A Brief Update, Bloom Beautifully, and a discount code FOR YOU!

HELLO my sweet friends! Apologies for the prolonged absence from this space. Hopefully you are following me on Facebook and Twitter, where I have not been absent.

*evil grin*

If not, join the fun!

I’ve been movin’ and shakin’ since returning from the Warrior Mom Conference, and I am SO FREAKING EXCITED about some of the things I have planned for you. I’ve got posts queued up (ones that will get you all in your feels and some that will get you all in your giggles). I’ve got some new series’ that are going to start soon (monthly or bi-monthly posts on the same topic/idea). AND, I’ve got some in-person stuff in the pipeline for you locals who want to come hang out with me in real life! 2017 is shaping up to be a big year here at Motherhood Misfit, and I’m so glad you’re along for the ride!

Now, the elephant in the room – The Election. Let’s just get this out of the way so that we can move on. Those of you who follow me on Facebook and Twitter already know this, but I want to set some expectations for those of you who follow me only here.

I am an unapologetic liberal. I am an unapologetic fighter for justice, equality, and safety for marginalized groups of people. I am a middle-class white woman who recognizes her privilege and platform and will use both vehemently to amplify the voices of people of color and to attempt to right the many, many things currently wrong with this world. I will not shy from my beliefs because they make you uncomfortable. I will not keep my political opinions out of my blog. My space – my voice – my responsibility.

We cool? Good.

I have been HARD at work since November 9th, doing my part to effect change, both socially and within the inter-workings of my party, which failed so hard to inspire and represent the very people they claim as a voter base.

If you are interested in finding ways to get involved or learn more about my opinions, please use the links previously posted to find me on Facebook where I am frequently posting opportunities and am more than happy to chat about the work we have to do.

NOW, on to the fun stuff!

I had the opportunity, after Warrior Mom Con, to try out Bloom Beautifully, a monthly subscription box dedicated entirely to Self Care.

I know. So awesome.

Bloom Beautifully is run by Tara Pringle Jefferson, who is not only a woman entrepreneur herself, but sources many of the products in her boxes from fellow female-owned small businesses. How cool is that?

I tried out the November box and am excited to share with you what was inside! Even better, Tara has very kindly provided a discount code JUST for Motherhood Misfit readers! Keep reading to get the skinny on my November box, and to receive your special discount code.

INSIDE THE NOVEMBER BOX

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Lavender Chai Soap Bar by Zandra Beauty 
Y’all, this soap is gorgeous. Handcrafted by owner, 16-year-old Zandra, this soap is plant-based, cruelty-free, paraben free, all-natural and free of icky ingredients. As if it wasn’t cool enough that Zandra Beauty is owned and operated by a 16-year-old girl, 10% of its profits support girls’ education. Basically, throw all your credit cards at her because she is doing some amazing stuff.

Beautiful & Brave Coffee Mug by Rachel Allene Lettering 
True- I have only owned this mug for about seven days.
Also True- I have used this mug for seven days.
So basically, I’m in love.

Cafe Latte Coffee Candy by Fusion Gourmet
These are dangerous and would make a fantastic stocking stuffer for you to give yourself because you’re not going to want to share them.

Cocoa Butter Massage Bar by The Good Stuff Naturals
You GUYS. This bar smells like heaven. Cedar and Saffron?! It’s like Tara knew me already. I like anything that smells like a tree. No sarcasm. If anyone knows how to make perfume out of tree bark, hit me up. That said, when I saw that this soap had Cedar in its scent profile, I shed a single tear, turned, and went immediately to turn on my shower.

Peppermint Mocha Hand Cream by Strange Charm Design
This smells exactly like a Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks, which happens to be my second holiday drink of choice. My first choice is a Brandy Alexander, but for some reason, it is frowned upon to drink those during the daytime. So, Starbucks it is. YOU GUYS, I just realized that I could put this hand cream on and then drink a Brandy Alexander and it will kind of be like having BOTH of my favorite holiday drinks at the same time. *runs off to find martini shaker*

Mini Bonus: Inspirational Art Print by Bloom Beautifully 
“I am leaving every day to allow the space between where I am and where I want to be to inspire me and not terrify me.” – Tracee Ellis Ross
This little art card was so perfect for where I am right now. I have been swimming in plans and ideas since October and was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed with all the work to be done. Then the election happened. Having this little card on my altar (YES, I’m going to post about it) has been a wonderful way to remind me to get excited about the road ahead, instead of scared of it.

SO, there you have it! I’m obsessed with my Bloom Beautifully box. It would make a wonderful holiday gift (full disclosure: I am REALLY hoping that someone *ahem Hubby/Mom* will sign me up for a subscription this Christmas!) Even better; Tara has very graciously offered readers of Motherhood Misfit a special discount code to receive $5 off your first box. Just use the code MISFIT at checkout!

With that, I am off to begin the marathon cooking for Thanksgiving tomorrow. Sending you all love, gratitude, and peace as we roll into the holiday season.

See you back here soon!

 

 

 

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The New Family – When Your Mom Comes Out

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I had the GREAT pleasure to spend some time chatting with Brandie Weikle over at The New Family, and my episode went live today! Have a listen on your commute home tonight and remember

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

Listen to the podcast directly on the site, or find them on iTunes, SoundCloud, Stitcher, and various other platforms!

Dear Mamas…

Dear Mamas,
You are not alone. Ever.
Love,
Me, and all of Us
PostpartumProgress.org

Dear Donald…

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Dear Donald,
This is my 4 year old son, Silas. I’m raising him to respect women and to treat them the way he wants to be treated (crazy, I know). You guys have so much in common. Sometimes I ask him for a bedtime kiss… oh wait, let me just explain that “ask” thing real quick. You see, as humans we get to enjoy this thing called Bodily Autonomy, which basically means that our bodies belong to us and no one can touch or manipulate them without our consent. It’s the reason rape is a definite no-no, and also why I can’t harvest your organs to save the lives of people who need them, and let’s face it, who are probably a lot nicer than you are. Anyways, sometimes I ask my son for a bedtime kiss and he says “Ewwww! Nasty!” Just thought you’d enjoy hearing from someone else who occasionally thinks women are nasty… my 4 year old.

The Anniversary, An Unexpected Adventure

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Dear Clara,

One year ago today, you were taken from my body.

One year ago today, I said the first of many goodbyes to you. I just can’t seem to stop saying goodbye to you, so often are you on my mind.

The last two weeks have been really hard. Like, trudging through quicksand, next level hard. And it’s no wonder. After all, last Labor Day weekend, we found out that you were a girl. Our first daughter, our sweet Clara. Three days later, we got the call that something appeared to be amiss. One week after that, we found ourselves in the office of a specialist, listening to a diagnosis that felt like it must surely be meant for someone else.

Five days later, you were gone.

It all happened so fast.

A fellow Warrior Mom has been reading a book called The Body Keeps the Score, by Dr.Bessel van der Kolk, which discusses the way that traumatic experiences literally reshape our brain, creating a physical record and replay function of the trauma, over which we have little control. It’s a book I intend to read very soon, but even without having read it, I am able to see just why the last couple of weeks have been so hard.

My body remembers.

My body remembers so well, that I spent the last two weeks fretting myself right into a case of bronchitis which landed me in the ER receiving a breathing treatment and a bag of fluids.

I made it to this day, though, and out of respect for the pain and my own grieving process, I decided to take today off of work. I’d be alone, well except for Milo Dog, and would be able to feel my feelings and let my heart guide me towards what activities would serve me best. Perhaps I would knit and send up a heartbeat for you with every turn of the needles. Perhaps I would take a walk in the woods and listen for you in the leaves, rustling crisply as they give over their supple green to the slowly encroaching Autumn hues and textures. Perhaps I would work on clearing the garden for Fall, pushing my hands into the earth and reminding myself of the oneness of it all, you included.

Parenthood had other ideas.

Silas was up half the night complaining of an earache and a headache. Milo needed to have a behavioral evaluation at a local boarder, so that we can board him for a wedding this weekend, and so my “Self-care Day” slowly turned into something else entirely.

First, I took Silas to the doctor this morning. Thankfully the ear ache is not an infection. Just fluid, likely caused by allergies. So we’re going to stick to the Children’s Claritin and try to make it through the rest of ragweed season without anything turning infected.

Milo’s behavioral visit was fine. We’re going to set him up to spend a full day there sometime this week, just so he can really get acquainted with the place before we leave him for an overnight.

By the time Silas and I left the dog boarder, it was lunch time. Since we had Milo with us, I decided to drive over to St. Charles (a little town on the Fox River that Daddy and I both love) and grab some lunch on a dog-friendly patio.

I ordered a beer. +5 self care points?

While we were waiting for our food, Silas informed me that he needed to pee. Just to recap, Silas is 4, cannot take himself to the bathroom, and we were on a patio with a 70lb velcro dog who does not enjoy being left alone.

I told Silas he needed to hold it. He said he could not.

I texted Daddy to see if he had any ideas. He did not.

Then Silas asked me, in the sweetest voice possible, if he could just pee in his pants.

I picked my heart back up off the pavement, slammed it back into my chest and mustered up the courage to ask our waitress if she would mind sitting with our dog for a few minutes while I took Silas to the bathroom. She very sweetly agreed, so I gave her a handful of treats for him and raced off to the bathroom, grateful for her kindness.

We returned to the table and as we waited for our order, I reflected on the way my day was turning out. Not bad, of course. It hasn’t been a bad day by any means. It’s just been so opposite the somber, introspective, grief stricken day that I had imagined it would be. By contrast, it’s been a day filled with so much life. From lingering bronchitis, to thankfully uneventful pediatrician visits, to dog boarders.  From inconvenient potty requests, to kind strangers, to a craft beer enjoyed under the shade of a towering oak tree, a dog snoozing at my feet and Silas zooming cars around the table top. It has been a wonderful, lively day.

There is, of course, a part of me who hurts immeasurably because you aren’t here to enjoy these days. However, as I sat on that patio, watching the dappled sunlight dance through the oak tree and smelling the first hint of dried leaves on the breeze, it felt as though you were telling me something about what today was really for.

Today wasn’t a day for grief. Today was a day for life. Crazy, messy, silly, happy, LIFE.

I left the waitress a hefty tip, along with a note, explaining how her small kindness had meant the world to a random Mom on a sad day. I then threw nap time windows to the wind, and we decided to visit Daddy at work, since it was just down the street. Why the heck not. Silas is napping now (late, and probably not for very long), and I’m sitting in the library, the room that was to be yours. Really, it is yours, I think it might always be. I’m overcome with the kind of peace and relaxation that only seems to find me in this room, and I’m finally doing something I had planned to do today. I’m writing. The words are just very different than what I expected them to be.

On a day which I expected to think only of death, you filled my heart and mind with appreciation for life, be it mundane or exemplary, or some spectacular mix of both.

Thank you for still teaching me, my Little Moon. I hope you always will.

We are all thinking of you, today and every day, and Mommy loves you, my darling girl.

I love you so very, very much.

Mommy

Invisible Warrior

Every single day of my son’s life, I have thought about him dying. Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I wonder if I will find him in his room, the life already gone from his body. Other times, my mind will be free for a while, until I put face lotion in my hands and notice that the blob of moisturizer resembles a number. In an instant, a little voice inside my head tells me that number is representative of the age at which my son will die. Sometimes I rummage around in the kitchen cabinets, searching for a specific coffee mug, because that same little voice has told me if I don’t use it, my son will die. Other times we will be eating at a restaurant, and I will imagine him choking on whatever morsel he has ordered for himself to enjoy. I can see his face turning blue in my mind’s eye. I push food around my plate and try to will the thought away.

Some days are better than others. Some days I only experience one instance of this type of horrifying intrusive thinking. Other times my days are fraught with them. My mind is under siege by an onslaught of terrifying images, fit for a tear-jerking Lifetime movie, or sometimes a horror film.

I have Anxiety & Obsessive Compulsive disorders, and intrusive thinking is symptomatic of both. There are a couple of things to note about Intrusive Thinking, that may not be apparent for someone who has never experienced them.

The first is that they are completely out of my control. I don’t choose these thoughts any more than you chose your eye color. I didn’t ask for them, and I don’t indulge them. I have a variety of techniques that I’ve learned in therapy which help me to clear them, but they (so far) have never disappeared entirely.

The second thing is that they are every bit as horrific as they sound. I love my son deeply, and my anxiety disorder is centered squarely on the debilitating fear that I will lose him. These intrusive thoughts are representative of my mind obsessing over all the ways that it could happen, in a terribly misguided effort toprevent it. The Intrusive Thoughts are the “Obsessive” part of my OCD. The things they drive me to do (use certain coffee mugs, rewrite lotion numbers on my hand) are the “Compulsions”. The brain is sometimes the most inelegant of organs, and OCD isn’t all flicking light switches and counting things. It can look very different.

The third, and final thing, to point out about Intrusive Thoughts, is that they are invisible. If you saw me at a restaurant, I appear to be just a lady sitting at a table with her beautiful family, enjoying a meal. You might judge me for seeming uptight. You might overhear some of our conversation and think I sound like a real paranoid control freak. You might say something to your friends along the lines of “Oh, great, she’s one of those moms.” You might label me as intense, paranoid, controlling. You might identify me as strict, or overbearing, or bitchy. The label you most likely would not give me, however, is the one that would be the most accurate… ill.

My mental illness isn’t something you can see. Aside from the medication I take every day, the mental work I do to battle my illness is also invisible to you. You might not realize that I had to wage war on my own mind, just to be able to leave the house today, just to get this meal with my family.

So, be careful with the labels you attach to people, or the assumptions you might make about them. So many illnesses are invisible to the majority of us. You never know who might secretly be a Warrior, fighting battles on the inside, while living life on the outside.

April Love, Day 26 – Heart

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This April, I am participating in Susannah Conway’s April Love, a month of love letters. Using her predetermined prompts, I’ll be writing a love letter to an aspect of my life every day (well, maybe) in the month of April. Thanks for tagging along!

Dear Heart,

You are amazing.

Physically, you are the center of my life force. You keep things moving and I’ve never been more grateful to you for that than I am right now. I have never been more aware of you than I am right now, in the days since suffering a panic attack so severe that it had me convinced that I was having an actual heart attack. As if that wasn’t enough, getting fitted for a heart monitor just days later to explore the cause of some palpitations I’ve been feeling (and brushing off) for several months. I am tuned in to you now. I am respecting you. I am doing my best to nourish and care for you.

From an abstract perspective, you are a force to be reckoned with. You are a warrior. You have carried the weight of loss and heartache. You have borne the burden of sorrow and pain and yet, you help me to respond with love. Always, with love. Your capacity for such great and constant love in spite of pain and grief, or indeed perhaps because of it, is simply incredible. You teach me so much.

You are searching. Maybe it’s just me, or maybe everyone feels this way after loss, but I seem to constantly be aware of an emptiness within you. A hole that you are seeking to fill. Is it Clara’s spot? I honestly don’t know. This emptiness doesn’t cause me pain, per say. It doesn’t lend itself to any sensation of discomfort. Perhaps the best way to describe its affect would be to say that it drives me. It’s as if my heart is looking for the final flower to complete a perfect arrangement. I am, truthfully, not sure what it is that you need, but I recognize your need for something.

I will stay open.

I will listen to you.

I promise.

With love, always –

Kelly