Category: Motherhood

What does it mean?

I went for a run tonight.

I am not sure what spurred me on. We were all at the garden plot picking weeds. As we were leaving, I asked if the boys wanted to jog home. C agreed. Off we went. Me and my 5.5 year old, trotting the half mile back to our house. He was a great companion. He told me that he likes looking at birds when they fly in formation because he takes pictures of them in his mind and that the pictures remind him of Santa Claus’ suit (too funny!). When we got back to our house, I was not winded at all. Not bad considering it has been a good three weeks since I have done anything physical.

I decided to go back out. No agenda. No time or mileage requirement. I don’t know what inspired me. The song of the crickets. The AMAZING sunset (pink and purple wispy perfection). The fact that I was not winded? Who knows? I still don’t and I probably won’t.If I try to focus on what the motivating “it” was, I may never find it. And I will spin my wheels trying to recreate something that didn’t exist.

I just know that I wanted to go running, so I did.

I am so glad. It was actually fun again. I have no idea how far I went, or how fast, and I don’t care. I found myself smiling while running.

Part of learning to be kind to myself is accepting that moments like this don’t have to mean everything. I am back on the running bandwagon! I am going to buy new shoes and a pedometer and a heart rate monitor..and and and and….Runaway thoughts like these are what get me in trouble and eventually become overwhelming. It becomes too much (for me) and a burden that I can’t live up to, rather than a healthy choice I make for myself because I want to.

I also know that moments like this don’t mean nothing. To suddenly be motivated after weeks of nothingness is an accomplishment. A big accomplishment. This is also part of being kind to myself. Seeing something for what it is, acknowledging it, and not giving it more or less value than it deserves.

My legs are really sore. But my heart is happy. I’ll take it!

Happy weekend to all. Thanks for your kind words and cheering along the way.

The post I didn’t mean to write, but needed to

I intended to post a picture of the cucumbers and beans that my son & husband harvested from our garden yesterday. Then, I was going to say something cute like, “lesson learned, never give up!” Then, the hypocrisy of that post stopped me and I wrote this one instead. I had nothing to do with the garden. But, I have everything to do with this. So here it is.

“It only takes one person to change your life: You.”

“Tips for a powerful brand”

“Realize your full talent potential!”

“I just posted a ______ mile run with Map My Run!”

“I worked out this morning!”

“I nailed a run. #beastmode”

“You can be anything you want, you just have to choose.”

“Believe you can do anything at least once a day.”

As someone who wrestles with anxiety and depression, these incessant messages feel like I am being pelted with… criticism. It feels like noise. Blah, blah, blah. Talking heads with really long skinny fingers pointing at me. “You are not enough. You should be doing more.” Noise, noise, noise. The messages make me jealous, more anxious, and paralyzed by the fear of doing something wrong, trapped by perfectionism.

I haven’t blogged in too long and I have yet to make significant progress on my journal article.

I feel ashamed that I have fallen off the exercise wagon and yet to get back on. I can’t remember the last time I went for a run. I did a few 5Ks in early spring. I even ran in the mornings for about two weeks. I went running on vacation?! Then, I got sick and I stopped. Although my cold is gone, I have not fully recovered.

I know that people who tweet and post encouraging messages don’t know that I feel this way. I also know that the intent of these messages is not to make anyone feel bad or to shame anyone into exercising, or writing, or updating their LinkedIn profile. If anything, these posts serve to encourage others. And they do. I have witnessed many friends get on the exercise bandwagon, update resumes, add skills to their profiles, etc., etc., etc. And sometimes, they encourage me, too. And other times, these overtly positive messages feel threatening.

The thing with depression too is that it makes me lose sight of what I have accomplished. This weekend, I did six loads of laundry; went shopping for home décor; then came home and fixed an old nightstand with a new knob and picture frames; put my son’s artwork into a new frame and hung it in the living room; and painted an entryway in our house with a spiritual saying, with a stone cross in the middle of it (take THAT Pinterest! I came up with that idea all on my own!). Not bad! And, I did it all by myself. Doing this alone is also a huge feat for me, as my anxiety can sometimes make being alone feel like loneliness.

But, I didn’t go running. I didn’t exercise once all weekend. I didn’t call my grandmother. I texted my sister on her birthday instead of calling her. I didn’t, I didn’t. I didn’t…..Noise. Noise. Noise.

It’s not that I don’t want to work out, or write thank you notes, or clean my house. It’s not that I can’t.

It’s that the cycle of inertia, shame, and more inertia fueled by that shame, is really, really hard to break. Hitting the reset button is necessary. I know that I need to. I know that I want to. It’s just that taking the first step to actually doing it feels momentous.

This is part of me that I never knew before; I have only recently learned that how I feel had a name. Truth is, I have always wrestled with these issues. Looking back on my late 20s and early 30s, I can now see patterns of behavior. Periods of incredible activity and productivity, followed or proceeded by valleys of exhaustion and inactivity. When in the valley of depression it feels as if everything is fuzzy, like someone is shouting at me but I am under water. I can see and hear them and I want to claw my way out and break the surface but, I end up treading water instead.

I even have dreams about my depression. In my dreams, I have been wronged, shamed, or thrown under the bus by someone, almost always in a public setting. I try to speak up for myself and I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I am shouting inside my head but, only I can hear it. The people around me are staring at me. This leads to more and more frustration and more shouting, but no results.

I also dream that I am running but nothing ever happens. My legs get shorter and my abdomen collapses like an accordion and I get physically smaller. Then, my legs start to sink into the pavement and I am no longer running, just staying in one place. Interesting that my dreams are about running. Huh.

I read once that the author J.K. Rowling struggles with depression and that the dementors in Harry Potter are her version of that struggle. This is the best image I can think of to represent depression and it’s after effects. I can feel its presence, its cold breath on my neck. There are times when I can swallow the doubts and fears, choke them back like gravel in my throat. And then, there are other times when I must embrace the darkness. Let its waves crash over me and run their course. Then, I will rise up again. Battered and bruised, but still here.

I am absolutely terrified to post this. I fear what you will think. But, I am choosing #optimism and doing it anyway.

I am learning that none of this makes me weak. This does not make me less-than. Some days are easier than others.By being vulnerable about my imperfections, my crosses, I can name them, address them, and even embrace them without shame because they make me who I am.

Own it

I recently attended the NASPA region 4E Women In Student Affairs (WISA) bi-annual drive-in conference. Before the conference, at the conference, and post-conference many of the participants were tweeting and talking about Daring Greatly by Brene Brown and Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg.

In my post-conference euphoria- you know that feeling. You go back to your job inspired and revved up to change the world- I purchased both of these books and started reading away. I drank the Kool-aid and I am so grateful I did. I read Daring Greatly while on vacation. I could not put it down. I finished Lean In about two weeks ago. I strongly suggest that anyone, woman or man, who is looking to know herself better and become an even stronger leader read both of these books. You will not regret it.

Dr. Peggy Burke of DePaul University gave an amazing and inspiring keynote presentation centered around both of these books and the idea of “owning it.” In short, women leaders often sabotage themselves by not owning their own accomplishments. We are socialized to be polite, team players who demure in the spotlight. We give credit to others for our accomplishments because taking credit is boastful or worse, bitchy.

Hearing this was like being hit upside the head with a mallet. This was more than an a-ha moment. This was an “oh my gosh, I have been doing myself a huge disservice and it explains a lot, and I need to stop doing that” moment.

Related to my own completion of my doctorate degree, I have done this for the last three years. Heck, I did it that morning at the conference! I was sitting at a table of colleagues and got chatting with the woman next to me. We shared that we are both moms, mid-career, etc. etc. She told me that is she beginning her doctoral work this fall and then she asked me, “how did you do it?” And the first words out of my mouth were, “I had help. I had an amazing partner who took on a lot…..My kids were great sleepers….I had a graduate assistantship that covered some tuition…..” All of which are completely true. And, part of the answer.

The problem is, I have let all those explanations become the answer rather than just part of it. There are many reasons for this, I am sure. I am still figuring those out. But, I am now on a personal and professional mission to claim my accomplishments, to profess them openly without boasting or bragging, and to actively encourage other women to do the same. I have a lot to contribute to whatever environment I choose to be in. And, so do you. So own it!

So, Monica. Question: “how did you finish your doctorate degree in five years, while maintaining part-time employment, have two children, shepherd one of those children through a life-threatening illness, and stay married?”

Answers:

I worked my tail off.

I had a singular, laser-like focus for five years.

I established a reading, writing, and dissertating schedule that I protected as sacred.

I am a strong writer.

I love to read and be in a classroom of fellow learners.

I was never going to allow my life circumstances to become an excuse for not finishing.

I owed it to myself to finish what I started.

I am not a quitter.

Those PhD robes are classy and I wanted them.

Once earned, an education can never be taken away from you. I earned mine. I had help. Lots of it. But I went to class, I did the work, it’s my name on that diploma. So, I am owning it.

What areas of your life do you need to own? Are there other leaders in your circle who should be encouraged to do the same? I would love to share “owning it” stories with you. Let’s connect!

Presence

We are our own worst critics. As someone who was born and raised in the fast-paced, competitive environment of the east coast, I am no exception. I am always harder on myself than anyone else.

Recently, my husband and I had the great fortune of going on an early anniversary trip. It was just the two of us. No agenda, no plans, no timelines. It was bliss. We tooled all over “Up North,” went out to dinner, went to a winery. I took some photos of our trip and posted some of them on Instagram or Facebook or Twitter. Probably all three. But, I didn’t post every one and the ones I did post weren’t in chronological order. In one of them, my hair was a mess (so, I thought) and my eyes were all squinty. Darn that sun!

Both of our boys are participating in organized sports this spring. I have taken some photos and posted a few. I should’ve posted more of them. What if someone notices that there are three photos of L but only two of C? I should get more up there. I should take a picture of C with his coach and his team at their final game tonight. I should print them out and mail them to my grandmother.

We have three beautiful lilac bushes in our front yard. They sit right under the windows in our living room. They are so huge that you can see and smell them from across the street. This is my favorite season. Our lilacs are late bloomers and they are white, not purple.

Last week, L and I were playing outside. We were tracing each other with sidewalk chalk. He gave me huge high heels in pink, my favorite color. When I traced him, I was instructed to include his hat. “Make sure you get my hat Momma. Because I am a baseball player.” While we were outside, I kept getting luscious wafts of lilac. The breeze would kick up and I could taste them on my tongue. I should’ve gotten my phone, taken a photo, and then posted it on Instagram. It would have been very artsy.

Instead, I ignored the “shoulds” and kept coloring with my son. When were done, we walked over to the lilacs together and inhaled.

I am working on presence. Physical, mental, emotional presence not social media presence. Just because I didn’t post photos for everyone else to comment on and “like” doesn’t mean they didn’t happen. There are moments that should belong to just me and my family. That’s a should I am okay with. Those lilacs sure do smell wonderful.

The “Have it All” Trap

Lately, there has been talk and backtalk about Anne-Marie Slaughter’s piece, “Why Women Still Can’t Have it All” which was printed in the July/August issue of The Atlantic. First, I will say this. I think Slaughter is spot-on. Spot on. I believe that she was courageous to say what she did and her “calling out” of the current work-life system was timely, appropriate, and necessary. Two of her statements especially resonated with me:

“I still strongly believe that women can ‘have it all’ (and that men can too). I believe that we can ‘have it all at the same time.’ But, not today, not with the way America’s economy and society are currently structured. My experiences over the past three years have forced me to confront a number of uncomfortable facts that need to be widely acknowledged- and quickly changed.”

and this:

“in short, the minute I found myself in a job that is typical for the vast majority of working women (and men), working long hours on someone else’s schedule, I could no longer be both the parent and the professional I wanted to be”

BOOM!

She spoke my very soul. That is exactly how I felt when I was a Director (most of 2011) and is exactly why I left my Director role.

YES! BRAVO! THANK YOU! Thank you for putting this out there! I think her piece was gutsy and brave. And, I appreciated hearing from another working woman who re-evaluated her life and her priorities and made a choice- a personal and professional sacrifice that works- or at least works better for now- for her and her family.

What is sad, to me, is that she felt she had to do this. For various reasons, which she outlines in her piece, Slaughter felt that she (emphasis mine) could not, in her high-level government position, be the kind of professional and mother that she wanted and need to be, and that her children wanted and needed her to be. I thought that was the intent of her piece. Obviously, I am not her. I have no idea what her intentions were. But, I read it as a commentary on her own work-life experiences and her wrestling with the negotiation (my word, not hers) of motherhood and professional life. I was excited and energized. I thought, “Wow! Yes! Maybe now we will have a real conversation about current practices, policies, and practices that have become policies, related to work-life negotiation.” Let’s talk about the “uncomfortable facts” (Slaughter’s words) that need to be changed. Let’s talk about why she felt she had to do this.

Unfortunately, my enthusiasm has already waned. The responses I am reading are ripping on Slaughter as elitist, privileged, over-achieving, not doing enough. All of which Slaughter also addresses in her piece.

One of the first responses I saw on-line was this article. In four or five paragraphs the author manages to:

1. complain about the graphic that was used- a naked toddler sitting in a briefcase. Okay. A little trite. Overused. Sure. But, really? I can’t imagine that Slaughter herself picked that graphic. And, it worked. Because you wrote about it and now thousands of other bloggers are writing about it, too.

2. bemoan the phrase “have it all.” Also trite? Also overused? Yes. Isn’t that part of Slaughter’s point? She admits that she fell into the “have it all trap” AND that she unwittingly made the generations behind her feel guilty for not achieving it all.

Finally, the author then says that the core problem with Slaughter’s article is that she frames work-life as only a woman’s issue. Okay, I am with you on this one. Currently, the work-life conversation is framed as a working-women-with-children issue. That is indeed part of the problem. (Although there are exceptions- see Brad Harrington and the new Dad study done by the Boston College Center for Work and Family).

Women are living it. Women are doing a lot of the writing and commentating about it. I think this was also Slaughter’s point.

And, sadly, women are also the ones doing most of the tearing down of other women and their choices. Which is my point here.

All of this makes me feel…overwhelmed. Annoyed. Frustrated. One woman cannot possibly be the voice for every other woman’s experience. Would we want her to be, even if she could? Slaughter wrote about her experience. I write about my experience. You write about yours. That is what makes the world go round. And, that is also what starts the dialogue and will push agendas forward.

Work-life is an issue for anyone who has a job and a life, which is pretty much, well, everyone. There absolutely needs to be more dialogue. Let’s focus on that & continue to advance the conversation.

Happiness is

June 19
How do you define happiness?
Dana

Happiness
To love and to be loved

 

 

 

 

Playing hooky with my friends

3 #ReverbBroad posts for the price of one!

June 11
If you were to play hooky from work today, what would you do instead?
Krissy

I would actually need at least four days to play hooky. One day to drive to New Jersey to pick up my sisters (my first best friends). Two days to spend at the beach, while “down the shore.” One day to drive back to reality.

While at the beach, I would sleep, read, and eat myself into oblivion. After a day of “sunbathing” (with full-on sunscreen and a huge hat, because now I know better!), we would eat seafood and drink ice-cold beer. Then, we would stroll up and down the boardwalk. I would not care that the sea air was making my hair too curly. I would eat a Kohr Brother’s orange & vanilla soft-serve custard, on a cake cone with rainbow sprinkles. I would fall asleep with a smile on my face, while the ocean lulled me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

June 15
Who was your first best friend?
Kristen

I always struggle with questions that force me to quantify or label things. First, best, favorite…I am not a fan of absolutes. But, this absolute question was actually easy. I am fortunate to have two amazing younger sisters whom I also count on as my best friends. It was not always this way, I am sure. Of course we fought, and teased, and were mean. That is what sisters do. But, under all of that sibling stuff, there has always been genuine love and affection for each other. We have always cheered for one another. We have supported each other through break-ups (“Of course he is a jerk! Let’s burn all the stuff he ever gave you!” True story.) We stood up for each other at weddings (nice bridesmaids’ dresses) and have consoled and counseled each other through motherhood, breastfeeding, work-life negotiation, and suburbia. My mother was right, “there is nothing like a sister.”

June 17
What three things do you want more of in your life? What three things do you want less of?
Krissy

More

1. Friends. I had no idea that this time in my life would be so isolating. I have friends. My sisters. A few from high school. A few from college. One from graduate school. One from my year as a Holy Cross Associate (Americorps Volunteer). One from my first job. But, all of these people are far away. Across the country far away. I am slowly meeting people at work and at my sons’ school. But, I would not necessarily call these current people friends. I have a lot of acquaintances. I have a lot of women in loose circles whom I respect and admire. I have a lot of people that I would really like to get to know better. I have a mentor (thank GOD for her!). But right now, I would really love a soul-sister. A fellow girlfriend I can go walking with, get my nails done with, have drinks with, call up and vent about my day with. This type of friendship is hard to come by and takes time to nurture and develop.

2. Exercise. The mental and physical benefits of this are self-explanatory.

3. Organization/Motivation. Confession: I am not exactly sure what I am doing with my time these days. I feel busy all the time. Distracted. Yet, very little seems to be getting done. There is always laundry to fold, dishes to wash, toilets to scrub, a garden (first one ever) to weed and water, maternity clothes to donate, on and on and on. I don’t want to fall into whining (too late?) so I will stop here. I would love to be organized and motivated.

Less

Gold Ribbon
Kids get cancer, too!

1. Childhood cancer.

2. Childhood cancer.

3. Childhood cancer.

Finding a partner you can move on “with,” not from

June 12
What was the best decision you ever made?
Niki

The best decision I ever made was to have a “relationship defining talk” with a co-worker whom I thought I was starting to have feelings for.

I had no idea that when I took my first “real” student affairs job in 1999 that it would lead me to my best friend. I had never even heard of Hope College or Holland, MI. Heck, back then, I am not really sure I could have correctly placed Michigan on a map. But, I got heavily recruited at a professional conference, interviewed, got the job, etc. etc. Second year into the position, one of my co-workers and my only friend in the entire state of Michigan leaves me! Her leaving set the process in motion to hire another hall director. We interview a bunch of candidates and Sean is one of them. The only thing I remember about his interview was that he had a lot of experience and nice eyes.

We spent almost every day together the first weeks of the semester. RA training, meetings, fire drills, crappy cafeteria food (breakfast, lunch, and dinner), meetings, meetings. You really get to know someone pretty well when you are in all those meetings! Sean is also Catholic, so we went to church together and bonded over being the only Catholic people in tall, white, blonde, Reformed, Dutch, West Michigan.

One weekend I went away to see my sister play soccer. The whole drive back to Holland, I thought about how I needed and wanted to talk to Sean to tell him about it and to tell him I was back safe. Call him up. He was waiting for me to call, too. Huh. We work together. We work together all the time at a really small conservative institution. Huh.

One week later we are driving to a mall (I don’t even remember what for) and I tell him that I think we are flirting with each other. That I think I like him. That I think he likes me, too. But also that I don’t want to read into anything. He turns to me and says, “I like you. Read into that.” Best relationship defining talk ever.

10.5 years later we are still together and have faced some challenging times (see next answer below). There is no one else I want to walk with along the way.

June 10
What was your hardest parenting or partner moment?
Dana

When I first read this, I honestly thought that my answer would be our son’s cancer diagnosis. Devastating. Crushing. Life-altering. However, that has not been the hardest part. For me, the hardest part has been the “moving on” into the world of cancer survivorship and the “off-treatment” life.

Our son is a cancer survivor.

Or, our son is a CANCER survivor.

Or, our son is a cancer SURVIVOR.

The moving-on has been harder than I thought. For me, the off-treatment life has been a constant negotiation of vigilance and paranoia; and whichever one I choose depends on the day. A cough is not a cough. When my son gets a fever or a stomachache, I panic and I must choke the waves back down or I will drown. Sometimes I feel like there is too much cancer in my life. Sometimes I have bouts of “survivor guilt” because our son made it and so many others do not. Other days, I am madder than hell and I don’t feel guilty at all because every child diagnosed should have the chance to survive.

My husband is kind, patient, hard-working, funny, passionate, devoted, loyal, and an optimist. I am some of those things and a slightly pessimistic realist. His focus is truly on the moving on. He believes and acts as if you can move on without forgetting. I know he is right. I know that I can have our experience with the C word shape and mold me, but not define me. I just don’t know how or where to go. Yet.

Self-preservation!

#ReverbBroads2012 prompt from June 7
List 8 reasons it’s okay to lie.
Katrina

1. If it preserves my personal parenting sanity. Example: Oldest is playing with whistle that sounds like a high-pitched train horn AND it lights up. I say, “that is an outside toy.” What I really mean is, “for the love of all that is good and holy get that thing away from me or I am going to lose it!” BTW, still trying to find the person who decided that said whistle was a good idea.

2. If it buys me decision-making time. Example: Boys are fighting. I only heard half the story. Child one approaches me and whines (we all know how I feel about whining!). I re-direct him to sibling. “Talk to him about it!” Truth: I have no idea what happened, or what to do about it.

3. If it keeps my children from worrying. Example: one Christmas, our little family of 4 was almost stranded in a flash blizzard on the Ohio turnpike. We were driving along just fine. The snow falling was actually quite pretty. We had to slow down, but nothing too drastic. Then, bam! Wind whipping, snow swirling everywhere, no cell phone signal, can’t see the car in front of you, white-knuckle driving. We pulled off at the next exit, which thankfully had some motels, one of which had a room and all you can eat breakfast! Boys half sleeping/half awake, in jammies and winter coats in the backseat asking, “Why are we pulling over, Daddy?” Answer: “We’re really tired and it is dark, so we are going to sleep here tonight.” Truth? “I am absolutely terrified that we are going to end up in a snow bank, so we’re getting out of here!” See? Why make them worry?

4. If it keeps my children safe from strangers, danger, or fear. Nuff said.

5. If it prolongs my children’s innocence. Our oldest is 6.5 years old. He turned 6.5  yesterday. When you are that little, that extra half is a big deal! Pretty soon he will no longer believe in Santa, the tooth fairy, etc. etc. The day of discovery is coming like a freight train and it makes me sad. As soon as he figures it out, little brother (now 4) will inevitably learn the truth,too. That’s what older brothers do, right? I remember my older brother showing me the stash in my mother’s shower. Why rob them of the innocence? Why steal the mystery, the anticipation? They will figure it out soon enough.

6. If my answer (the lie) saves me from entering into the Mommy Wars, again. In my experience, when other mothers ask questions about breastfeeding, naps, sleep training, solid foods, school, summer vacations, sports, blah blah…..they don’t really want my real opinion. I know I don’t when I ask. They want my support. So I give it. “Yes! Totally normal!” “Oooh, great idea!” They want to be reassured that they are not totally crazy (not totally, just partially like the rest of us) and that they are doing right by their children (They are. We all are.) Lying? Yep. Deceitful with intention to harm? Never.

7. If my answer helps me save face with colleagues and supervisors. Example: “Yes, I read that message. My response is in my email draft folder!” Truth: make short-hand note to self on meeting agenda, scurry back to office, find said note, decipher it’s meaning, read aforementioned email message, reply all with smiley face at end. Wipe sweat from brow. This answer is very un-professional and very un-student affairs-like. But I don’t care (lie).

8. I can’t possibly think of another reason. Actually, this is true. I am drawing a complete blank. I am sure that I will come up with more after I publish this post and read all of the other witty, insightful, and honest Broads’ stuff!

Summer “recipes”

#ReverbBroads prompt from June 6
Share a recipe or meal that is a summertime favorite. (Bonus: Pick someone else’s recipe or meal and make it, then blog about your results later on this month).
Amy

I don’t cook. I can. I know how. I kept myself alive for quite some time! Go me! I just don’t enjoy it. I am the baker in our house. Need a special occasion plate of brownies, chocolate chip cookie bars, or pineapple stuffing? I’m your girl. In our house, my husband is the chef. He plans all meals, does all the grocery shopping, and then executes. I clean up after. And, we both think that we got the best part of the deal!

I am sharing three of our family’s favorite snacks. Caveat: We have virtually no white flour, sugar, or processed foods in our house. We eat very simple things (organic and local wherever possible and affordable) and have one sugary treat a week. Happy “cooking!”

Real popcorn– Buy jar of whole kernels and some popcorn cooking oil. We use generic equivalent of Redenbacher’s. Heat 1/4 cup oil in saucepan & place one kernel inside. Cover partially. When kernel pops, put more kernels in pan, covering bottom. Cover pan. Move pan vigorously over heat to avoid burning kernels and to make sure all of them pop.We use a pan that has a clear lid so you can see the popcorn going. When done popping, coat popcorn with coarse sea salt. Sea salt tastes way better than regular table salt. Best enjoyed with beer! Our summer favorite is Oberon by Bells’ Brewery. (Pre-packaged microwave popcorn is full of chemicals.)

Fire-pit roasted apples– We have no grass in our backyard, so it’s the perfect spot for a home-made fire-pit! Need 4 large apples. We use organic Granny Smith or Gala apples. Core the apple. Stuff core with butter, cinnamon, and organic agave nectar (low glycemic index sugar substitute). Wrap tightly with non-stick aluminum foil. Place directly in fire-pit. Cook for approximately 15 minutes, turning often. Note: Granny Smiths take longer & need to be turned frequently. Remove from fire. Let sit for a few minutes. Unwrap apple and then place in bowl. It’s apple pie without the sugar and the crust! For real foodies: Serve with vanilla ice cream!

This is the agave nectar that we use. This bottle lasts our family of 4 about 4 weeks. A little goes a LONG way.

Yogurt Parfaits– Plain, non-fat yogurt, Smucker’s spreadable fruit (way less sugar than regular jelly and tastes better!), fresh fruit slices, and granola. Mix the yogurt with a little agave nectar. You can also add vanilla and/or cinnamon to taste. Layer a glass with yogurt, then about 2 tablespoons of spreadable fruit, sliced fruit (strawberries, bananas, and raspberries work great), and granola. Layer until glass is about 3/4 full. End with granola. Garnish with a strawberry and sprig of mint. (Yogurt, while it has some good calcium, is also full of processed sugar. Read the label. Some yogurt has as many grams of sugar as a candy bar! Yikes!)

Happy snacking!