Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Finding The Strength For Strength

Some days, it's easy to get the rock rollin'. Some days that smooth little rock teeters at the top of a hill and if you look at it the right way it rolls down the hill practically all on its own. Other days, that flipping rock is twice as tall as me and square. I have to strain to push it TO the hill and perhaps even up a hill before it's ready to go down the other side. And honestly, some times I don't have the strength to move that rock, if much at all. It can be so defeating when that happens. Stupid, big, ugly, fat rock!
But you know what, some days you have to make peace with that rock. You can call both it and yourself all of the most colorfully ugly things in the book, but you're only going to make yourself feel worse, and all that anger isn't going to convince it to move. Perhaps, instead of trying to move it, one could do something else. Maybe one could just climb up and take a seat. Breathe some air, and accept where you are that day. Take a look around and absorb what you can see from the top, how far you have already helped it roll.

I'm thankful that the rock wasn't too heavy today. As I march, on the stair climber at 12:23 am after working nine hours, I am thankful to have the health and the strength to work my body today.
I started a squat challenge with a friend in an online active support group, and it's been hard to start! But once I get into position and sink my weight down, it makes me happy. By the time I reach however many squats I need to (today was 60) I feel undefeated and strong. Way to finish day three Lady!
To be outdoors in Mid November, with the sun shining and in light layers, is also another thong to be truly grateful for. The fall has been not only very beautiful, but very kind as well.
Beans to use as chili soaking in the pot overnight, ground beef defrosting, is something to look forward to for tomorrow, my mid week day off that is the best.
Now to stretch, shower, refuel, and rest. Goodnight.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Simple Joys

It's ever so important to remember the things throughout the day that made you feel good in any way.
After a morning routine of breakfast and getting dressed, sprinkled with attempts to do laundry and dishes, Lucy and I headed out to Hannafords to pick up some things for the week. It was one of those times that sitting in a carriage for X amount of time pleased Lucy. She squealed with delight as we buckled up, then demanded that I "Run! Fast!" from the car into the store. Now one might notice the awkward looks we get as we run and scream across the parking lot. However it's worth the giggles and excited arm flaps that come from the creature I've strapped into the cart. I can't help but smile and laugh...
We bomb around the store talking about whatever attracts her interest. I was also honking her nose and trying to push the carriage without letting her hands touch mine while making a really funny pretend fuss. We finished up with another dash across the parking lot, weaving around pedestrians and carefully watching for cars. Times like these make my heart feel fun and light.
The middle hunk of day was neutral and uneventful. A short blip of time playing outside in the gorgeous day, a quick nap for Lucy and a trip to the chiropractor for my little family. The drive was long, as his office moved, but it was a lovely drive. The roads were smooth and the towns, beautiful. Our visit went well and we headed home.
As my mind wandered on the drive home, something popped into my head. The whole thought of a house hunt made me ponder how my credit was faring with my negligence to pay my over three hundred dollar a month payment. I finally sucked it up and called my loan company. I had heard of income-based repayment and hoped that I could take that route. I am so thankful I called. The company brought my account current and gave me an incredibly easy monthly payment that I would never have to worry about until I get a better paying job. Such an incredible weight had been lifted from my shoulders knowing I wasn't doomed to be drowned in payments any time soon. And able to keep the credit I've earned for myself! The thought!!!
In the evening, I let my inner cook shine. I boiled some chicken stock, made a successful attempt at salsa Verde with tomatillos I had been given, and endeavored in some very therapeutic sourdough bread making. I pulled up a step stool for Lucy to stand level at the counter at my side. We poured (most) ingredients into the bowl and stirred it until it needed to be kneaded. I plopped the mass onto the counter. I laid Lucy's hands over it, and pressed gently down on her hands with mine. Then I showed her with my hands how to fold the dough. We sang and pressed the dough together for a few minutes and I felt happy. Of course, toddlers will be toddlers and when she asked, I released her to go cause trouble elsewhere.
I continued to work the dough and hum random melodies. I slowed my kneading and just let my hands sink slowly into the dough, then gently folding and squeezing it. I have made bread many times, but never like this. It felt so good to not rush the process. The dough turned into something that I've never managed to accomplish. It was fluffy and completely the same through out. It even appeared to bubble as I worked it. Maybe it was the love and happiness that was happening in that moment. Maybe Lucy is just a master bread maker and every loaf her little dimpley hands touched was going to be perfect. Either way, I can't wait to slide that loaf into the oven.
I put an end to Lucy's day with an Epson salt and lavender bath. Then we went to her room while I used a hair dryer to dry all of her little rolls and heat the coconut oil I rubbed all over her skin. She screamed and giggled and took little breaks to enjoy being rubbed. For the first time, she rolled onto her belly so I could oil her back, arms and neck. She laid there and pretended to sleep for quite some time. I was so astonished that she didn't try to escape and run away as fast as she could, naked and screaming. Finally I convinced her to put on her pajamas so we could say goodnight to Grammy and Pappy and read books. After the night time I love you's, Lucy and I curled up in bed with a blanket and read by only the light from her night lights. When we had gone through the pile at least once, I scooped her up and we sang some lullabies. It's so sweet to hear her sing the songs back to me. I laid her down and told her I love her. She quietly returned the gesture as I walked out of the room. It's my favorite when I can leave and she doesn't get sad.
Now I'm left to have some one on one mommy time and unwind before bed. A steamy shower and some cranberry juice. What a glorious day to end my weekend.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Keeping The Storm Off The Coast


The edge has been creeping back the past few days, but at least I understand why. Ryan and I (Mostly Ryan), have been totally working our buns off. For the first time ever, I have a full-time job. I am making steady income. Ryan is finally back to work after a significant left finger (the nose picking one) incident leave. Ryan has also been getting overtime every single week. 
At the end of the week last week, I had a significant realization that owning a house was now a tangible goal. 
Ryan, Lucy, and Myself having our own little place.
I have felt incredibly homeless since my mother and step father lost our house to bankruptcy in the fall of 2008. That's more than six years feeling unsettled about it. No matter what I did, I just never felt at home anywhere. Well... besides my Grandparents house in upper state Vermont. But they are trying to sell it anyways... The days I've spent there since I've found that out have been heavily fogged with knowing I would not always be welcome at that sanctuary. It already feels unwelcoming and foreign. But, I regress...
Needless to say, the second Ryan mentioned that, one day we would have a house together, I've been totally and completely obsessed by the idea. And I didn't want to just rent a house under the watchful eye of some ever-present landlord. I wanted to OWN a house. I wanted it to be my little family's little piece of heaven where we could do what suited us as a family. And we would never have to move, unless of course, that's what we wanted!
Until now, that desire had been completely a dream. I wasn't working enough, Ryan wasn't working at all. But lately, we've been doing a pretty good job figuring things out for ourselves. It isn't easy. But we are doing much better. So, just out of pondering, I found myself Google-ing a mortgage estimate. Low and behold, Ryan and I could "afford that easy". Those words are straight out of Ryan's mouth. 
I immediately found myself searching for homes in the area and falling dearly in love with some of them. Dreaming about things I would love to do and have there. What it would be like. How it would be better than where we are now. How I could make it my own. All of these thoughts making me feel incredibly excited and slightly on the edge. One might say, Anxious.
The sun begins to disappear behind some grey clouds moving in, and the anxiety finds its way back into the forecast for my brain realm.
I begin to get these "What if" feelings. What if we buy a house and something terrible happens? What happens if we can't afford it? Will it tear us apart? Will it tear me apart? Will Lucy feel homeless like I do? I would never ever want that for her...
Between my two parents, who were together, but then divorced in my early years, and other things, I've had around 20 homes. 
My favorite home was in Hardwick. It was a decent-sized, three bedroom house with a little yard. It was the first time I had ever had my own bedroom with four large windows to look out and kept my room light (I mean most of the times I was too lazy to open the shades but now a days I am less lazy and love windows). I picked the color of the room, the rug, and the sheets. I didn't put up curtains because I thought they were dumb. I built the pre-fab desk and utility cabinet myself. It made me feel like a bad-ass to have built them! This was my little space! My mother kept the yard looking adorable. Between the apple trees, the hosta bushes, the little bush-like trees, the maple tree and the tiger lilies, the yard was neatly kept. Well, that was until we got a golf cart. This thing was equipped with a snow mobile engine and ripped around like you wouldn't believe. I could pile all of my friends on there and tear that thing across the fields and off a bump on the hill. My friends would have to hold onto the roll bar for their flipping lives. The living room was huge! We had a beautiful pool table, which occasionally was reason for a fun family activity (family activities are few and far between). The living room had a pellet stove I could lean against and warm up under my favorite pair of hideously awkward pajamas. There was plenty of room in there, so I could put my saddles under the window and they were right there when I felt like cleaning them. I could also stare out the living room window, and watch my beautiful horses graze on a huge plot of land many horse owners would literally kill over. I would call to my girls as I got off of the bus and they would call back. Even though we did not own the land, I was still fortunate enough to enjoy the beauty of it even from my own home. I could go and visit my horses whenever I wanted. It was my responsibility to care for them and I loved it. I give them all the thanks I can for keeping me out of the troubles that many of my peers fell into. This place is home to many of my favorite childhood memories.
Things didn't stay well forever though. The last year or two we lived there, my parents fell into financial hardship. Our meals became more bland, the snack cabinet stayed empty. My mom stopped cooking, and painting and being artsy. My parents started fighting more. Yelling, screaming, swearing every night. But at least I had my own room. Then the winter came. The house was so cold. I remember feeling cold all of the time. I found myself a boyfriend that my mom hated. Some of the negative energy was then focused on me and I was put out of sorts. Of course I chose to stay with the boyfriend, so relations between my parents and I only got worse. Eventually I moved to college, and my parents lost the home. I had no say in what things of mine or our family's (that I didn't take to college) got thrown or was kept. My boyfriend at the time, broke into the house afterwards and did some shady things out of spite that was blamed on my parents. I was too stubborn to ask for help from my parents and I tried mooching off my friends. I said things I never should have and burned even the strongest of bridges. I started becoming irresponsible and my beautiful horses suffered. Their paddock broke and they kept getting out. I didn't have enough money to feed them appropriately so they kept going to other places to look for food. I was too stubborn to find them homes because I didn't want to lose them too. I ended up losing them anyways. My life at my favorite home ended in a nightmare.
I lost amazing friends forever.
My precious horses suffered.
I threw my relationship with my beloved mother away.
I lost my sense of home.
I gained many feelings of sickening guilt and disgust for myself. 
The weather is Snow. Silent, quiet, cold. Snow.
 
So if Ryan and I got a house, would we spend our winters cold and hungry? Would we ever be able to care for our family? Would we be able to care for our home? Would I ever be able to own a horse again? Would we lose our home too? Would it tear us apart? How would it be for Ryan and Lucy?
It pains me to think of these things, and terrifies me. I know I should be smart, and that all of these things could happen. If they do, it won't be the end of the world like before. We wouldn't let it get that bad. Right?
 
So right now, my brain is very much like New England weather. The sun is out and clear, clouds creep out of nowhere and cloud the sky, thunder rumbles in the distance. A few rain drops fall here and there. Sometimes a gust of wind. But so far, I've been able to keep the storm in the distance. 
 
It's so lovely to have something to look forward too. A wonderful goal that is now becoming a reality. I should be cautious not fearful, but sometimes it is hard to keep the storm at bay.  

Like Weather

Within my daily travels, I've heard several people compare the brain and how it works to the weather. 

The more I ponder this, the more I believe it to be true. 

Lately, my brain has given me lovely mild weather. Some days its sunny, others, cloudy. Not too much rain, and no threatening storms. I can't complain at all. It's the most mild weather my brain has endured for some time now. 
I've come to the realization that I had been suffering from (postpartum?) depression. I had done what I could to cope with overwhelming feelings of anxiety, sadness, loneliness, anger, and other not so nice weather. Sometimes I was able to relieve these feeling through strenuous physical exercise. It made me feel so good to channel all of these negative emotions into effort to release them. It was easy to become addicted to the release of endorphins that happened after an hour long sweat fest. Over time, however, I completely exhausted myself. I seldom would allow for rest days, and when I didn't exercise, this large fat and guilty cloud would sink over my head and cause me to feel some sort of failure. Never allowing for a break to even breathe. I slowly began dreading physical exercise because my body would refuse to co-operate with these expectations I had laid out for myself. Like I said, exhaustion. I began to seek out ways to cure exhaustion so I could keep up with my strenuous work outs. 
Food.
Lots and lots of food. 
Oh I could eat whenever I wanted because I was so great about eating clean. When you eat nothing but healthy food, it should easily be converted to energy and strength. If I get tired, I just need to eat more. Right?
I developed this insatiable hunger. My stomach would bloat and beg me to stop, but I could not. I still felt that hunger. After eating half a family sized box of organic granola and full fat plain yogurt, I decided I needed help. 
Like, serious help.
I felt like I was completely powerless and I could not stop. A legitimate addiction. I had picked up a brochure about hypno weight-loss. I had been putting it off, but then I figured, what the hell. So, I finally called Donna, who was very pleasant, over the phone and arranged a meeting. When I arrived, we both agreed my eating habits were due to anxiety. Most of my weight was kept in my mid line because I was always so on the edge. I'm not going to even lie about how terrified I was to be hypnotized. I can't even tell you why, but my heart was racing when I entered the room. However, the procedure (if you will) was so much more relaxing than I could have imagined. I never lost consciousness, and I felt completely relaxed. Of course my mind was all over the place through the entire session, especially with a few claps of thunderous, angry doubt. However, I noticed an immediate difference when we had finished. 
It has been two weeks, and I've been managing to keep not only my eating habits, but my anxiety has lessened significantly. The rain stopped, the clouds opened up, and the sun peeked through. It has been great to have a break from that lousy weather.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

English muffins and snow.



It's snowing again.

So many people are displeased about it, I don't mind though. It's the cold that's getting to me my house hasn't been consistently above sixty in over a month. It's not so bad though. I've been eating a ton of food and snuggling up to Lucy and Ryan at night. Some days I even wear leggings under my Pj pants but its super cozy. I've also rediscovered  my lost love for coffee. And yes, I've been putting cream in it (for the first time in two years).

My drive home tonight was gorgeous. It was mostly dark leaving the barn, and definitely all of the way dark by the time I got home. We received a little more than a dusting of snow, but it was beautiful. Whether it's because of the environmental conditions, or because I've been practicing mindfulness, the snow was shimmering. It twinkled as it lay motionless on the pavement I drove upon, and also as it fell from the sky. It was amazing! It was a great way to end my daily travels.

The weather also has me leveling up my domestic abilities. Even though I've tried to stay clear of wheat, I love making bread. Today I tried my luck at homemade English muffins. I wasn't totally pleased with the outcome. Mostly because there were minimal to no nooks and crannies, but that's what I get for trying to rush bread to rise before work. Next time I'll do a better job activating the yeast and waiting out the rising process. I made 14 before work and less than six hour later, there are only two left. It seems everyone else in my house thought they were terrible!

Not a bad way to spend my day. I also had my first ever successful use of the moby baby wrap. This wrap is essentially a long piece of overpriced fabric you wrap your baby and yourself in and hope the baby stays strapped to you. The thought is you can then have the use of both hands when your baby refuses to be anywhere but in your arms. I've wrapped Lucy in it before but then usually had to use an arm to prevent her from falling out, which kind of defeats the purpose. But not today! After ten infuriating minutes for both Lucy and I, we managed our first successful wrap. Getting her situated was the hardest part, and to be honest i really thought I was going to break her legs trying to get them correctly positioned. But we achieved the wrap! I was able to do almost a complete load of dishes and brush my teeth before Lucy insisted on getting down. If my mom hadnt wanted it so badly and didnt spend $50 on it, I wouldn't have much of a problem burning the thing. Wouldn't hurt to have some extra fuel for the woodstove....

Not a bad day at all!



Saturday, February 15, 2014

Lucy: The Great Game Changer.

Munch time.

I consider myself a grazer. I am not one for huge meals where you sit down and eat until you can't move... alright maybe occasionally, but on a day-to-day basis, snack time, all of the time.

As I sit here, only long enough to begin a post, I'm sharing half a bag of Newman's Own All Natural popcorn with my own personal editor, Lucy. Even though she only has known the world barely over a year, she really knows how to write. If I write the wrong thing, she corrects me by ferociously bashing the keyboard with her palms, or in this case, with a teabag she has fished out of an empty mug. This keyboard's days are numbered.

I know I'll only be able to sit here until the popcorn gets boring, or spread all over the floor. But for the moment sitting is wonderful.

It is hard to wrap my mind around the difference between my life before I had Lucy and now.

My practically started over on a new planet.

I have never felt more clueless than when I left the hospital and brought my 8 pound 7.8 ounce bundle of joy into my home. Totally overwhelmed that her little self, her health, her happiness, her safety now totally relied upon no one else but Ryan and I. Ryan was, or at least seemed, comfortable and a natural about the whole thing. I mean, Ryan is as cool as a cucumber and in the years I have known him, I've never seen him legitimately flustered at anything. Not only did he have that going for him, but he has three young nephews that were 2, 4 and 5 at the time.No one in my immediate or even distant family has had a child in a long time. On my father's side, my youngest cousin was 17 years old.On my mother's side, at the age of 19, my sister was the youngest. None of my siters or cousins, none of my friends or even anyone I saw on a regular basis had any children close to new born. It was a realm I had no recent experience in. Being responsible for a completely helpless life was (and by was I mean is) entirely terrifying.

And it was a rough start for us. Even though I took the breastfeeding class, it just wasn't working. It was the day after we brought her home, we were up all night just trying to get anything right, and we were without any luck. Lucy was insatiably crying and not sleeping for more than a half hour at a time and I was so sore it was comparable to natural child birth. The next morning, we returned frantically back to the hospital because Lucy hadn't gone to the bathroom in over 12 hours. Lucy had been in my life only a few days and I was a complete wreck with worry for her. Shortly after our arrival, they took all of Lucy's vitals and weighed her. She had lost over a pound. We were admitted and they kept us at the hospital for three days. In those days, Lucy was administered two rounds of IV fluids and I became acquainted with a breast pump. I was also given some confidence with some extra help from nurses and slowly began feeling comfortable about the tremendous responsibilities as a mom. But seriously. Talk about a traumatizing beginning.

Our first month was insane and consisted of more than a handful of doctor visits, another overnight hospital stay, a bout of mastitis, and of course sleep deprivation. Even through all of that, I wouldn't have traded it for my old life, or a life without Lucy.

Now, my life revolves around her.

I take better care of myself because she needs me here and I want her to grow up healthy. I am so thankful for the strength she gave me to take the initiative to live better in general. I've learned how to cook. I used to only know how to operate the microwave. I've jogged over 14 miles when I used to barely finish one. I look out for myself and I look out for her.

And I'm finally learning how to care more for my own little family. Unfortunately sometimes that means making great sacrifices for the happiness of everyone else around me. Being a people pleaser, it has not been an easy thing but no matter how wrong or selfish it feels, it's Lucy that really matters the most.

My game has been completely changed. It has not been easy, but it has been wonderful. It is for the absolute best.

Scratching the Surface of Me.

How the Hell do you start wring one of these? I've been sitting here for ten minutes typing and erasing the first sentence of my first ever blog and it's incredibly hard thing when you think about it!
...
or at least when I think about it. Sometimes I am most excellent at over thinking things, but in this case, it's just a sentence Alicia, who cares!? We'll just file this one under the "bad at self expression" tab of the folder that would describe my personality. (As if it was that organized!)

So, after I've beat around the bush about it, my name is Alicia Quigley. I am 23 years young and 23 years old or maybe I'm just 23 years.

I am a lady, but I some times I belch out loud and talk like a truck driver. 

I try to be healthy and active but I also like sitting in my papasan chair and wasting hours doing nothing on Facebook. Plus, I am pretty much obsessed with chocolate and grainy carbs. 

I cook from scratch at least once a day, every day. There was a time that I never ate much of anything that didn't come from a wrapper inside of a brightly colored shape box.

I love steak, and chicken, and sometimes even bacon. The only meat I actually eat is shrimp and fish.

I am also a mom, which has taken my life and given it a whole makeover. There is little if anything that remains the same as shortly over a year ago. A few nights before having my baby, I dreamed that I gave birth to a baby girl and named her Lucy. My whole pregnancy I believed I was bearing a baby boy and I was so surprised when Ryan said "It's a girl!". We tossed names around for two days before giving her a name of her own. Ryan and I couldn't decide, so we flipped a coin. "Lucy" won. The strange part is, I was lent a book of baby names and, according to this book, Lucy actually means "the bringer of light". I couldn't think of anything more true than that.

With the time I have leftover (and by that I mean, when I'm not running around scatterbrained like a chicken with it's head removed while being somewhat productive), I like to be adventurous, or listen to music, and sleep. Yes, definitely sleep. I have a crafty side that peeks out now and again, but right now the extent of my crafty-ness has been going towards art classes. And by art classes I mean "drinking alcohol and painting random things on canvas". I also have a copious amount of random houseplants. I'm somewhat of a pack rat, especially for plants... but they are great to look at. Especially in the dead of winter.

I used to be very passionate about horses. Time and experience has weathered on that passion, but not entirely. When I was in my teenage years, horses were an outlet for my teenage wasteland and I fully believe that passion kept me out of trouble. Since then, my life has taken various turns and I've found other things that have captured my interest that I can enjoy with family and friends in what time I have. And yet, I still have a horse. He's currently enjoying some time off, happily eating hay and bossing around his room mates, getting fatter by the minute. Some day I will be good enough at juggling to include him.

Those are some of my bases. Some of the surface has been scratched. But hey, no one likes a long introduction.