Can You Be My One And Only Sunshine Lady

Vancouver is experiencing one last burst of sunshine and warm weather before the rain and grey show up for an indeterminate (but sure to be a long) amount of time. It's the perfect time of year, full of lazy sunshine in the afternoons and a beautiful chill in the mornings. These muffins are my go to autumn recipe: perfect for using up the last of summer's zucchini and pairing with a hot cuppa tea to take the edge off the morning.

Zucchini Lemon Chocolate Chip Muffins
make 24

Preheat oven to 350F.

In large mixing bowl whisk together:
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup granulated sugar
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 Tbsp cinnamon

In separate bowl whisk together:
2 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil (this recipe totally works with the 1/2 apple sauce 1/2 oil trick if you're so inclined)
1/2 cup milk
Juice of 1 lemon
1 Tbsp vanilla

Mix liquid ingredients into dry ingredients (with a spoon - you will regret using your whisk for this step.)

Add the following and fold just until mixed:
2 cups grated zucchini
Zest of 1 lemon
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup chopped nuts

Bake for 20 minutes.

All That I Know Is I'm Breathing Now

This time last year I was in the depths of my descent into crazy. (Quick note: I call it crazy because it's my crazy. I wouldn't use that word to describe the struggle of anyone but my own. It was recently brought to my attention that using the word crazy can be perceived as insensitive and uncaring. Which, uhh, fuck that. It's my crazy and I'll call it crazy if I damn well please. End rant.)

Last year I was spending a lot of time crying. I spent days refusing to leave my bedroom. I imagined horrifying situations involving Grady hundreds of times a day. I spoke shrilly and quickly, and my mind was even more shrill and quick. I snapped at Shawn every day. I frothed at the mouth at the slightest (mainly imagined) provocation. I felt despair - heart-wrenching, spine-chilling, breath-stopping despair. Every day. I thought it would never end.

And then I got help. Things got better. Slowly. Painfully. But progressively better.

It was a gradual thing for me, my ascent out of crazy. I didn't decide to get help and instantly feel better. My happy crept up on me.

I don't know if it's the seasons changing or Grady turning one (or the blue moon or or etc) but I've been thinking a lot about my experience with ppbs ("postpartum bullshit" encompasses the postpartum depression, anxiety, and ocd that I experienced and is much faster to type out and can be perceived as insensitive and uncaring.)

A couple of months ago when Grady got sick, I held it together. I spoke to doctors and specialists and I held my screaming child down multiple times while blood was taken. I was functional and present and efficient. Until we were transferred from one hospital to another because the hospital closest to us wasn't equipped to deal with Grady's illness. I spent the entire ride between hospitals chanting "no" with every breath, my thoughts racing, my breath increasing until it wasn't "no" anymore but "nonononono."

Later, when Grady was better, when I could think in more than monosyllables, I realized how my new normal didn't involve being constantly distraught. It's a bit silly that it took me so long to realize that I wasn't crazy anymore but it did. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to say this again but I'm happy.

Tired as shit but happy.

No Thanks I'll Take Defeat

I'm struggling with something. It's been on my mind for a while and I can't seem to come up with a plan or find my peace.

How do you say "thanks but no thanks!" to well-meaning people? Not just well-meaning people but well-meaning family members. Well-meaning family members who don't accept the first, polite "thanks but no thanks!" brushoff.

I'm not an arrogant person. I don't think that I know everything. I'm open to the wisdom and suggestions of people who are speaking from experience. If you want to tell me what really worked - or didn't work - when you were raising your kid(s), great! I'd love to hear it. If you see me struggling with something and you have a suggestion based on your own experiences? Awesome! Let me know! But please, PLEASE, do not come to me with nonsense like "oh look at this awesome new product that promises to teach your kid how to do advanced mathematics before they reach kindergarten and look it's only three easy payments of $19.99 plus shipping and handling all major credit cards accepted! You need to get this! Grady NEEDS this. Don't you love Grady? Why do you want to doom him to a lifetime of knowing only basic math, Hillary? What kind of mother are you?"

That may be a slight exaggeration but only a slight one, I promise.

So here's the thing. I can take suggestions. I'm not so sensitive that someone suggesting a new product to make my child smarter sends me into a tailspin. It's what comes after that makes my head melt. If I say, "thanks but no thanks!" LEAVE IT AT THAT. Just drop it. It doesn't matter why I'm not interested, it only matters that I'm not interested.

So. How do I do it without coming across aggressively? If it was one incident, fine, whatever, but it's not. Every couple of weeks there is a new product / new teaching method / new whatever that I NEED to use with Grady and it's getting out of control. I need a way of saying "thanks but no thanks!" that is ... firmer? More definite? Less open to judgement?

Or I need to just stop caring. Which is probably my best bet but not something that will come easy to me.

In This Silence We Design a Different Life

I quit my job again.

Twice in one month.

I did it properly the second time around. I gave my formal notice. I stayed for my two weeks and trained my replacement. My last day was July 31st.

I'm terrified.

Terrified with no regrets. I couldn't see (or wasn't willing to see?) how negatively my job was affecting me. I couldn't see how bizarre my situation was until I started sharing it with people. It got so overwhelming - the support and rage on my behalf - that I had to stop sharing it with people. It was too much. It made me realize that I had stayed for way too long. I felt (feel) stupid.

I'm on the other side now, though. I've agreed to contract myself out to my former company until the end of 2012. I will be working limited hours. Apart from one monthly meeting, I'll be working from home. I will walk away if things get rough or out of hand again. Part of me is sad that I don't have a clean break but the other (more responsible) part of me is happy to have some income while I figure out what I want to do next.

Grady and I escaped to the lake for a week. Shawn drove us up and stayed for the weekend but he had to go back home to his new job (the new job that made it possible for me to re-quit my job.) I'm surrounded by family, the sun is shining, my belly is full of yummy food and my heart is content. I am starting to feel like myself again.

You Are The One Who Gives Me Hope

Life is still upside down and twisty but this weekend was perfect. We had Grady's first birthday party and I could not have wished for a better day. The room was full of people I love celebrating the little person I love most in this world.

I mean, it would have been nice if it had been sunny instead of rainy, and my day would have gone a bit smoother if I'd actually tried on my dress before the day of the party so I'd have realized it was inappropriately low-cut for my child's birthday party but, eh. What can you do, right? Grady's mind was blown over and over (balloons! cupcakes! Grandma and Grandpa and Nanny and Grandpapa all in the same room at the same time!) It was a perfect day.

(And now I'm back to hyperventilating at work but soon - SOON! - it will be done and I can breathe again.)

Step By Step

I quit my job last week. I stood up in the middle of a confrontation that had turned from professional to deeply personal and I walked out.

I wish that I could talk about what happened but I can't. Not right now. My boss asked me to come back and yesterday I did. I'm back at work (for now) and that limits what I can say about my situation. Trust me when I say it was horrible and it was insane and one day I will tell you all about it.

* * * * * 

Grady took his first step on Sunday. It was just one step so I can't say that he's walking but he's on his way. I don't think I've ever been prouder.

* * * * * 

Shawn and I are trying to get back to our healthy habits after eating nothing but comfort carbs during Grady's illness. Last night I wanted falafel but they're fried (mmm fried) so instead I whipped together a sort of falafel-esque baked chickpea patty. They were so yummy.

First I mashed up two 19oz cans of (drained and rinsed) chickpeas.

Then I buzzed an onion, four cloves of garlic, and the juice of a lemon in the food processor until it was a paste.

 Next I mixed together (approximately - I don't measure) two heaping tablespoons of flour, one teaspoon of salt, one teaspoon of coriander, and two teaspoons of cumin.

I mixed the chickpeas into the flour mixture and then added the onion paste and stirred it well.

I formed twelve patties and put them on a foil-lined and lightly oiled baking sheet, then baked them in a 400-degree oven for 10 minutes. I flipped the patties and baked for another 10 minutes.

I served the patties with whole wheat pita bread, lettuce, red peppers, avocado, cucumber, tomatoes, onion, and tzatziki.

I Wanna Be The Rain I Am A Red Balloon I Got A Book Of Dates

Just in case you need a little smile: