artichoke hearts, onions and garlic and nice juicy tomatoes.

So to review: make sure you have at least peppers, tomatoes, onion and garlic. Any other veggie is also welcome. Chop them up, sprinkle some olive oil, salt and pepper and roast it all at 350 degrees for 30-45 minutes, depending on how much you have.

In a large sauce pot, combine a bit of olive oil, some more onions, garlic and—if you must—anchovies, then add the tomato sauce. Add the seasoning, then the roasted veggies and let it cook for a while to incorporate. Then you can blend it—a food processor works just fine, but Sue got me a $20 Hamilton Beach hand mixer that goes right into the pot. Then I always let it simmer a bit longer. Salt and pepper to taste.

That’s it. Fresh food and a nice heavy pot.

Reblog: The Big 9-3!

Good Morning!

Last year I posted a blog about my sweet Grandma Betty, on her 92nd birthday. Today is her 93rd! Her story is worth retelling. Today, my mom, Uncle Gary (of Rescue Task Force), the girls and I will take lunch to her at her home, have some cake, and celebrate her 93 years. Here, again, is a tribute to this amazing lady whom I am so blessed to have in my life as my grandmother, cheerleader, and friend.

When I was growing up, I always thought that Grandma Betty and Grandpa Art were just the coolest people on Earth. And really, looking back, it’s pretty much true. Whenever they picked me up from school, I knew there would be awesome snacks and lots of playing in my afternoon. And by awesome snacks, I mean root beer floats, and by playing I mean ping-pong, smashball, or badminton in the back yard. One year they took me up to Calico Ghost Town over Memorial Day Weekend. When I was about twelve, they bought the grandkids bikes to keep at the house, so when I came over we could go for rides to the market or around the neighborhood. And we made countless trips in their motor home to Palm Springs, to Carson City, Nevada, to visit family, and to Newport Beach. They made 60 the new 40. Actually, they made 60 the new 30, since I’m almost 40 and can’t imagine doing all the things that they did!

Betty grew up on a farm in Iowa, but relocated to California following her fiancé, who was stationed here during World War II. He was deployed before she arrived, but she stayed in Long Beach, working an overnight shift at McDonald Douglas Aircraft throughout the war. After the war, she married my grandfather, had two kids, and moved out to San Bernardino, California, where she has lived ever since.

When her kids were little, she was a single mother, and sacrificed like you can’t believe just so her children would have food to eat. What has always stayed with her is her positive, spunky attitude, as my mom has often said that Grandma Betty made her childhood so good, she and her brother didn’t even realize that they were poor.

Today, this sweet little woman turns 93. And I am so grateful to have her in my life. I am so grateful that she has gotten to meet my girls. I love that they play in the same backyard that I did, with the same toys that I did, and they sit on the same patio, laughing and giggling with the same Grandma.

Grandma Betty’s mother, my Nana, lived to be 105 before she died in 1997. So on Mother’s Day last year, I told Grandma Betty that she still has 13 years to go… to which she replied “Oh no! Not that! I’m ready now! Jesus take me home!” And that truly is the defining characteristic of Grandma Betty: her unfailing faith in and love for her Savior, Jesus Christ. She tells anyone who will listen how Jesus has blessed her and blesses her still. She prays without ceasing, and I know it is those prayers that have sustained me during some difficult times in my life. But it is truly us, her children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, great-grandchildren, great-great-grandchildren who are blessed beyond measure to have this wonderful woman’s love in our lives.

Happy Birthday, Grandma Betty. We love you forever!

Guest Post: Unashamed by Jennifer

Good morning friends. Our support of Maternal Mental Health Awareness Month continues today with a guest post from our good friend Jennifer.

My name is Jennifer, and I struggle with depression.

I have a family history with mental health issues and a personal history of depression from before I had children. Because of my risk factors, my husband, Nate, and I were proactive with a plan to ward off postpartum depression after the birth of my first son. Our efforts paid off and we were successful. Unfortunately, after my second son was born I developed post-partum depression. He is almost two years old and I still struggle.

I think that because I did well mentally after the birth of my first son, Jacob, I let my guard down with my second son, Andrew. I did not have a plan in place for the post partum period when he was born. Andrew was born at 36 weeks gestation and this was a factor that contributed to my PPD. Though I was technically in labor, the hospital let Nate and I choose whether to go home or have my water broken. For various reasons we chose the latter. Andrew’s birth was very quick and he was small so he ended up being born with fluid in his lungs (Transient Tachypnea of the Newborn) and became a NICU baby. He spent a week there before being discharged. Sometimes I still catch myself playing the “what if” game. I know it’s an exercise in futility but I can’t help it. I will never know if his NICU stay could have been avoided had I’d just gone home that day instead of having my water broken. The guilt over our decision was something that really ate away at me when Andrew was a baby.

I turned 30 when Andrew was not quite two months old and I was not feeling it. Not because I was dreading turning 30, but because I was just starting to admit to myself that perhaps I was experiencing more than baby blues. I just wasn’t in a celebratory place. I remember telling Nate that I feared I had PPD but as I told him I also tried to minimize my feelings. I was ashamed of the place I was in. I think our conversation alerted my husband to the fact that I might be having a problem but we both were in a state of denial over it.

The height of my PPD was when Andrew was four months old, both boys were sick, Nate was working 80-hour work weeks, and Andrew would not take a bottle. I think his refusal of the bottle, and my subsequent inability to get a break, was a big factor in the severity of my PPD. Part of me began to resent nursing Andrew because I felt leashed to him and, as vicious cycles go, I would then be consumed with guilt for feeling that way. As I took care of my sons I alternated between constantly wanting to take a nap (something my well intentioned mother encouraged until I told her it was because I was depressed) and envisioning myself getting up and walking out the door while leaving the boys behind. I never wanted to hurt them or myself but the vision of walking out was so very real that I could practically feel the action of doing it. And that scared me. A lot. It was my sharing this impulse that made Nate truly understand that I was having a problem. Once he saw this, he immediately went into action mode and together we changed things to make sure I was getting a break, getting exercise, and other little things that did make a difference. Having the number to a Postpartum Support International coordinator ready on my phone helped too though I never ended up calling. In a strange way, simply having the number at my fingertips was enough.

December 2013 was my low point and through a lot of work and support from Nate, family, and friends, I am doing better. I still have days and weeks where I am inexplicably sad but I’m a work in progress. I have my list of things that help ward off my depression (exercise and duty free time are most helpful) and I know my red flags that signal the clouds are rolling in. I’ve also decided that I need to see a counselor. I’m doing these things to keep myself healthy and to help my family be happier. But I’m also trying to be proactive about my mental health because I have a strong desire for a third child and I am afraid I’ll have PPD again. I’m not ashamed of my history, but I don’t want to be caught unprepared again.

I also want to say this. If you think you may be experiencing PPD, don’t try to downplay it. Your feelings are important and you need to be heard. Tell people, a lot of people. I ended up telling a lot of people what I was experiencing and I’m glad. Sharing my story created a new village for me to lean on and be part of. On the flip side, if someone you know tells you they “may be” having baby blues or PPD, drop everything and listen. Take them seriously and get them help. Don’t assume someone else will.

The struggle is real but we do not need to struggle alone.

If you need immediate help, please call the National Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

If you are looking for pregnancy or postpartum support and local resources, please call or email us:

Call PSI Warmline (English & Spanish) 1-800-944-4PPD (4773)

Email support@postpartum.net

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: