Bloom.

This post has been on my mind and my heart for about a year. But, it’s time.

I am stepping away from Bloom.

I am approaching a major change in my life: the addition of our second child. And while I am so excited, the weight of everything on my plate and imagining how it’s just going to grow brought me nearly to the point of break down.

You can find blog posts and articles like this and this sharing all that a woman carries. I know men carry their own set of stressors and weight; but, these articles always hit me with “it’s so true.”

Working, mom-ing, wife-ing, managing a home, running a now thriving business on the side, (sad) attempts at personal development and even self care started to feel more like a chore. Add the chemical component of nearing the end of pregnancy to the mix and it was all enough to push me over the ledge.

Nothing I did -or tried to do- was 100% and that added guilt and disappointment.  My brain could not take on any more and I crumbled from the weight of it all.  (… And, may or may not have taken a bit of it out on my husband.  Yay. Go me.)

The first garden in 2013.

After some tears, I picked myself up and decided to take action. What can I control? What can I do to lighten my load? What can I do to get my life back to the life I want to be living?

So, for the time being, a few things are being cut out.

Things like lightening up on the state of my kitchen floors everyday.  By the way, those cups that say they are spill proof…?  The manufacturers are lying.

Allowing Theo to eat the school meals (… that I am paying for anyway) versus packing him something homemade.  Not only is this a use of my time; but, I was also getting a note from his teacher everyday saying he wants what the other kids want… contributing to some guilt, shame and “Am I doing this right?” that I have to carry.  

Understanding that we may not get the garden completely put away for the winter.  Our landscaping is scary.  We will not have any bulbs or mulch.  But, we will survive.

And, taking a hiatus from blogging at Bloom.

It may not be forever, but right now, it’s a good time.

Working on a new look for the site in 2014 when I got rid of the .wordpress.com to really make Bloom mine.

There are things I want to do on leave and some of those things are to just sit in bed with a nursing newborn and binge watch Project Runway. And, that’s more than okay.

I have loved Bloom. It was my introduction to writing for fun. It was for no one but me. And, even with all the essays, assignments, school paper articles, and research papers in my grade school and college days, I believe blogging has shown me the most growth as a writer.

Am I an excellent writer? No. There are typos and strange, long sentences. Am I good blogger?  Heck no.  SEO is weird and confusing.  I don’t do email lists or sharing parties, like I “should.”

But, I do know that the discipline of writing at least once every few weeks has been good for me.

In fact, I believe blogging and writing for fun is good for anyone.  

Lots of canning over the last four years.

Documenting a renovation.  Writing about your kids for relatives far away.  Sharing short stories.  Whatever.  It’s fun.  It’s free.  It makes you be a little creative.  It makes you a stronger writer.  It connects you to people new and longtime friends.

But, it also makes you clue into things more.  Art, podcasts, museums, current events.  You think more and those thoughts are deeper.  

You have more intention to your life and you really think about who you are.  What you want to share.  What you want to do.  This understanding of yourself brings confidence and authenticity in all that you do.

And, with your stories, you might even inspire someone.  Which is such a gift… for both of you.

That is what has happened with Bloom.  I have truly “Bloomed Where I was Planted” here on the internet and in life.  Without it, I may still be in a day job that doesn’t bring me joy.  Or, have any creative pursuit outside of that job.  And, Adam and I likely would have never started our sustainable farming business, Bent Arrow Acres.  Something we cannot imagine our life without.

So, thank you for reading, commenting, encouraging me and letting me share my stories.  

Also, know that I am not totally stepping away from writing.  

I now write quite a bit offline.  This journaling could be just fun, but it could evolve into eBooks, kids books or memoirs.  

And, I will continue to maintain the blog on the farm’s website, bentarrowacres.com.  So, there still will be a place on the internet to stay in the loop with what we are up to!  We hope also get better with YouTube, email lists, and SEO so there are some “blogger” goals still in mind.  

Who knows what the future holds, but Bloom will always be where it started.  And, I am so thankful for this space.

Photos done with Hive and Honey to freshen the look in late 2014.

Here are a few of my old favorites:

 Natural, Roasted Chicken.  It’s What’s for Dinner.: A friend told me she could hear me telling this story as she read it.  What a compliment.  It totally energize me.  And, looking back at this moment in my kitchen makes me smile.  We have come a LONG way from my first whole  roasted chicken.

End of the Season and So Much More:  Rereading this post, all about our first garden season, after this years garden season which seemed hard… almost more like a chore, makes my heart happy.

Tough Old Birds: Haha.  What a week this was.  The image of me as a “fat, camo eskimo” isn’t bad either.

Becoming a Farm Girl Three Part Series: This was a fun project.

Lessons from Mom’s Kitchen:  For the record, my mom’s alias on Bloom when she comments is “mom xoxo.”

“Basic” Apple Crostata and The Reality of Country Living: Sarcastic blogging is kind of my favorite.  

Not Sweet, But Still a Treat: Make this today.  Seriously.  You will thank me later.

To Everything There is a Season: Still true today.  And, not just for gardening.

Garlic Dreams to Reality: How Bent Arrow Acres was born!

To Sweet Sixteen and The Next Fifteen: I always loved doing a New Year post.  

What to Expect… And, What I Didn’t: Welcoming Theo.

Black Raspberry Comfort: Unless this is you first Bloom post (… Sorry, not the best place to start!), you know about my love of ice cream.  This one is the best.

Frozen Pizza Goes Fresh:  This is my favorite way to do pizza.  And, it’s so easy!

It Is For Everyone:  Trying to understand my own way though feminism and food.

Broken and Whole: Clearly motherhood and story telling are where my writing for *me* seems to be going.  And, I like it.  Growth is good.

The garden in 2017 with Theo.

Today I turn 30.

30 has freaked some of my peers out.  It might have freaked you out.  Even Adam came home on Friday asking if I was “okay” with turning 30.  

Evidently, he shared that it was my 30th Birthday with his team at work on Friday over lunch.  One of the guys shared that 30 was hard on his wife.  She had a whole bunch of “things” she wanted by 30.

A wedding.

Kids.

A certain level job.

Dollars in the bank.

Travel.

Accolades. 

A home.

So on.

So, Adam asked me– with 36 hours left in my 20s- if there was anything I wanted by 30.

I joked, “Well… it’s a little late for the couple million I was hoping for.”

We laughed, considered playing the lottery before Sunday and then I truthfully said, “Not really.”

Sure, I have had a lot of “traditional” milestones in my 20s.  The wedding, a home, a baby.  And, yeah sure, it would be cool to be running my own business that has a huge impact and is making tons of money or to be published or to be recognized as some kind of influential young leader.  But, really, if my 20s taught me anything it’s that timelines are kind of bogus.  They add pressure.  And, sure, life is short; but, it’s not over at 30.  

In fact, I think 30 is a really cool place to be.  I have learned so much, but know that I still have a lot to learn.  There is still a lot that I am excited experience too. And, knowing that I can take some of that wisdom I acquired in my 20s and make my 30s that much more amazing?  That’s icing on my Birthday cake.

Inspired and a smidgen nostalgic, here are 30 things I learned in my 20s.  This list goes in order of lessons I learned throughout my 20s so it’s a bit of a snapshot of the last decade.  From being a heartbroken, wild-child at 20, to job loss and identify found around 25, to some of the most life defining moments in the last 18 months my 20s were everything.  Everything I needed.  Everything I could have hoped for.  Everything that I could have never imagined.

• Pretending to be what you think someone wants makes you the complete opposite of what they want… and what you really want to be.

My 20th Birthday.

• When given the choice between something safe or something new and different that will take you out of your comfort zone, you should almost always go with the latter.
• Living surrounded by an amazing community is a great experience that will teach so much about people and that living as a community is vital.

Oh, good old 21.

• • However, taking time alone is important especially in your twenties. It makes you think about who you really are.
  • It’s not about exercise, brag worthy work outs, scales, challenges, whatever. It’s about taking care of yourself.
  • Girlfriends are as important as boyfriends.

Feeling 22 with the girls in Indy.

• • However, cutting “friend fat” is fine. If they aren’t giving you anything but headaches, trouble or discouraging you it’s okay to walk away.
  • Look at your bosses. Do you like their job? Do you want to be like them? If no, start reevaluating.
  • Take a year or two to live independently. Maybe with a roommate, but not a partner. Learn to pay your own bills, maintain your own space and be on your own for a little.

  • 

    Celebrating 23 in my last apartment.

  • Real Love isn’t big grand gestures.  It’s quiet understanding.  It’s loyalty.  It’s sharing your life.  Allowing for imperfection. Cheering each other on. And, a whole lot of fun.
  • All a wedding needs to be beautiful is a great connection of two families and two people totally happy to be together. Good cake doesn’t hurt either
  • Write your plans in pencil and be open to making changes be it a city, a love, or a job.

Lake trip for 24 with the girls.

• • Always be learning. This doesn’t mean in the “school” sense; but, always be reading, trying new things, challenging yourself and looking for ways to grow.
  • The quickest way to put yourself in a good mood is to make a quick mental list of all that you are thankful for.
  • No matter how old you are, it’s always great to make a new friend.

25 at one of my best friend’s weddings.

• • Adversity is actually fuel propelling you to something better, if you let it.
  • You get what you put out…
  • … But, sometimes people will still just be mean.
  • Pay attention, follow what excites you and pursue to what makes you happy that you are alive.

26 at home after a board meeting.

• • No one- not even the universe- is going to give you what you want on a silver platter.  You have to go, do, make and create.  
  • Number 20 includes your own happiness.
  • Find a way to give back.  Having a facet of volunteering, mentoring, or philanthropy makes life that much more full.

Cake after long work days for both of us for 27.

• • Your not really trying if you are not failing.  Don’t fear it.  Just do it and grow.
  • Don’t be preoccupied with “perfect” just try to be the best version of yourself everyday.
  • Pass less judgement.  It’s yucky, mean and unattractive.  Try to live under the assumption that everyone is also just doing the best they can.

Poppin’ bottles for 28.

• • Sharing stories helps us to heal and share who we really are.  Share, talk and listen.
  • We all go through shit.  Be sad.  Do what you need to do. But, recognizing that it is inevitable and this is just “your shit” will help remind you that life is still pretty great.
  • Raising children is the hardest thing you have ever done.  But, it will also be the one thing that gives you the most joy.

A new party guest at 29.

• • Let people think whatever they want to think about you.  It seems crazy, but not your business.  It’s theirs.
  • The best really is yet to come.

Here’s to 30… and beyond.

I can’t believe it.

I went the whole month of July without an ice cream post.

This makes me two things:
1. A bad ice cream maker lover
2. A bad pregnant woman

Homemade ice cream has kind of been my thing since we received an ice cream machine for our wedding six years ago. We didn’t register for it and I almost took it back, but I thought I would at least look at it.

Once I opened the box I saw that not only was there a manual, but a recipe book. I paged through it and found a recipe for peanut butter ice cream that sounded like something Adam would love. He is not much for dessert… unless it’s got peanut butter and chocolate. Then he is all in.

Being the sweet newlywed I was… and because I didn’t have a job that whole summer thanks to budget cuts and moving to the country, I made the peanut butter ice cream.  I was instantly hooked on my ice cream maker.

Adam didn’t seem to mind.

He served as taste tester all summer as I tried new flavors and got more adventurous with ingredients. He even knew better than to say anything the day he came home to find me in our small kitchen with what must have looked like the aftermath of a natural disaster.

I was trying to perfect Salty Caramel ice cream, a favorite of mine from Jeni’s, an ice cream store I grew up with in Columbus.

But, I scorched my first caramel base and the pot sat in the sink soaking in soapy water in hopes of it being easier to clean. Every and any measuring utensil and bowl we owned was on the counter. Sugar and salt dusted the floor. Ingredient containers were everywhere. Caramel colored, not yet churned and frozen, milk dribbled down the cabinets.

I stood in the middle of it all watching the milk mixture spin around and around in the frozen bowl becoming ice cream. I looked up at him and said “You want to try it? It’s salty caramel!”

Being the nice newlywed he was, all he said was “Yes” and grabbed a spoon.

That memory always makes both of us smile… and want some ice cream.

I wanted to use the garden as inspiration for this batch. Melons are still a couple weeks out. Berries are done. So, the obvious choices were out. But, what I did have were a whole lot of cucumbers.

Cucumbers?

Ice cream?

Oh man. She really is pregnant.

But it works!

With lime juice it’s like a creamy cucumber cocktail without the bite of booze. It’s fresh and light. And the carrot juice cookies give the tart a little balance with sweet and some crunch.

A perfect way to celebrate ice cream and the summer garden.

(And, not nearly as messy as my Salty Caramel experiment.)

Cucumber Ice Cream and Carrot Lace Cookie

2017-08-05 20:24:08

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Ice Cream

1. 3/4 Cup Sugar
2. 3/4 pound cucumbers, thinly sliced
3. 3 tablespoons honey
4. 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
5. 2 cups buttermilk

Carrot Cookies

1. 3/4 cup pecans
2. 1/2 cup sugar
3. 1 1/2 tablespoons flour
4. pinch of salt
5. 4 tablespoons butter
6. 3 tablespoons carrot juice

To make the ice cream

1. Bring cucumbers and sugar to a simmer over medium low heat in a medium saucepan. Cook for 5 minutes, until very tender. Transfer to a food processor and puree. Strain through a fine mesh sieve into a bowl.
2. Add the honey, lime juice, and buttermilk to the cucumber puree and stir. Refrigerate until chilled.
3. Transfer to an ice cream maker and process. Serve right away or freeze.

To Make the Cookies

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment.
2. In a food processor, combine pecans, sugar, flour and salt. Pulse until the pecans are fine.
3. In a medium saucepan, cook the butter and carrot juice over medium heat until the butter melts. stir in the nut mixture and cook for two minutes, stirring until lightly thickened and bubbly.
4. Spoon a tablespoon of batter at a time onto the baking sheet, spacing the cookies a few inches apart.
5. Bake for 10 minutes, until set. Let cool and serve with ice cream.

Adapted from The Beekman Boys

Adapted from The Beekman Boys

Bloom. https://www.theblogbloom.com/

The other night at dinner Adam and I were talking about how fast this pregnancy is going. I don’t know if it’s because the majority of it has been in the summer, a season that seems to fly anyways. Or, if it’s because our life is so full with the farm. Maybe it’s because we are chasing a funny toddler. Or, maybe it’s the dreaded second child syndrome… already.

Whatever it is, I decided that I need to take things slower before the third trimester also flies by.

Okay.

I made that sound like a super conscious, transcendental decision.

Buttttt… it actually steams from a very unconscious, absent-minded, embarrassing moment.

Last week, I swung by Starbucks to grab a drink. I cruised up to the drive through… and all the way to the window.

When I got there, I looked at the teenage boy working and realized… Um, hello?! Earth to Claire? You forgot to order.

The brace-face boy smiled and awkwardly waved at me as I realized what I had done and looped back around.

Yes. Driving away did cross my mind… but, the thought of a decaf iced coffee was so ingrained in my head, I stuck around.

(And, yes. Decaf. Thanks pregnancy. I couldn’t even make a joke about “really needing caffeine” without it being totally lost on this baby barista.)

So, latte in hand, I decided I needed to clue in a little more. Take quiet, slow moments to think about this baby.

… A baby girl!

Which truth be told, is a concept that I was still coming around to.

The plan was to be Team Green again, but the ultrasound tech left the gender images, the final shots she took, on the TV screen as Adam and I packed up after our 20 week appointment. I couldn’t help but look. It was right there! You would have looked too.

So, it was unexpected to find out the gender.

And, truth be told, I really thought it was a boy.

It’s weird because while pregnant with Theo, all my visions of motherhood were almost always girly.  I imagined the outfits; the heart to hearts and cuddling in my bed until she is 25; the toys; watching Adam melt every time she needed his help; holding back my own tears as she walks down the stairs to her prom date and did I mention the outfits?

Then Theo arrived and it’s been all boy since Day One.  It’s been being amazed at how strong he is; loving the “vroom” he echos as a loud car goes by; laughing as he legit flirts with any and every lady; trying my best to keep him from mud puddles and lots of open mouth kisses from my little Momma’s Boy.

That’s what motherhood looked like to me, so it’s no wonder that was the feeling I had.  I saw brothers and weekends at the ball park.  Lots of dirty clothes and legos. Boogers and plenty of fart jokes… likely at the dinner table.  Fraternity Mom’s Days and picking out first dance songs for their wedding day.

I wouldn’t go as far to call it “gender disappointment” because it’s not.  It’s not even the panicked, “I don’t know what to do with a girl!” Not at all.  It’s more like “gender realignment” because of the visions and feelings I had.  

Which sounds a lot more complicated than my actual intent.  

Especially because while I absolutely adore being a #boymom, something would be missing from my life without a girl.

Without this girl.

My favorite moments of thought and reflection are best accompanied by a good beverage. And, since cocktails and caffeine are out, I decided to get a little creative to really enjoy my attempts for slower moments.

I am not much for sugary drinks so commercial lemonade always leaves an “ick” taste in my mouth. But, good, fresh homemade lemonade? It’s everything. Super refreshing. Just enough sweetness. And for this one, I upgraded things to make it a little more special… and girly.

I added a floral flavor from my garden’s fresh lavender.

To do this, I pressed the pretty purple flowers into the sugar to give the sweetness some perfume. It was slow, hands on, and by using flowers I couldn’t help but think of all the fun moments having a girl will bring.

The #girllife makes sense to me.  From the gender generalizations to breaking the mold.  I live it and have surrounded myself with amazing woman breaking barriers… and still are fun to get pedicures with.  

Maybe I have had to sit with this one a little because knowing the gender has brought on an little underlying fear of my own.  A fear of  how to help her fight everything the world will throw at her from who she should be, how she should act, and of what having “it all” will mean.  

Instead of dance recitals and little aprons covered in flour as we bake together, I am visualizing more of the hard stuff. 

But, these are things all mothers will deal with regardless of the gender of their children.  

Trust me, I can go there with the “hard stuff” for boys in a millisecond. It’s not any easier.  But, what helps is knowing Theo.

So, maybe… just maybe having these extra 20 weeks of knowing the gender has put me in the position to have to do a lot of thinking about it without the ability to hold her.  To kiss her and tell her it’s okay.  And, to have her surprise me by telling it’s okay too even if it’s just with her smile.  A big hug.  Or a sloppy, open mouth kiss.

So, for now, I will just drink my lemonade and bubble with joy when she kicks letting me know it will all be okay.

Lavender Lemonade

2017-07-28 15:51:57

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Ingredients

1. A handful of fresh lavender flowers, rinsed (A tablespoon of dried lavender works if you do not have fresh)
2. 1 cup granulated sugar
3. 2 cups boiling water
4. 1 1/2 cups freshly squeezed lemonade
5. At least two cups of cold water and plenty of ice

Instructions

1. Cut lavender from plants and place in a medium bowl of granulated sugar. (There is no need to strip the flowers off the stem.)
2. Using clean hands, rub the flowers into the sugar about 5-10 minutes.
3. Pour two cups of boiling water over the sugar and lavender. Stir with a spoon until the sugar dissolves. Cover and let infuse for at least one hour, but no more than 5.
4. Strain the lavender simple syrup and pour into a pitcher.
5. Stir in the lemon juice, ice and add water until desired concentration is reached.

Bloom. https://www.theblogbloom.com/

In September 2015, when I was just about ten weeks pregnant, I wondered through Paper Source. Paper Source is a happy place of sorts for me. It’s like Anthropologie, Crate and Barrel or a really good book store. It’s a place I can get lost in. A play ground for my creative and girly mind.

On that particular day, I was on a mission to find a notebook.

I wanted a place to document my new pregnancy. I wanted to write little notes to this baby. Keep notes on my cravings or names were were considering in case someday I can’t remember those things. I even had hope to keep this notebook up through the baby’s first year. I had visions of notes about the first real belly laugh, the first word, their favorite toys, whatever.

Fanning the blank pages of the many notebooks available trying to find the right one, I stared at the wall of journals. There were larges ones and notebooks that could fit in a back pocket. Cute patterns and colors. Some were even designed by my girls, Lilly and Kate.

I thought I had finally settled on one. It was nice, cute enough and would do the trick. But, then, while I was at the checkout a notebook from a shelf behind the counter caught my eye.

It was colorful, a little boho with it’s doodled florals, and the front read, “Be Filled With Joy” in curly script. Exactly how I had felt since I heard the strong heart beat at the doctor’s office a few weeks earlier. Completely full to the brim with joy.

One problem: I picked up the notebook and noticed it was kind of broken.

The front cover was loose and the spine was cracked. I held it, thinking about the flaws, but despite them it was my favorite of the bunch. I loved it. It was perfect for me and perfect for what I needed it for.

Through my pregnancy it served me well. I wrote in it somewhat often. Enough that a year later, it is a lot of fun to look back on and it brings back moments that I would have otherwise forgotten.

In looking back, I noticed that my complete entries stop on April 19, two days before Theo arrived.

After the 19th there is only one more entry from over three weeks later on May 11. But, this entry is incomplete.

The entry on the eleventh is me trying to tell the story of Theo’s birth and first few weeks down on paper. But, I never finished it. In fact, it stops mid sentence.

In comparison to the love, detail and completeness of the other entries, this is strange. But, knowing what I know now, I know why this happened.

I know why I didn’t finish the story.

Like the notebook, like the entry, like the sentence, I was broken.

I was recovering from being broken in half to bring Theo into this world through an emergency c-section after a long, tumultuous labor experience. I was in the hospital for ten days in my attempts to give birth and due to complications from it all.

Hooked up to IV’s to prevent seizures a few days after Theo was born.

This left me emotionally broken because I felt so betrayed by my body. I had always considered myself a highly capable woman. I was able to do anything I put my mind to. But, I couldn’t give birth to my child.

Being robbed of the birth experience I had dreamed of and the first sweet couple of weeks at home, left me bluesy. And, coming to terms with the fact that had I given birth one hundred years ago, Theo and I would have not made it.  This was- and still is- so hard to comprehend.

But, time really does heal all wounds. Even the ones that leave scars you can’t see. And, I while I know I did heal, I am not the same.

Not even close.

While there were parts that were not great, I also have been broken in all the right ways. And, it’s not just me. All mother’s are. Motherhood is life altering. Our values, beliefs, habits and more change overnight. We are thrust into the hardest job ever requiring selflessness… and very little sleep.

A few months ago I learned about “kintsugi.” It is the Japanese art of repairing broken dishes or other ceramics with gold. I was so intrigued by the look, highlighting the flaws. I loved the philosophy of taking something that might have been considered wrecked, but making it more beautiful than before.

Hearing more about the technique and looking at images of pottery fused back to their original appearance by jagged gold lines, I could see myself.

I had been shattered. Wrecked. Broken. My world completely rocked. But, what was left behind was able to be put back together in a way that made everything even more beautiful.

Motherhood is full of hard, even ugly moments. Moments like those challenging first few weeks for me and Theo. But, ask any mom, and they will tell you it’s the most beautiful thing they have ever done.

I know I was fused back together with gold just like one of those Japanese bowls because being a mom has made my whole life more beautiful and whole.  It brought me more joy than I could have ever imagined.  It made me love from a place that I never knew existed.  It has made me strive to be the best “me” more than I ever have.

But, I also know that when I was put back together, it wasn’t perfect.

A piece of my heart never made it back in.

Instead, it now walks with a little boy and it will forever and ever.

Photo by Jennifer Davis Photography