back.

Had you come up to me five years ago and asked me whether or not I thought I would be living in Utah anytime in the future, I probably would have laughed at you in that way I do and then said, "No. Not even."

God is funny like that sometimes.

I was driving to work today, and it was such a simple thing, seeing all of the "North to Salt Lake" freeway signs, but it was such a bizarre moment of realization when reality just slaps you in the face. I wake up to the mountains that I've missed for years every morning.
I drive the roads that got me through tears of triumph and tears of despair.
I see people who's faces have been missing from my vision for years.
I live in the place that was home for so long.

I just can't decide if it is home.

I think it's the closest thing to home that I've found so far. I'm just not sure that it's home all the way.
Then again, this is the woman with a divided heart speaking now--it seems that everywhere I've lived, I've left pieces of my heart and gathered up new facets of what "home" actually means.

For the moment, I'm more peaceful than I've ever been. I have yet to feel the restlessness that used to haunt me wherever we were, and I'm grateful for that.
But there have been snippets of moments where I catch myself remembering where I've been, and dreaming about where we'll go--the countries we'll see and the people we'll meet and the food we'll eat and I know, deep down: there is no such place as home.

Read more...

breakfast.

So, I am going to let you all in on a little secret of mine.
And by secret, I mean the best breakfast ever.
I eat this everyday.
Seriously.
It helps that it's gluten-free and easy to make, but besides all of that, it is delicious. And it tastes like fall Autumn. You can not ask for anything better, trust me.

coffee is also required.

Pumpkin Peanut Butter Oatmeal 

adapted from "Deceptively Delicious"

(1 serving)

1/2 c. milk

1/8 c. pumpkin puree (sweet potato is delicious too)

1/8 t. vanilla (more if you want)

1 1/2 T. brown sugar

1/4 t. pumpkin pie spice (or any mix of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves)

1/2 c. oats

1-2 T. peanut butter

(All measurements are approximate. Play with it and find out what you like)

Put milk and pumpkin into small saucepan and heat over med-low heat. 

Add in vanilla, sugar, and spices, and heat until the milk is shimmering but not quite bubbling. 

Pour in oats and stir continuously until nice and creamy. 

Spoon into bowl and mix in peanut butter.

Eat and let your tastebuds marvel at the flavors in your mouth. 

Read more...

my view this morning.

The sunlight streaming through the blinds this morning was so amazing, and I couldn't help myself.

I grabbed my camera and easily took over a hundred pictures.

I know some of these are a little soft, but I don't care.

To me, they're full of the most beautiful things in my life,

and in these moments,

we were happy.

Read more...

half of a grapefruit and other things

In my attempt to get myself into some sort of shape that doesn't resemble "squishy", I found myself eating 1/2 of a grapefruit this morning while I was waiting for the mini egg casseroles I had made to finish baking. It was kind of a weird moment, because 1/2 a grapefruit has always seemed like the typical "diet" food, the kind of thing you hear twig-like women asking for in the mornings.
I've never been a big grapefruit person, and I just happened to have one in my kitchen since my mother-in-law had gotten it on sale at Tesco. It was kind of ironic that I had just finished reading a blog post by a really skinny person, detailing how they ate 1/2 a grapefruit every morning before the rest of their breakfast in order to help their food digest better, and to also get a fruit serving in.
So, I ate it, and it tasted okay. And then I ate three mini egg casseroles, cause they were only 97 calories each. However, it was after eating three of them that I realized that eggs do nothing for me, and the only way I ever feel "full" is if I throw some carbohydrates and starches in there. Too bad I'd just consumed my morning calorie allowance.

Cue also the fact that I can no longer drink caffeine (at least until I don't have a child attached to my boob), and you have me, sitting on my couch in my sweatpants that probably need to be washed at 11:15 in the morning, not doing anything because we've finally gotten the baby down for a nap, and blogging about food.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my new reality.

I did get a load of laundry going already, and I folded yesterday's, so that counts for something, right? I also have plans to go to the gym later (after bebeh wakes up) and I even have a pumped bottle of milk in the fridge so that Hubs can feed him.

Someday I'll write intelligent, interesting things again.
For now, you get the musings and scattered thought processes of a 22-year old mom who is trying her best to look 22 again, keep her house clean like she's 35, and cook like she's 50.

Awesome.

Read more...

blank.

I am tired.

Jameson was a month old two days ago, and all of a sudden I seem to have put this invisible expectation on myself that everything should be "back to normal".
Maybe I've subconsciously told myself that one month should be long enough to physically and mentally recover from giving birth, and now I should be back to keeping the house clean, food in the fridge, working out at the gym, and making sure that my social graces aren't lagging.

I've got fifty thank you cards/birth announcements to write.

My living room looks like a bomb full of random clutter exploded everywhere.

My fridge and pantry are so empty that cereal has become my "go-to" meal for the past week.

And (embarrassingly enough) I can't really remember the last time I had a proper shower.

I went to bed yesterday promising myself that I'd wake up and feed the baby, then go to the gym and get myself started on getting back into shape.
Then I actually woke up this morning, fed my fussy baby, and laid in bed thinking about how maybe I could just learn to live with myself the way that I am, and going to the gym was second in importance to trying to get just another hour of sleep.

I got Jameson to bed tonight, stared at the stack of blank thank-you cards waiting to be written, and subsequently collapsed on the couch instead (which is where I am currently located now).

I think that I'm so tired that I literally can't think straight anymore...my attention span has currently shortened to the length of time in between Jameson's meals (which is about an hour and a half) and I just feel like I'm walking around in a daze.

Maybe I just need someone to tell me that it's okay for me to still be a ragged mess a month after birth, and that people won't be offended if it takes me awhile to get their thank-you cards out.

Right?

Read more...

marriage.

Tomorrow marks three years since I put on a pretty white dress, picked up a bouquet of red roses, and walked down the aisle to marry the man who had become my best friend.

Three years has seen us go through so, so much--more than I could have ever imagined. 

There have been moments where I wondered if we'd ever make it, 

moments that I wanted to scream, "This is not what I signed up for!", 

and moments where I was convinced that there was no way on earth I could ever feel happier.

I could write a million sappy words, but they would never cover it.

So, here are pictures of our moments instead.

Engaged in Paris

August 6, 2007

 The Beginning

May 31, 2008

 Honeymoon in Cancun

2008

Our first apartment!

June 2008

Late nights spent studying.

2008

Fall 2009

Graduation!

December 2009

Two year anniversary

(Evanston, Illinois)

May 31, 2010

Summer 2010

 Uptown Ribfest

August 2010
 

The Glass House

September 2010

Last nights in Chicago

October 2010

We're having a baby!

October 2010

Moving to England

November 1, 2010

Today.

May 30, 2011
-------------------------------

Husband,
You are the best thing that's ever happened to me.
You push me to be better, and even though sometimes I feel like I might hate you for it, I'm glad you don't let me settle. The longer we're together, the better we fit each other, and there is no one else in the world I could imagine even attempting to live this life with.
I can't wait for this jump into being parents, and even though it scares me sometimes, I know that we're going to do it (and do it well) because we've already decided to be together forever.

Quite simply, I love you.
Your wife.

Read more...

nesting

First of all, let me apologize for the haphazard appearance of my blog right now.

I started the redesigning process, got frustrated with the template I was working in and haven't had the energy to wade through all of the HTML and other things since. However, it's driving me crazy to look at, so it will get done soon.

Secondly, I now fully understand what pregnant women mean when they talk about nesting.

Our American friends over here, Erica and Zac, just had their baby boy, Clive Weatherly, yesterday. He is a beautiful 8 lbs., 7 oz. and 21 inches long. Hubs and I were lucky enough to be able to visit them in the hospital and it was such a surreal experience. Ever since I got over here, Erica and I have been pregnant together, moaning about all of the aches and pains we were going through and speculating about what labor was really going to be like.

But now that she's had Clive (and she actually does know what labor is like), I'm the lone pregnant ranger. It seems that the reality that there is actually a real baby in my belly who will be making an appearance sometime in the next seven weeks has truly sunk in, and I am like a crazy woman on a mission.

I had a mini-panic attack last night, thinking about all of the things we have left to do before Jameson gets here, and the first thing I thought about this morning was "Lists. I've got to make lists."
So, suffice it to say that I have a "Nesting List" broken down into three categories with the things to-do underneath each heading.

(When I get stressed, my OCD tendencies start to really show themselves. Ha.)

I have this sudden burst of energy now, and my husband has actually said that he is afraid of me.

Let the fun begin.

Read more...

contentment.

My days are spent remembering this:

While living in this:

Maybe the weather's starting to get to me, and I'm starting to get my S.A.D on, maybe it's a combination of pregnancy hormones and homesickness, but whatever it is, I am lacking contentment in a big way.
My self-centered, selfish human nature is whispering in my ear that I deserve more than this.

A trip to a sunny island shouldn't be so out of the question.

Getting a manicure, or a hair cut, or a massage shouldn't be such a big issue.

Going out for a nice dinner shouldn't be "not an option".

And even though I know it's not true, I've got the devil on my shoulder doing his best to make sure that I feel like I'm lacking just enough to make me want to turn and run.
If you know me, you know that I struggle with making comparisons, and looking at what other people have and finding what I don't.
It's a thorn in the flesh, and a big issue, and something I struggle through daily.
And I'm going to be honest and say that I'm struggling a lot right now.

I hate the weather.

I hate not having a car and being confined to places within walking distance.

I hate going to the grocery store and seeing nothing familiar and trying to figure out why it's called bicarbonate soda and not baking soda.

I miss being surrounded by people that know me, and know who I am, and are comfortable with that so that I don't have to modify my behavior to be accepted.

I'm tired of introducing myself and feeling like an outsider as soon as I open my mouth.

There is this, and there is so much more, but I won't go on, to spare myself some dignity.
I don't have a "happy ending" note for this, other than I am at the end of my rope, and trusting that God will take it from there.

Prayers, encouragement, and hamburgers are appreciated.

-C

Read more...