Struggle Bus.

I am always amused by the women who post on social media about how great parenting is. How wonderful and sweet their children are. How much they enjoy being mothers. I mean, more power to them but I have to tell you that lately, parenthood for me has been a long slog filled with shit sandwiches. 

It is not that I don't love my kid. I do. But if I could send him to military school right this second? I would barely hesitate. He is not a bad kid for other people, in fact, he is rarely all that awful to Ron. But to me? He can be a beast. A nasty, mean jackass. He bosses me around. He yells at me. Today, he was so upset with me that he got in my face, screamed at me and pointed his finger in my face.

I handled it. I do not need advice on dealing with his bullshit. I have it under control. What I do not have under control is how much it drains me. I hate how much of a struggle even just being around him has been lately. It really bums me out. His behavior is completely unacceptable. Doesn't he know that if he just stopped fighting me, I would listen to him? We could being doing fun things? Instead we ride the struggle bus.

I have heard that spirited, willful kids are blessings because they are generally successful adults. I do hope so. I know that I was similar as a kid and maybe even am sometimes like this as an adult but lord have mercy, he is a pill.

The only thing I can take comfort in is that when shit got gnarly when he was a baby (teething, terrible twos) it was a always a phase he grew out of. The whole "this, too, shall pass." thing. I am gonna put all my eggs in that basket.

And drink a bottle of wine. Yes, a whole bottle.

Mame.

I have known for a long time that at some point I would have to sit down and write about Mame. When someone is a fulcrum on the direction of your life, it is impossible to avoid that person when discussing who you are because that person is such a large piece of that puzzle.

I met Mame while working for then Governor Mark Warner as he explored running for president back in 2006. Mr. Warner has since gone on to be elected to Senator in Virginia. The day that I got pulled into Mame's vortex, I was working on some godawful general database editing that interns are often assigned until a real project comes around. A bubbly and beautiful lady walked into the intern bullpen (this makes it sound fancy, it was really just a room crammed with computers and paper and unpaid college kids) and asked the guy sitting next to me if he had time for a project. He begged off, saying he already had too much to do for the policy shop. 

I CAN HELP! (oh, please, dear baby jesus, save me from this data entry.)

That women was Kathy Lash, one of Mame's closest friends and longtime colleagues. Kathy and Mame took me under their wing that summer and I worked hard for them. When the end of the summer came, Mame asked me to stay and work for the campaign, something I had always dreamed of since cutting my teeth on the West Wing. I declined, knowing my mother would murder me in my sleep if I did not finish my college degree. I promised to return after my final semester in December. 

That fall, Mark Warner decided not to run for president. But, Mame was a train of productivity that wouldn't stop. She called me the week before I graduated from college and offered me a job as her assistant in her new firm, The Reiley Group. 

Sure, we raised millions of dollars for democrats, threw lavish parties and executed many tips for VIP clients. Sure, we drank lovely wine and ate well. But Mame taught me how to be both a professional and a person. She was fiercely loyal to those who she worked for and employed. "Dance with the one who brung ya." She never missed an opportunity to reward hard work. 

Mame bought my wedding dress and then took me out for champagne and cheeseburgers afterwards.

Just over two years ago, we lost Mame to breast cancer. It was devastating to so many of us who loved and worked for her. Honestly, we all worked for her. When she called, you answered. When she beckoned, you showed up.

Next week, I am going to return to the DNCC Women's Caucus since I worked for her in Denver 2008. I will wear the fresh water pearls she gave me for my wedding (fresh water because that is what Jackie Kennedy wore exclusively) and the Ann Hand brooch she gave me as a goodbye gift when I moved from DC to PA. I will obviously also drink some bubbly and miss her fiercely.

I think about her often but especially when Hillary Clinton has a good day. Mame adored Hillary. I wish more than anything to hear what she thinks about this entire election. I know she is still with me. 

Mame, I miss you so much. I love you and am so grateful for all you did to polish me into the woman I have become. I am also so grateful for all of the crazy and lovely people you brought into my life. 

Sin Wagon.

If you ever have the chance to go see the Dixie Chicks with your mom in San Francisco on a beautiful night in July, you should totally do that. And, when that exactly is not an option, you should just try to see the Dixie Chicks tour anyway you possibly can because it will melt your face right off. 

First of all, my mom suggested we drink tallboys of Coors Light in honor of my dead grandma because she was classy as hell and it just felt right. We had lawn seats but were not far from the front of the lawn section and could see everything. There were women EVERYWHERE. I mean EVERYWHERE. There were so many women at this concert that the men's room was taken over by the women and it freaked all the dudes peeing at the urinals the hell out. One lady next to me was like, "Dude, look at me. I am zero percent interested in seeing your dick." God, I love lesbians. So much.

We were sitting next to two blonde 30 something sisters who were very tipsy when they first arrived. They asked us to watch their blanket while they made a wine run and bought us each another ($13 a piece) beer which they promptly delivered and disappeared again for, like, another 45 minutes. They came back sloshed to the max and proceeded to dance with me. I am pretty sure we got to third base due to her handsy dancing. Then, halfway through the show, we turned around and they were gone. They even took their blanket. It was like the basic bitch rapture.

The concert was amazing. I honestly had forgotten how feminist the Dixie Chicks' music is. The visuals and lighting were great. Natalie, Marty and Emily all sounded fantastic. Highlights included their cover of "Nothing Compares To You" and "Goodbye Earl." I won't give away the reason these parts were great because the surprise was half of the fun.

Today, I am going to listen to the Dixie Chicks on repeat and continue to not give a fuck and fight the patriarchy. Rock on, Chicks.

I've Got 99 Problems and a Beast is One.

Y'all, if i have to watch Beauty and the Beast a million and one times, you have to endure my concerns with the movie. I have many. Like. Not even totally serious ones. Just like WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS GOING ON HERE? And I am not even talking about the Stockholm's syndrome shit.

1. What is so weird about Belle? Like, why these simpletons gotta hate on her? The entire opening number is about how odd she is. Y'all. I am odd. I know odd. Belle is not even kind of odd. She just likes to read.
2. How in the fuck do these people not know that a. there is a HUGE castle nearby that in recent history contained a prince and b. is enchanted with a large beast? They all seem surprised that there is a beast. They straight up mock Belle's father about it but then somehow know exactly where the castle is. I call bullshit.
3. It is down right blizzarding outside but Gaston and Belle's father are in short sleeves. Uh. Okay. 
4. When the beast and Belle start falling in love and he eats like a wild animal? Makes no sense. If dude can speak and act human, how does he not know how to eat properly. He may have been an evil or narcissistic prince, but homeboy was still a prince and I am certain his mother taught him how to use a goddamn utensil.
5. The scene where Belle's father is putting his mouth on a minor and the minor giggles "oooh! His mustache tickles, mama!" Makes me super uncomfortable. Sure, the kid is a fucking tea cup but what the hell, Disney?
6. The three busty blonde chicks are all crying the day of Gaston's "wedding" but the night before, in the pub, they are laughing and smiling as he describes his plan.
7. Gaston is more than a little rapey. When he is in Belle's house and in fading her space, I want to kill him with his stupid shotgun.
8. There is mention of beer in the Gaston pub scenes but the movie is set in France and there is very little mention of wine besides the champagne showers in "Be Our Guest."
9. WHY IS MRS. POTTS LOOKING LIKE A GRANDMA EVEN THOUGH SHE IS THE MOTHER OF A FOUR YEAR OLD?
10. If the enchanted rose were so special, he wouldn't keep it in an open window to a balcony. Just saying.
11. At the very end, after watching the Beast transform into a human, Belle takes a few minutes to look at the man in a confused way as if thinking "could it really be him?" Bitch, you just watched him change. WHAT IS SO CONFUSING ABOUT THIS? Like, talking candle sticks and clocks are okay but changing back to human is somehow NOT okay?

Perhaps, i am crazy and have seen this movie too many times. I mean, I love the music and the jokes and Z loves to sing them all. BUT DAMN.

Okay, back to enjoying my vacation.

How To Survive A Cross Country Flight With A Wild Badger.

Hello. I am not sure if you know this but flying commercial coach these days is maybe not the most fun thing you have ever done. Like, even when traveling completely alone, it can totally suck donkey balls. And then there is the added stress and anxiety if god forbid you happen to be fat or bringing a baby onto the airplane. (I once had a man "joke" as we were boarding the plane with a 2 year old Z that he would murder us if my child was rowdy during the flight. I am not even joking.)

Honestly, it sometimes just feels like walking from Philadelphia to San Francisco maybe an easier trip. And I say this a seasoned veteran of flying (sometimes alone) with an infant, a toddler and now a pre-kindergartener. The dread starts in my stomach weeks before a trip. I usually have a tactical plan and most of the time (knocks on wood, runs outside, spins around three times and spits) it works. So here are some tips and tricks that I use in order to survive the 40 days in the dessert where satan is tempting you that we call flying commercial in this country.

1. The iPad, computer, tablet whatever is your friend. I do not give a rats ass how strongly for/against you are about screen time. I do not care if you think that electronics will give you cancer. Your number one friend in the air with a child? Movies, shows and games on an electronic tablet to computer. I also highly recommend earphones especially made for children. We bought ours at Target for a very reasonable price. It has volume limits to protect their ears and they fit a child's head. He can play his annoying train games, watch Toy Story for the 11th million time. The only draw back is that Z thinks he has to talk over the sound and yells at us when he is wearing them. HEY I WANT GOLDFISH. 
2. The only rules of flying is there are no rules. A whole bag of gummy bears? Goldfish only diet? I do not care. He could eat a whole back of peanut butter cups as long as he is mostly quiet and well behaved. I plan ahead and pack a bunch of his favorite snacks and offer them in intervals.
3. SURPRISE! It is a bunch of cheap plastic shit! Even though Z has way too many toys, I still buy small plastic surprises that he has not seen before. It buys time and distracts him and keeps him entertained. In the past, I have bought movie themed plastic sets from target and given him the toys one at a time.
4. Sticker, Activity and Coloring Books. This trip, I bought the marker books that use a special marker to reveal pictures and a huge Dory themed sticker book. He sat quietly and focused on them for at least two hours. Usbourne books make wirable dry erase books that we love. You can also buy similar things on amazon. Z loves mazes and connect the dots. 
5. Fake it 'til you make it. We act like flying is a big adventure and try not to stress out in front of Z. On our flight to San Francisco, there was a moment where things got a little dicey. We took a walk to the bathroom and it seemed to help shake out the sass. (Sidenote: Z is terrified of airplane toilets when they flush.)
6. BE NICE. BE NICE. BE NICE. It is simple but also sometimes feels impossible to accomplish but it really goes a long way. Flying can be miserable but I have found if you are kind and sweet to other people, it can neutralize any nastiness.
7. When all else fails, DRINK.

What traveling tips do you have?

Biscuits.

Y'all. I am all kinds of burned up right now. In the past few weeks, people have been sticking their noses where they do not belong. Over the weekend, I had a friend publicly shamed for breast feeding her baby. Another friend received unsolicited diet advice from a stranger. These are just specific instances and not even a comprehensive list of events that have happened to me in my lifetime.

But seriously? People need to mind their own damn business. Especially if no one is in danger or being insulted/persecuted. I mean, obviously, if you see some bullshit going down, you should say something. Mysogyny, racism, sexism, ableism and all that garbage should be called out. A woman breastfeeding her daughter, should not.

But unsolicited advice to a person who is just living their life is down right cruel and uncalled for. People are like icebergs, they are only showing like 15% of what is going on at any given moment. You are not allowed to tell someone how to live their lives. Not in person, not in real life, not online. Not ever. Your job is to worry about your own grass.

YOUR OWN GRASS.

Sure, there are probably people who I allow to be straight with me. Those people, though, are my closest friends and family. They are not strangers in the street or on the internet.

On the flip side of this? When someone (a stranger, an acquaintance, a neighbor, a stranger on the internet) does this to you and it makes you feel shitty, you need to remember that 98% of how someone treats you has more to do with them and their garbage than it does with you. They, too, are like icebergs. Sure, you are entitled to flip them off or scowl or even directly call them out on their cruelty. You are more than entitled to. Just remember that while you cannot control their behavior, you do have control over your response to it and usually, taking the high road and responding with grace is even more damning because it serves as a foil to their behavior.

It is had out there, y'all. There is not reason to make it any harder for others. 

So, in case no one has told you yet today: you are amazing, you are gorgeous and your ass looks fantastic.

What We Ate.

The most important part of a birthday/holiday celebration is the food and I take that shit super seriously. So seriously that I even baked my own birthday cake. Sure, this is most likely a symptom of being a crazy control freak, too. But at least the fried chicken was good!

So, I present to you an in complete list of the things we ate this weekend with links to recipes or where to buy. Bon appetite.

1. Chicken and Waffles from Red Star Craft House.
2. Cookie Monster Ice cream (Oreos and Cookie Dough) at Scooped.
3. Alton Brown's Fried Chicken.
4. Deb's Bacon Corn Hash. 
5. Rainer Cherry Crumble.
6. Yellow Cake with Chocolate Frosting via Joy the Baker.
7. Eight different flavors from Jeni's Splendid Ice Cream.
8. My mom's potato salad.
9. Tiffany's homemade ice cream.
10. My baby back ribs.
11. An Applewood BLT from Morgantown Coffee House. 

Yes, that is a lot of ice cream. You are not wrong. Unless you are judging me, then you are totally wrong.

What did you eat this weekend?

This Is All Shonda Rhimes' Fault.

Dear Shonda Rhimes,

Hi. Girl. Can we talk? Because this is all your fault. All of it.

Let's back up. First, thanks for being rad as shit and creating amazing TV, speaking your truth and giving light to others. For real. But this is where the problem starts. I listened to your book on audible last fall when I had an hour commute each direction. It was amazing. I highly recommend that everybody listen to it. It was like having a freaking amazing girls' lunch where your friend spills the details. I loved your speeches that were excerpted in the book. And, duh, obviously, your message is amazing. Self-care, ownership of your power and saying YES to yourself and your life is all around amazing. It really is.

My mom loves your shows, specifically Grey's Anatomy and so I thought she would enjoy your book. Each year for Christmas, my mom and dad drive from Miami, FL to Elverson, PA to spend the holidays with us but mostly my son, Zachary. My dad likes to drive and my likes to read, so I figured she would read your book, enjoy it and be grateful that she has such an amazing daughter who buys her wonderful books.

Yeah. EXCEPT.

My mom took all your bad ass advice, internalized it, looked at her life and decided that she was gonna start saying yes. YES.

I got a phone call a week after they left for home. "Stephanie, you have to keep a secret." Oh shit, you guys, I am TERRIBLE at keeping secrets. "I just applied for my Pennsylvania teaching license."

Uh....What?! 

A few weeks later, "Stephanie, I applied for a teaching position near you."

Uh....

That is when, on an untypically warm January afternoon, we walked past a house on our street with a for sale sign. "Call your mom," Ron said.

Our offer on that house was accepted a few weeks later. 

My mom put her house on the market. She'd call me excitedly, "YEAR OF YES!"

Shonda, girl. You see what you've done? This is all your fault.

Today, at this very moment, my mom and dad are crossing the NC/Virginia state line on I95 North. We closed on their new house. On my street.

Six months ago from this very moment, if you had told me that any of this would happen, I would have laughed so hard, I would have puked. Never. Ever. I would have said.

But you know what happens when you make plans or think you are in charge? God laughs.

And you know what happens when a strong, brilliant woman like my mother takes back her power and says yes to herself? I honestly believe that she could move mountains.

So, her we are. Halfway into my mother's year of YES. Just think what she's gonna do with the other six months!

Thanks, Shonda. For the first time in 14 years, I am going to spend my birthday with my mom and dad. My son is going to live on the street with his two biggest fans. We will FINALLY HAVE FREE BABYSITTING.

That last part is not a big deal or anything.

Lots of love,

SR

Wait For It.

There are two words that no one would ever use to describe me: quiet and patient. As a young kid, I thought patient people were still as they waited for their turn at the dentist. No one makes any sudden moves. Just quiet, still. Waiting.

I was never quiet or still. I would never be patient. I even had a boyfriend call me Varuna Salt ("I WANT IT NOOOOOOOOOW!")

In high school, I had a wonderful English teacher who would say "Patience is a virtue, the essence you know not yet." It became mantra but to the point where you no longer even noticed the words, you just heard the cadence. It sunk in but not with much impact.

Truly, until very recently, I would have told you that hustle is what gets you places. Waiting for the world to call your number is a fool's errand. You could die waiting. You want it? Go get it.

Oh my god. I am Alexander Hamilton.

But here is the thing, today, something occurred to me while on my yoga mat. Life is measured in millimeters, not miles. Patience is a verb. Patience is work. Patience is not passive. 

Patience is trusting in the process. It is showing up for yourself and your dreams everyday or on the days you can. It is being patient with yourself, with God/The Universe's timing while doing the work, and putting out the frequency to attract coconspirators and for wisdom to know what the next step will be.

I did not show up to yoga on the first day and bust out crazy moves. It was a process, a journey. Each drop of sweat, each inhale, each exhale brings me closer to my goals, to myself. It is incremental. You can not bulldoze yourself into poses. I mean, you can try. It is dangerous. It much better to work towards them. It is better to be patient.

The busier I get in my life, the easier it is get into a routine and trust that each day will bring me closer to my goals. It can make the days zoom by without noticing the millimeter of progress made. How Z has grown up and changed, how my flowers in my garden are healthier. We often look to measure things in such a way that shows immediate and dramatic results. Anyone who bakes with yeast or has lost weight will tell you, it is a process, a journey. It requires hard work on a regular basis but it also requires patience. You don't get wine just from crushed grapes. Time is an ingredient. 

You cannot make delicious cakes, chicken wings or anything else if you are rushing the process. You must have discipline enough to back off a bit and be easy. It will come if you take the steps. you cannot jam a square peg into a round hole.

This week, months of planning, talking and dreaming will pay off. My parents are moving here to Pennsylvania to live on our street. Ron is about to start a wonderful new career adventure. My career is starting to move in the right direction. It feels like the rose bush of my life is blooming after much tender love and care. There was only so much I could do to make it happen, I did those things and then it was time to let it bloom.

So, if you are in the deep dark hole of life, if you feel as if sometimes you are absolutely no where, you just have to keep showing up, keep walking, trust the process

and wait for it. 

"Honey, There Is No Right Way."

This song is one of my absolute favorites. It could have been written by me if I had an ounce of musical talent. I love it so much. 

I do, in fact, fall in love just a little or a little bit every day with someone new. I love people. I find them endlessly fascinating. 

But, my favorite part: "would things be easier if there was a right way? Honey, there is no right way."

THERE. IS. NO. RIGHT. WAY.

It is giving you permission. There is no right way to be a woman. To be gay. To be a mother. To be a teacher. To be a human being. There are literally millions of ways to exist and you get to choose what that means. It gives me permission.

Today, with the chaos in Europe and a world that feels so untethered from reality, it is an important reminder that we do not have control over much. We do have control over ourselves, so why not just throw caution to the wind and live out loud? Or quietly if that more your thing. 

There is no right way to live, to react, to be. So, just do the damn thing. Stop worrying so much.

Next week is gonna be bananas for me, but first, we get the weekend.

Go fall in love. With yourself. With humanity. With Nature.

Lighthouses.

Yesterday, I went by my local coffee roaster to pick up an iced coffee. You may think this is no big deal but it really is. It really really is. One, I live in the middle of nowhere but somehow have a coffee roaster 10 minutes from my house. They even carry the ever trendy nitro cold brew. Two, the family that owns and runs the coffee roasting gazebo is straight up and down AMAZING.

A family of six kids and a mom and a dad, the Burkholders are all awesome sauce in their own right. Each member of the family is special and original and honestly, they are just so cool. But, if I had to pick, my favorite member would be their mother, Lynne. 

Lynne is the kind of person who inspires you to think, read and investigate. She is a seeker. She is fierce. She is independent. A christian woman who is constantly investigating the world, her purpose and how those things work in tandem. She enjoys challenging status quo. She wants to walk the path of christianity with love. She is a lighthouse.

For example, she runs a home school group called The Wider School, where she encourages the students to question things. She had a speaker on climate change (which is controversial out here in rural PA.) She has run retreats for women about the cycle of domestic abuse. I just love talking to her so much. When discussing trans rights and issues, she discussed a trans person she knows and used the right pronouns. 

I love people who are on a mission for the truth. I love people who are authentic. I love people who own their power. Lynne is so powerful. She is smart and loving and all the kinds of things that make you want to be better. She is a lighthouse. She protects those at sea by shining out her light, her authentic self. She is a lighthouse.

In a world filled with so much untruth, so much ugliness, so many dark and shadowy spots, we need more lighthouses. I am grateful to Lynne. Being a lighthouse is hard work. Being your true self, can be challenging. Her light allows the rest of us to see ourselves better.

Who are your lighthouses?

Loathing.

This is a post about self love. But not really. But it is. I don't know.

There is exactly nothing you could say to me that I have not said to myself. There is no insult you could hurl at me, word you could call me or disdain you could toss my way that I have not said to myself. I am easily and without question my own worst critic and enemy. 

Listen, I am awesome. I really am. I am kind, funny, charming, funny. I am a great cook, I love deeply. I am fiercely loyal and have a great laugh. I am strong and work hard. I am self aware and creative. I like to have fun and live life to the fullest.

But when I fall down the deep dark hole of depression and self-hate, I really lean into it. I know where all the bodies are buried. I know my weak spots. I can find a needle in the haystack of my brain if I must but it usually is not that hard, to be honest. And once the snowball starts rolling, it only gains momentum and size. It really only ends once I ride it all the way down to the bottom of the hill or runs into a tree.

The worst part is when I realize it is happening and then beat myself up for beating myself up. Like, shit, woman, how dare you treat yourself this way! YOU ARE LIKE SUPER DUPER AWFUL. It is straight up paralyzing. 

I am fat. I am ugly. I said something that was unkind or downright hurtful. I was ungenerous with compliments. I talked over someone in conversation. I ignored a friend in need. My house is dirty. My papers are unorganized. I need to quit procrastinating and write a blog post. I was short with my family. I spent too my time on my phone when I should have been giving Z or Ron my full attention. I am a subpar mother, wife, daughter. sister, cousin. I am loud. I am loud. I am SO FUCKING LOUD. I said something inappropriate. I was not a good friend.

Listen, I could write this list until we all turn to dust. I really could. But when I start to come out of the drunken haze of self hate I am in, I pull back and think about my friend Vanessa. Oh, you guys. My friend Vanessa is lovely. She is pretty and smart and passionate. She is devoted and wonderful and honest and such a great friend to me. She is honest and supportive and sweet. I would never ever ever ever want to hurt her. In fact, even when I am honest with her it is from a place of kindness. I trust her to make her own choices. I know she will do what makes her happiest. And if Vanessa were in my shoes, I would be kind and empathetic to her. Because I love Vanessa.

So, I try to talk to myself as if I were giving Vanessa advice. I would say what she would say to me. Which is basically, you are gorgeous and smart and powerful. You maybe feeling yucky and bad right now but that is not the full picture of who you are. You might think that you are not worthy of love, happiness or even cake, but that is not true. You just have to keep walking and there will be light. 

It works. 

So, if last week was terrible and you spent a lot of time beating up on yourself, crying or being terrible, first, forgive yourself. Then, talk to yourself like you are talking to your best friend. Talk to yourself the way your best friend would talk to you. Picture their face. Know that your thoughts, faults and fears are not the full picture. You are more.

Keep walking. There will be light. 

Hey, Laaaaaaaadiessssssss!

So, I am still dealing with the emotions and helplessness from the horrific shootings in Orlando over the weekend. I have friends who were directly affected and, honestly, the internet has not been all that helpful. 

So, I am here to tell you all about my two favorite things that are making me laugh, think and forget all about the horrible shit going on in the real world. Even better? These are both entertainment with women talking about actual real shit. Smart shit. They are loud, opinionated and curse like sailors. HI, BEST FRIENDS.

Broad City

Abbi & Ilana are the greatest. Their misadventures in NYC combined with their smart mouths and naughty habits make me laugh so hard. I love that they talk and act like real women. I love that they are messy and make bad choices. If you are easily offended, this show is not for you. Also, if you are easily offended, how do you even endure me?

Another Round 

Heben & Tracy are buzzed writers turned podcasters who slay. YOU GUYS. I cannot explain to you how much I love this podcast. It is smart, funny, thought provoking and just generally encouraging. I love how silly Tracy's Joke Time gets. I love when the guests (mostly POCs) open up and share stuff they either do not get asked by traditional media people or would never tell a traditional interviewer. My favorite episodes so far have been Roxane Gay (if you don't know, google her, follow her twitter account & get your life right) and NPR's Audie Cornish. This podcast fills the hole in my soul that misses all the fabulous black women I went to high school with. It also makes me think and see issues in new lights or discover new ideas. It is also hilarious.

So, yeah, this week has been a beast. You deserve to pour yourself a drink and let these ladies entertain you.

What are you currently into? What show should I binge on next?

A Long Way Back To The Light.

I have really been struggling with how to articulate my feelings about the shootings in Orlando over the weekend. I have been reading others' reflections and feelings. I have been posting and sending out messages of love and support to my friends who lost friends. I have been checking in on my LGBT friends and sending them my love and support.

It has been a lot of input. 

When I found out the number of souls lost and injured on Sunday morning, I was out in public. All the air in my body escaped at once and I was so lightheaded I had to sit down for 20 minutes before I could even stand again. I was dizzy most of the day.

I watched my friend Alex publicly struggle to find out if her friends were safe and deal with the idea that a safe place she spent a lot of time in college was now violated. I love you, Alex.

In yoga, there is an idea that our asana (physical yoga practice) serves as a fire to burn away the impurities in our mind and body so that only the truth and authentic remain. It is like in nature, a forest fire, when naturally occurring, burns away the gunk on the forest floor to cleanse and renew the forest's ecosystem. 

In my mind, the searing anger and frustration and helplessness I felt immediately was the fire that burned away to leave behind a deep, black, smoldering sorrow. My heart is broken. For my friends, for my country, for Orlando. 

I really only know one thing and that is that I know nothing. That is why I am doing the only thing I can do, which is my best. I am trying to take care of my corner of the world with love and kindness and tenderness. The evil that would do something like this is so big, so daunting. It often times feels like David versus Goliath. But I know that if I can just put one foot in front of the other in love, I will continue to move back towards the light.

If you are hurting and need to talk, I am here for you. You are loved. You are important. 

"It's a long road up to recovery from here, a long way back to the light."

Grandma

Seven years ago, I was working on a governor's race in Virginia. It is common for staffers or volunteers who are working on campaigns to be housed by friends of the campaign or candidate.  I got very lucky and stayed with a group of humans so wonderful, I still think of the two daughters as my little sisters. The Heinitz Family is amazing and I miss them! Hi, guys!

As a way of thanking them for putting up with me for the month I worked on the campaign, I set about to make them dinner. It was a warm and humid evening in May and I was running all over their kitchen getting things ready and sweating my ass off when my mother called.

"Stephanie, you need to get on a plane. Your grandmother is not well and we think the end may be near."

So, I called Ron, who immediately booked me a ticket out of National Airport in DC, finished making dinner, threw all my junk into my suitcase and headed for the airport. I got off the plane, into my mom's car and went straight to see my grandmother, who my mother felt would not make it to morning.

I dropped my bags and walked into her room. "Grandma. Wake up. It is me. I am here."

She looked up at me.

"Stephanie, What. Did. You. Do. To. Your. HAIR?"

Um, hi? I just rushed her from DC where only hours earlier I was making dinner for some very nice people and it is May and it is hot and so my sweaty greasy hair is up in messy bun but I am here now to see you and this is what might be your last words to me ever?

No matter that she was having trouble breathing and she was under hospice care and showing all the signs of an immediate end. My hair. 

Thankfully, she made it through that night and I got to spend the next week at her side with her sister, Nancy. She would roll her eyes at us when we insisted she eat. She would laugh and cry and I hold those memories very closely to my heart. She would really only eat if I or my uncle Mike were feeding her.

In fact, I would chide her and tell her stories while I fed her in hopes I would keep her distracted so she would eat more. I feel strongly that I get my bubbly, life of the party personality from her and my grandpa. She was always charming the pants off of people. I like to think I got some of that.

But as I chattered away, she stopped me. Mid sentence.

"Stephanie. TOO. MANY. WORDS."

Pot? Meet Kettle.

When I had to go back to finish my work on the campaign, I said goodbye to her for the last time. She would be gone in the next week. That was seven years ago.

I often think about calling her to tell something funny or to send her a picture of me with my hair down, make up done and in a pretty dress. She never got to meet Zachary, who I think would have made her heart grow three sizes. I think about her every time I smell or see a gardenia because she loved them and would float the gentle flowers in bowls around the house. 

I miss her deeply but know that her love still reaches through to me still. I am also pretty sure she still yells at me for biting my finger nails or putting my hair behind my ears, too.

So, You Wanna Start a Whole30?

ARE YOU CRAZY?!

Nah, just kidding. You read my blog, so you obviously are insane. 

It turns out that if you do enough Whole30s and post about it incessantly on social media, people start to ask you for advice, tips or just general support. It has happened at least three times over social media and even more times in person. 

I look at Whole 30 the way most people look at Jesus. I don't need Jesus/Whole 30 because I am perfect, I need Jesus/Whole30 because I am a hot hot HOT mess. Like, I eat like an unsupervised child at a birthday party if left to my own devices. Being a talented home cook is unhelpful. A long time ago, I made myself a deal that if I wanted junk food, I had to make it from scratch myself. It slows you down because most times I am just too damn lazy to fry my own french fries ya know? But I have gotten scary efficient at baking cookies and brownies, so my rule had to be repealed.

I do Whole30 when I need to make better choices while eating, when I need to be mindful and not just chasing the food pleasure dragon. Yeah, I am addicted to food. COME AT ME BRO AND BRING CUPCAKES. I also do it when I am preparing for a trip or after the trip or if I am trying to look good in a dress at a wedding. I have full out completed 30 day three different times. Sometimes, I do a quick Whole15 or do it until I just cannot do it any longer because cake.

So, I have  bunch of experience eating by the rules of Whole30 and I have some tips and tricks and suggestions. And, listen, like with any and everything I do and say in real life or on my blog, my life is not your life. My body is not your body. You gotta do you. 

So, to begin, the Whole30 is both hard and not hard. I am very attached to food as a reward, so taking away my "yay you survived the week" ice cream cone is a big bummer. No corn in July while living in rural PA where the corn is like omg the best shit ever, is hard. (you will not see me doing a full Whole30 in July. No, m'am.) But you do not have to count points or calories or any of that stuff and for me, that makes it cake. Okay, not cake but you know what I mean.

I highly encourage anyone who is doing a Whole30 to research their website and social accounts. They are excellent resource. My favorite is the Whole30 Timeline. The timeline is helpful because taking away sugar, grain and dairy can be rough on your body and emotions. The timeline helps me realize that the crazy I am feeling is just part of the process and that it will pass...eventually. Every Whole30 I have done has been slightly different. The sugar hangover on day 2-3 has been AWFUL and also nonexistent. Just be aware. This helps when you want to give up because every single person in your life is making you stabby.

Planning is so key. If you have food you can eat nearby, you will eat that and you won't be hungry/mad/sad/freaking the fuck out because you are hungry and then make bad choices. Planning meals ahead for the week helps me, buying snacks that I can eat and keeping them in places I can get them and knowing, at all times, where the closest Chipotle is are all super important.

Ghee is your friend. Buy Ghee. Make Ghee. Whatever. But, friend, if you like to eat and are doing a whole30, you need ghee. Ghee is basically butter with the milk solids removed. It has a higher smoke point, which means it is great for pan-frying or grilling. You can use it on a baked potato, you can brush meat with it. IT IS COMPLIANT BUTTER. You need it. Just trust me.

You will eat a lot of eggs. It just is how it is. But here is where my advice diverges from the official Whole30 program, do not freak out about sugar in bacon. Sugar is part of the meat curing process. Sugarless bacon is expensive and tastes awful. It is hard to find. Now, if you are a rule follower, I get it. You go get yourself some sugarless bacon. But, if you are like me, busy and like delicious bacon, I say you can have regular bacon. I have never obeyed the sugarless bacon rule on any of my whole30s and have received all the benefits that the program offers. So. There is that. Yay BACON!

Now, if you are looking for recipe inspiration, fear not, I got you. First, though, you need to know that KISS (Keep It Simple, Stupid) works really well here. Meat, veggies, fruit. That is all you need. You do not have to make crazy fancy shit. You do not have to slave over it. Grill a meat, steam/grill/roast a veggie or make a salad. BOOM. Dinner. That is how I run shit over in my house and it works. However, if you are not entirely confident in your cooking ability or you want more ideas/inspiration/replacements for things you used to love to eat, here is a list of blogs I trust:

• Nom Nom Paleo
• Against All Grain
• The Kitchenista
• Well Fed

Three of those bloggers have books you can buy on amazon. I recommend all of them. 

In terms of whole30 world stuff I have tried and liked/loved/use on the regular, below is a list that is pretty comprehensive. I buy most of this stuff at Target or the grocery store but did get the creamer above from Whole Foods. Amazon is also a great resource for paleo/whole30 stuff.

1. Califia Farms Nondairy Creamers with no added junk.
2. La Croix Starking Water (Grapefruit & Cherry-Lime are my favorites)
3. Rao's Marinara Sauce
4. Pure Indian Foods Ghee
5. Lara Bars (Cashew Cookie is my favorite.)
6. Kirkland Signature Unsweetened Applesauce Pouches
7. Canned Pineapple, Peaches or Pears (all in natural Juices)
8. Justin's Unsweetened Almond Butter

I know it can seem super overwhelming. Hello, this blog post is basically a novel without sexy vampires and shit. But I am here for you. If you have any questions, you can leave them in the comments or tweet or email me. 

Whole30 makes me feel better. It really does. I do it because it is an easy set of guidelines to follow that I know will be worth it after a few weeks. 

Future Me.

My friend, Claire, likes to talk to her past and future selves. Sometimes, she'll be pleased that her past self, despite her drunkeness, saved enough pizza to eat the next morning. Sometimes, she will apologize to her future self who will be really disappointed with her current self for not going to bed at reasonable hour on a Sunday night. I love this idea. I love that we are separate from those selves but the same.

It really wasn't until I had Zachary that I became in tune and concerned over my future self. When the only person you have to worry about is yourself, past present or future, it is easy to just make due in the moment. Improvise. This is especially true for someone like me who is generally disorganized when it comes to nonessential home life type things. ADHD is also really unhelpful when planning out very specific details.

However, once I had another person completely depending on me to actually have my ever-loving shit together, I had to start thinking about my future self. Think about it. It is Monday morning and everyone is trying to get out of the door. Wouldn't Monday morning me be less stressed if the fridge is stocked for the week and Sunday night me had packed Z's lunch and school bag? Monday morning me would be so happy you have no idea.

Would July 10 wedding guest me be happy if for the month leading up to the wedding date I stopped treating my body like a human dumpster for sugar and salt and carbs? July 10th me REALLY would. 

I think most of this feeling is what it means to grow up and be an adult. It is hard to stop what I am doing and prep dinner in the middle of the day. It can be a huge undertaking to get myself to yoga when I would rather just not thank you. It can be frustrating and difficult to not bake and eat chocolate chips cookies. But, when I think about future me and what she would want me to be doing, it is the hard stuff. The stuff that will make the future easier.

I often think about who I am through the eyes of my 13 year old self. I think she would really be knocked out by where I have found myself and who I am. I think that she would think I was a bad ass. She may not have thought much about current me, but it was every step she took that turned her into me.

It's Like Wow.

I don't know about you, but June can be killer around here. Things are busy, transitioning from the regular to the summer. People we love are graduating, moving, turning 30/21/1 and our summer weekends are getting packed with plans. It is all good things but it really starts to over work your brain and makes it hard to sit still enough to read a blog post, let alone write one. So, here, on this Monday, I thought I would make a list of shit I am digging right now. That way, I have a post done and I can go, you know, send cards to all the grads, dads and birthday boys & girls we know this month!

Or sit on my couch and be overwhelmed about everything. Whatever.

1. We love the pool at our country club! It is awesome, rarely crowded and they have servers who will BRING YOU FOOD AND ALCOHOL. Like, hi. Saturday afternoon, we went and ended up having such a nice time we stayed to have an early dinner. It is lovely. I hope we spend a lot of time here this summer.
2. Today, I am starting the #livemorechallange on instagram. The challenge was started by Sarah Jenks in an effort to encourage self care. Each day, she challenges participants to do something small to enhance their life. Today, I am buying myself flowers. You can follow me on instagram and even doing in yourself but clicking on Sarah's name! 
3. Yay! I am doing another Whole30! I am gonna post about this in the coming weeks. Like, how I do it, tips I have, etc. GET PUMPED.
4. I am obsessed with Angela Davis on twitter and her blog . She is funny and her food is outrageous. I am planning on making her Lemon & Herb Grilled Chicken Breast tonight for dinner. 
5. I am on snapchat and I love it. I do dumb things. I sing, I dance, I post videos of Z. You can follow me @rubyjnkie. Even my mom is following me. So.
6. Beck's new song, WOW.

I have some crazy stuff going on in my life that I promise to update you about soon, but in the meantime, I hope you all are doing well!

Have any crazy summer plans/goals? Tell me in the comments!

Things That I Want...

...but cannot have because I am on a whole30.

1. A Mint Julep.
2. Pizza Hut Pepperoni Pizza.
3. A Frozen Peach Bellini from cheesecake Factory.
4. Brownies.
5. A huge piece of cake. Yellow Cake. Chocolate Frosting.
6. Quesadillas.
7. Chicken Fingers.
8. Caprese Salad.
9. Rita's Frozen Custard in a cake cone with rainbow sprinkles.
10. LASAGNE.
11. Belgian Waffles. Not real ones. With the pearl sugar.
12. Schnitzel & Spatzel.
13. A piña colada.
14. Fried Chicken and Waffles.
15. Spaghetti and Meatballs.
16. Pie.
17. A fruit crisp.
18. More Pie.
19. Pirogies.
20. Dumplings.
21. Sushi.
22. Black beans and rice.
23. BANANA PUDDING.
24. Whipped Cream.
25. Creme Brûlée.
26. Cream of Asparagus Soup.
27. BRIE.
28. Jam on toast.
29. Champagne.
30. Bourbon.
31. Pretzels.
32. Instant Ramen

This is just off the top of my head in 10 minutes. I have a problem. That problem is that I love food more than I love anything else besides Z and Ron.

I have 26 more days of this Whole30. Then, IT IS MY BIRTHDAY.

So. 

Magical Bean Paste

You know how there is this silly idea that "love is the secret ingredient" in some one's cooking? I have complicated feelings about it. I mean, "love" can mean that the person who made the food gave a damn and that can really go a long way in making good food. Giving a damn can mean that they were patient when it was necessary, delicate when required and used good ingredients. But maybe just good ingredients are the secret ingredients? 

See? It all kind of gets you to the same place.

In my case, when I bake, I most certainly give a damn and I think that shows up when you eat my cooking. I use farm fresh eggs with deep orange yolks, good chocolate and chocolate powder and real butter and cream. But if I had to pick one thing that makes the biggest difference?

It is really good vanilla. Nielsen-Massey is my go to.

Now, if you have baked before you already know how and when to use vanilla. Use good stuff. Your food will taste better. Okay. But what if you want to take your cooking next level?

You need the bean paste, man.

Now, there is no need to be scared, you can use it teaspoon for teaspoon in recipes that call for extract. It is more like a gel filled with vanilla bean seeds than a paste. Remember when you were a kid and you figured out that the really good vanilla ice cream had the speckles in it? THIS STUFF IS THE SPECKLES.

You can really put it anywhere you put vanilla. Cookies, cakes, ice cream, etc. I find that the biggest impact is when I make light colored frostings, the beans are visible (see my background image for what I mean) or whipped cream! The flavor is intense vanilla and that is the best kind of vanilla.

I also love to pour a splash in the fruit that I am using in a fruit crisp. It looks, tastes and smells amazing. 

In fact, I used it this past weekend to make this strawberry-rhubarb crisp. You just need to add a teaspoon or so in the fruit mixture. People will like it and think you are some kind of magic fruit wizard or something.

Trust me.