Thursday, 19 March 2015

{pretty, happy, funny, real}

pretty

succulents on the front porch // old and well-loved sandals, a bit stringy, but going strong // my pretty baby

happy

old friends meeting new additions

funny

behind the scenes of the grandbaby/nephew photo shoot.  I don't know what's happening here, but apparently, everything is falling to pieces

almost

there we go (had to remove nephew #2 to make it work in the end)

real


my grandmother holding my baby son for the first time--four generations between them

Linking up with {Like Mother, Like Daughter}.
Capturing the context of contentment in daily life.

Wednesday, 18 March 2015

5 Favorites: Catholic Creatives

Surprise, surprise!  This is a huge interest of mine.  If I'm not drowning in my own imagination, I'm shooting and editing photos, doodling, {blogging about fairy tales}, crocheting, planning that novel that's taking me twenty years to finish, or writing the occasional poem.  It can be kind of lonely for a straight-laced Catholic girl, though, when she braves the last frontier of the inter-webs to find her kind.  So it's really nice to find like-minded and like-souled people out there.  Whether it be for art, photography, or digital designs, these creatives kick it and are real Catholics, too.  I love it!

I found all of these girls on Instagram.  Thanks, {Blessed Is She}!  Images belong to their respective shops/creatives.  And visit {Melody} this week for more Five Favorites!


1 // {elleizahbeth}


Inspirational calligraphy and prints, but my favorite thing in her shop are these feathers.  Very midwestern and trendy.  I love the texture that is so visible on them.




GiedrÄ— was at the recent Catholic Women Blogging conference in Indiana, so you might already know her.  Wish I was there!



Check out the Modern Modesty Project, a styled shoot that captures young women so that their true beauty--their souls--shines through!



Jiza is just launching her rebrand and soon to open her creative print shops at the end of March!


5 // {Be A Heart}


I would be amiss not to mention Erica, who diligently provides fresh wallpapers for lap tops and cell phones to those who subscribe to Blessed Is She.  Not surprising, since she gave the tranquil, deep lavender look to the BIS online presence!

Tuesday, 17 March 2015

The Kitchen Alchemist: GF Irish Soda Bread


"In which I try to make healthful, affordable, easy meals:
in other words, throwing together ingredients in hopes of creating gold."

It's a blessing that I've converted to gluten-free for my health at a time when the GF movement is picking up and running.  There are plenty of recipes to be found online, and special ingredients are becoming available even in your run-of-the-mill grocery store.  So to celebrate Saint Paddy's Day, I was able to whip up an {easy gluten-free Irish soda bread}.


I picked this recipe because it had the least ingredients, and the ones most readily available to me.  I followed the directions, but it was a little undone inside after the allotted time baking and cooling.  Still, it was quite delicious.  I just wish GF breads didn't look so grainy.

Here's the markup:

Time // A
Ease // A-
Presentation // B
Affordability // C
Health // A
Taste // A

Good scores, overall!  The only thing is that almond flour is pricey, and if you add butter to this like is traditional, you significantly bump down the health grade.


We are Catholic, and my children's great grandfather (husband's father) was named Paddy and worked as a docker in Cork, where my mother-in-law was born and raised.  My children are somewhere between a half and a quarter Irish.  But Saint Patrick's Day isn't about nationalism for us; though that is the main allure for people in Ireland and America.  For us, it's a special day to commemorate the British saint who peacefully converted the entire land of fierce and loyal people; who, in turn, preserved civilization in the so-called "dark age" abbeys and became missionaries to the rest of Europe when it was plunged into true spiritual darkness.

I love Saint Patrick's Day.  In Wales, where we live on and off, it is a high feast which calls for a break of the Lenten fast.  One day, I would like to make a pilgrimage up Saint Patrick's Mountain, or {The Reek}.  Maybe when the children are older and can come along.  But today we are keeping things low key, with this traditional bread, corn beef and cabbage, some {Irish folk songs}, and maybe a movie (I recommend {The Secret of Kells}-- more on that later--or The Secret of Roan Inish).


Saint Patrick's Day links:

Saturday, 14 March 2015

11/52


"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2015."

Afon:  I could tell he wanted to be doing what Grandaddy was doing, so I got him his journal and a pencil, and he worked happily alongside.

Roan:  Now a complete butterball.

This week has been very tense, but not without its rewards.  We are currently visiting family, and it feels like every time I sit down to blog, Roan wakes up at that exact moment wishing to be nursed, or Afon needs a diaper change, or my grandmother requests a drink of water and as a dutiful granddaughter, I know I need to ask her if she needs anything else.  And so, things.  The lap top gets pushed back and I'm busy living life.  But it's been about a week, and I find that blogging is a very important outlet for me.  I begin to feel a mounting pressure after a couple of days of not blogging and a need to release that pressure onto the digital page.  I'm all writer.  If this were the pre-blog era I'm sure that would translate into the need to journal, write letters, or create a poem (and has in the past).

Sunday, 8 March 2015

Let's talk about that Similac ad

I know this is late.  I was in bed with a newborn when I watched {the ad} circulating Facebook.

I admit it; I cried.  I'm a cryer normally, but post-pardum I'm a ball of hormones and will weep at the drop of a slightly somber leaf.  I started thinking about it again yesterday after I was visited by a sweet college friend, who had patiently waited and given me plenty of space before asking to come and see the (now 7 week old) baby.


This friend is also pregnant with her first and expecting in about a month!  I said Roan was hungry and settled down to feed him, and she was curious about how I knew he was hungry.  I was sort of caught off guard by that question because I'm not at all accustomed to being thought of as a baby authority!  But I was delighted to answer as best I could; and once that can of worms was opened, I was a helpful Harriet of unsolicited advice and new mama tips!  My friend humored me generously.

This is what it's about, I thought.  Just, moms.  Sitting together, woman to woman, and supporting each other.  This is how it's been since always.  That's how women learned of old; not from manuals or lactation consultants that visit in the hospital; not from blog posts like this one or Babycenter forums.  Just women taking each other as the unique individuals they are, listening with sympathy to each unique situation, and offering personalized advice to each other, based on intimate knowledge of the friend and her situation.

Now, that Similac ad purports to affirm the same, but it's kind of impossible.  Why?  Because it's not personal, it's a generalization.  There's no way that those actors have characters so fleshed out that they have a blood type and pictures from their senior prom; they don't have family history of trouble breastfeeding, or a mother who raised lots of kids, or a supportive church group.  They don't don't have those things, either.  Because they're not real people.  They're just actors, playing stereotypes.  The breastfeeders.  The baby carriers.  The working, pumping moms.  The stay at home dads.  They're not actual people with all the intricacies and factors that really do contribute overwhelmingly to how a person carries and nurtures a child, no matter how seemingly far removed or irrelevant.  The Similac ad furthers the stereotype by inviting us to think of people like that--based solely on their parenting styles--and then asks us to promptly forget about it.  It's confusing!

The other thing I didn't like was the potential for it to shut down communication.

I'm a breastfeeding mom.  I consider my children exclusively breastfeed, despite the fact that Roan was on formula for a week after I had dye injected into me for an MRI; and despite the fact that I don't sweat if I run out to the store without the baby and my mom gives him a bottle of formula.  Maybe some breastfeeding advocates wouldn't consider my children exclusively breastfeed.  (Which, if that's the case, I don't really care.)  The bottom line is, breastfeeding is important to me.  I was upset to give Roan formula and a bottle for a week because I want him to breastfeed for a long time.  If I couldn't go back to nursing him, after giving it a reasonable try, I would have surrendered to bottle-feeding and not beaten myself up about it.  But that wouldn't change the fact that formula feeding is not my ideal.  And I don't think I should be robbed of that personal ideal, belittled as a "breast Nazi" because it matters to me, or made to feel foolish because other moms can't breastfeed and I might as well be grateful.  My potent desire to breastfeed--to raise my children in the way that is important to me--should be respected.


If I suddenly had debilitating problems breastfeeding, what kind of support would I want?  I know what I wouldn't want: not a fellow mother coming over and saying, "Oh, it's not a big deal anyway, just put him on a bottle."  Because to me, it is a big deal.  And I'd thank you kindly to acknowledge my feelings!

I would want women around me who acknowledged that it was important to me and so strongly desired it for me.  I would want them to be cheerleaders, fellow fighters, on the front lines with me encouraging me not to give up because they know how important breastfeeding is to me.  And that's what I want to do for others.  I want to empower them as women, as mothers, so that at the end of the day, they can be satisfied and fulfilled and at peace with however they've chosen to raise their children.

So if you want to breastfeed and are having trouble but want it badly, I want to encourage you.  Don't give up!  Don't listen when they tell you "you just can't" and "it doesn't matter."  It matters to you.  If you can't breastfeed or don't want to and are okay with it, I'm okay with it, too.  Nobody needs to be concerning themselves with how you're raising your child because I'm pretty sure you're the authority on your baby.  But I won't be afraid to care about you and what you care about and shy away from helping you in the name of "acceptance;" or because it's frowned upon to show any preference for fear of it being seen as passing judgement.

It dawned on me that maybe the breastfeeding Nazis aren't anti-formula-feeders.  Maybe they're not even anti-formula-feeding or less anti-formula.  Maybe they're just anti-shutting-you-down-for-feeling-like-breastfeeding-is-important.  Maybe they're even . . . oh, I don't know . . . women-empowering.  ;)

∆∆∆

For further reading:

10/52




"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2015."

Roan:  Nearer a sack of ten-pound potatoes now than five.  He was peaceful in the church while we visited with the relics of Saint Anthony.

Afon:  Also peaceful.  Some days it feels like he'll never grow up, but other days there are little glimpses into progress and maturity.  Those glimpses keep us hopeful.

Friday, 6 March 2015

7 Quick Updates

-- one --

The other day I clicked over to my comment settings and saw that I had captcha and blocked anonymous comments enabled.  Gosh, I hate those when I'm trolling visiting other blogs, so I'm so, so sorry if you've been trying to comment and been turned away.  Let me know if you're still having problems so I can fix it.

-- two --

My sis-in-law gave me a $100 gift card to Anthropologie as a baby gift.  I've never shopped there before, and wow, their dresses are expensive!  They have only a limited amount of baby things, too.  I've been sitting on it for weeks now, and I don't know what I should buy with it.  Advice?

-- three --

I am eating gluten-free as of now 'til . . . forever . . . because of my health problems coming to a head after the birth of #2.  There is gluten.  In.  Everything.  Mostly because of soy.  Tainted, tasty soy.  Reading labels is tedious, but I'm desperate at this point.  I've been through a battery of tests since Roan was born, and I've finally been referred to a rheumatologist.  I know what the diagnosis is going to be: either fibromyalgia or chronic fatigue syndrome.  I'll just be relieved to have a name for what I'm going through.

-- four --

As of today, Afon has still not received therapy for his ASD.  But he was evaluated and diagnosed by the county school board, so it's only a matter of time before they get him set up in a special needs class at school.  As for private therapy, Medicaid finally approved us, but now the one group of people are no longer taking calls and the other group are no longer making appointments (until further notice).

-- five --

I'm still catching up on {Fountains of Carrots} podcast.  It's delightful.  I love feeling like I can hang out with Haley and Christy while I'm driving the car or nursing the baby.  Low-maintence at its best.  You should check it out, if you haven't already.

-- six --

So . . . this.


It would be nice to get a little bit of income, just to get the things here and there that pop up in daily life.  Like, a haircut.  A haircut would be nice.

Is anyone interested?  It would be a 30 minute session; includes all the digital photos that came out from that session, developed by me, on a CD, with rights to print and distribute.  Location of your choice, date of your choice.  From now until . . . oh, I don't know . . . Easter?

{See more of my photography here.}

-- seven --

A relic of Saint Anthony is making the rounds in our diocese, and it's at our parish today!  Going to go touch the Roan to the holy remains.  ;)  And probably a rosary or two.

I don't have a particularly strong devotion to Saint Anthony, despite visiting him in Padua, his patronage of my home parish, and his nifty help with (ALWAYS) finding my lost things for me.  ('Course, he probably hid those things to begin with, since Masha says he is mischievous.)  So maybe it's time I start?

If you have any prayer intentions, leave a comment or shoot me an e-mail within the next couple of hours and I will bring them to our Big Brother.

Linking up with Kelly for {Seven Quick Takes Friday}.

Thursday, 5 March 2015

#BISsisterhood // Sacrifice

This Lent, as always, has a mind of its own.  I didn't make any set plans, to be honest, because of where I am right now in the season of my life . . . an autumn season, a fading time, a time of rest and reflection.  I've been ill all my life, but didn't know it, because it was my normal.  Now, however, it's become impossible to ignore.

I'm forced to be still, to let go, and to readjust my expectations.  To sacrifice, even.  To put those dreams and wishes--maybe for a time, maybe forever--on the altar, with the fruits of me-ness that I've held onto too long and that have caused me untoward stress when I just can't.

It's appropriate that sacrifice is being imposed, rather than chosen.  That's the thing about Lent.  It comes whether you're ready for it or not.  Change and grace are swift but irresistible, like a tsunami.  And I'm sort of grateful.  Because, in my human weakness, I might not otherwise sacrifice those wishes.

Wednesday, 4 March 2015

Saint Patrick's Day Tea

This was {originally posted} on March 20, 2013.

We are legit Irish around here.  My husband's mother was born and raised in Cork, and if you don't believe it, look for two seconds at a picture of my son.

So, as decent Americans and the Irish-descended, we have to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day, even if it's a day or two late.


Our friends joined us today for some hot tea, Irish soda bread, fruit, little sandwiches, and fruit tarts.  But first, here's what I did to prepare.


We made some easy lucky five-leaf clovers with green, washable finger paint and card-stock.  I embellished it with a teal marker and put it in a gold spray-painted document frame.


Both of the images in the above photos came from {Sole Searching Mama}.  I had good intentions of putting a prayer on back of the Saint Patrick icons to make them into a kind of prayer card, even high hopes of covering them in laminating people, but those plans all fell through when I ran out of time on my parents' printer.  And I wasn't up for reproducing one of Saint Paddy's long prayers by hand.

For the word art, I printed them out on card-stock I already had and trimmed them with my Michael's-bought paper-cutter.  Then I punched holes in them and strung silver ribbons left over from my wedding, of all things.  One of them, though, I kept and framed like {Susan did}.


(Read about "free lensing" {here}.)

. . . And that's it!  What, you thought I made all that food?  Pre-prepared spreads, breads, and pastries equals less stress and more fun, at least for this busy lady.  Oh!  I did boil water for tea. . .


Someone was a complete ham the whole time.  Not naming any names.


These girls (the same that were--all three of them!--bridesmaids in my wedding) always bring me a beautiful bouquet of hand-picked wildflowers.  I love-love-love little unexpected gifts, and I love-love-love flowers.  These flowers actually smelled like pomegranates!  I feel a bit frustrated at times because my thanks can never express just how much I appreciate the wildflowers.  Well, I hope they can feel my sincerity, anyway.

A text from their mom a couple.days ago read, "I have to tell you this, our journal topic today is . . . Write about a woman you know whose inner beauty shines outwardly.  They both chose you!"

What better motivation to goodness than this?  Girls, I will try to make you proud every day and be a woman worth emulating.

Hope your Saint Paddy's day was likewise sweet!  That's it for Saint Patrick's Day and Saint Joseph's Day.  Now back to our regularly programmed fast.

Sunday, 1 March 2015

9/52



"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2015."

Roan: napping with his new bonnet, a baby gift buy from Misha + Puff, in the cool dark

Afon: from the county fair last Sunday, in the bright bright bright, with flushed cheeks

What a week of weather!  Temperatures up and down and left and right!

Roan is over six weeks old and filling out well.  He succumbs to sleep easily and gives me lots of time for rest in the day.  Afon, not so much.  So Daddy and Grandmama are on board helping to disperse the seismic energy.

Today is Saint David's Day, a national holiday in Wales and a harbinger of spring.  Fill your house with daffodils, David's flowers, or try your hand at Welsh cakes.  This authentic recipe from a Welshwoman, for instance.

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