And Now You Know.

I've never been much for self-disclosure. I like my privacy, and I respect the privacy of others. (Okay, I get nosey sometimes, but who doesn't?) You generally can't figure out my day to day happenings by looking at my Facebook. I don't "check in" anywhere. I don't tell you what I'm up to. Sometimes I might post a picture or let you in on a small, sometimes significant detail. I don't use Twitter, and I don't Instagram. I'm aware of the benefits of social networking, and I'm aware of the risks of social networking. I don't limit my general candidness based on either those benefits or risks. I'm just someone who would rather sit and have coffee with you one on one. If you get me alone, I'm an open book. I'll tell you close to anything. You will probably want me to shut up. 

So this is different for me. 

I've recently been really inspired by the bravery of others. People that I know and people that I don't know who use their platform to be brutally honest with their readers. I've been personally affected by one post in particular written by a friend who I went to grad school with. She laid it all on the line, and she made a difference. In the hopes that someone who reads this might find solace in the words that follow, here goes everything:

Tomorrow morning I'm going to therapy. After ruling out a hormone problem, we're (me and the doctor) pretty sure that this Thing I'm dealing with is depression. I don't just feel sad sometimes. I feel tired. I feel overwhelmed. I feel anxious. I cry. A lot. I can't focus. I don't want to be around people. I get angry. I don't feel motivated. I've lost interest in many things that I used to be passionate about. The list goes on. 

This is something I have dealt with most of my life. It comes and goes, and I generally get through it on my own. These feelings are not new to me. No, they are all too familiar. In the past I had my own bedroom to hide in. I had my own meals to prepare. Really, I had no one but myself to worry about. Yes, it may have affected others around me when I would isolate myself, but no one was ever greatly affected by my own emotions. Things are different now. I don't have my own room. I can't just pick up and leave when I want to get away. I can't hide anymore. And that's a good thing. But it's a hard thing. I am grateful for my husband who has been so supportive and put up with so much more than he deserves. It is time to get well. 

I was referred to a therapist, and after finding out that our health insurance actually covers this, I gratefully made an appointment. So I go tomorrow. 

Why is this so hard to talk about? Why is there so much shame and stigma attached to this issue? Why did I desperately wish there was a hormonal imbalance that I could blame for my rather unsavory disposition? As a society, we stigmatize mental health issues so quickly and further make each person struggling with one feel even more marginalized. This is such a lonely place to be. And largely because I'm afraid to talk to people about it. Largely because it's so misunderstood.

I've barely talked to anyone about this. And I'm still not really sure that I'm ready to. What I am sure of, is that I'm ready to get better. I'm ready to feel like myself again. 

I know am a blessed person. God has blessed me with so much to be grateful for, and I am grateful. He reminds me daily that He is bigger than I am. I am His child, and He takes care of me. I am grateful today for people in the mental health profession who are trained in compassion and understanding the issue of depression. I am grateful that He has provided this resource for me to take advantage of. I am grateful for friends and fellow bloggers who have taken courageous steps in talking about their own struggle with depression. 

J and I on our recent trip to Monterey, celebrating our first year anniversary. GOOD day!

Remember

In honor of those who have served and are serving... Thank You. 

My Grandpa - Bottom Row, 3rd from Right

Pink S'mores

I swear not all of my posts will be about food, but seriously, who doesn't like food? 

I was asked by a good friend a couple weeks ago if I would make a dessert for a reception celebrating the baptism of her daughter. I was honored by her request, and began thinking about what I would create for this special event.

I'm not a huge fan of chocolate (I welcome hate mail), but these weren't for me. My mind kept returning to the idea of making S'mores Cupcakes, but I couldn't find a recipe online that I fell in love with. I gathered ideas from several different sites and created my own idea of a s'mores cupcake. They were a hit. So I figured I'd post the process here:

I don't have pictures of the whole process, so bare with me here....

Graham Cracker Crust:

Finely process several graham crackers in a food processor. Mix with melted butter. It should be just wet enough to press firmly into the bottom of each cupcake wrapper. 

Chocolate Cake:

This was my first shot at a homemade chocolate cake. It was really easy. Trust me. 

For the sake of saving space and, really, so it's just a little more aesthetically pleasing, I'm just going to link you directly to the recipe. I used Hershey's Perfectly Chocolate Cake. Yum.

Marshmallow Filling:

I was warned about making this. The weather was a bit overcast on the day I made it, which I was told weren't ideal conditions to attempt this frosting. But I'm stubborn and decided to try it anyway. It took a little longer than I think it's supposed to, but it finally set.

4 egg whites

1 cup sugar

Pinch of salt

Combine these ingredients over a double boiler, whisking continuously, until sugar is fully dissolved and the mixture is hot to touch.

Transfer to mixing bowl and mix on medium high. Add 1 teaspoon vanilla, and continue to mix until soft peaks form and it's nice a fluffy. This took about 10 minutes on the day I did it, but I think it could vary depending on the moisture in the air. 

Chocolate Ganache:

Fancy name, super easy. 

1 cup heavy whipping cream

1 cup chocolate chips

Melt chocolate chips and whipping cream together in a saucepan over medium-low heat, stirring constantly. See? Easy. (Don't do this step until you're ready to actually use the ganache. You can do it ahead of time, but be prepared to melt it down again so you can easily spoon it on the cupcakes. The point here is to have a really thin layer of ganache. It will be pretty wet when you put it on, but it will set.

Marshmallow Buttercream:

Okay, so here's where I really don't know how much I put of what. You can really play around with it, which I did. Here's an estimate of what I ended up with.

5 oz. softened cream cheese

1/2 cup. softened butter

about 3 cups powdered sugar

2ish TBSP. milk

1 tsp. vanilla

1 jar marshmallow cream

Mix it all together until creamy and fluffy. You may have to add more milk (just a little at a time), or more powdered sugar. You're just going to want it to be at a good consistency that will be easy to pipe, but stiff enough to keep it's shape.

Ok, so those are all the components. Here's the steps:

1. Pack the graham cracker crust in the bottom of each liner. 
2. Pour in the cake batter and bake according to directions. Let cool completely.
3. Fill each cupcake with the marshmallow filling by piping it directly into the center. It's okay if it oozes out the top a bit.
4. Spoon the ganache over the top of each cupcake. Let set. You may have to refrigerate them if you want them to set more quickly.
5. Pipe the Marshmallow Buttercream out onto the cupcakes.
6. Embellish as desired. I used half of a Hershey's square and a broken piece of graham cracker to give it the s'mores look. I was also doing this for a little girl who loves pink, so I put pink sugar on them, too. I saw some people who used a kitchen torch to toast the marshmallow frosting a bit, and I thought that looked great, but I was afraid of melting my ganache and wasn't sure how it would turn out. 

Here's the final look: (again, the picture was taken using my phone. Sorry there aren't more pics.)

Don't Try This At Home

I was all giddy last night as I took the leftover quinoa from dinner and the two ripe bananas and started to make a pudding out of them. I kept thinking, "wow, my blog readers are gonna be so impressed. This is gonna be all over Pinterest. I'm about to be a star." (Or something along these lines.) 

I measured some stuff out, took note about how much of this, and how much of that. I was all methodical and prepared to become your idol after I posted my masterpiece to my blog. It was brilliant. I was brilliant.

And then I finished.

Well, almost. Then I added the vanilla immediately after removing from heat. This is important, and I was going to tell you that.

And then I finished.

I poured it into a tupperware container to let cool. 

And then I realized something.

I forgot the egg.

Fail.

Sa-mo'-a-that-please!

I actually have a board on Pinterest titled "My Husband Wants Me to Make This." That is where most of the sweet stuff that I have pinned has landed. It's full of caramely, coconuty, chocolatey sweetness. So you would think that when I came across this pin, I would have pinned it to this board.

But I didn't.

I love Girl Scout Samoa cookies. (Now called Caramel deLites? I mean, that just makes it seem like they have fewer calories than they used to. And to my knowledge, they don't.) I know it is up for debate in most households which is the best Girls Scout cookie. But not mine. This is it. This is The One.

So I saw this recipe, and I had to try it. My original plan was to make them as a surprise for my husband to take with him on a weekend with a bunch of men from our church. But after all the effort that went into them, the thought of sending all two dozen of them with him only to be devoured in about 5 seconds by a bunch of hungry men inspired me to whip up an easy batch of butterscotch chocolate chip cookies. He took about 5 of the Samoas with him, but left the rest home for both of us to enjoy over the full week. Good decision, hubs.

So here's the recipe. As she states, it's not really a whip up, scoop, bake, and finish kind of cookie. It takes time. But oh man, is it worth it. My husband and I both agree that they even get better after a couple of days in the fridge.

This is my actual final product. I will try to improve on the picture taking...

I Am Not My Hair

For those that have known me for any amount of time at all, know my hair. Long. Sometimes curly, sometimes straight. I got compliments on it all the time. And that felt good. I liked my hair, too.

But I also hated my hair. I mean, yeah, I hated having to brush out the matted mess it had become before showering, or before going to bed, or before doing anything, really. I hated deciding what I was going to do with my hair each day. I hated that if I didn't wash my hair EVERY DAY it was just nasty. There was all that. But I also hated the way it made me feel. Like that if I didn't have my hair I wouldn't be pretty. If I didn't have my hair, would people still compliment me?

I've struggled my whole life with receiving compliments. Somewhere, in a distant time and place, I decided that if people said something nice about the way I looked, they were probably lying about it just to make me feel better. I thought they actually felt sorry for the way I looked, so they were just trying to be nice in some weird and twisted way. I never believed people when they would tell me I was pretty or even use the word beautiful. Because I didn't believe it was true.

But my hair was somehow different. I knew I had pretty hair. It was the one physical thing about myself that I actually believed was beautiful.

I've always been a big girl. I lost some weight around the time I got married, only to gain most of it back in a years time. I'm not proud of this, but it's reality. But I'm a big girl. Does this mean I can't be pretty? Does this mean I'm an undesirable person? Truthfully, I subscribe to those thoughts about myself more than anyone I know and love probably does. But I'm in the process of changing that.

So I cut all my hair off. 18 inches.

This hasn't meant an immediate transformation in thought. As previously stated, it's a process. But I like my new hair. It's fun! And I feel pretty. Which is important.

Before making the cut, I asked myself these exact questions: "Is cutting my hair going to make me look fatter? Is my husband still going to be attracted to me? Will my mom be mad at me?" Results: If anything, I lost weight because of all the hair no longer attached to my head. My husband loves my new haircut. My mom isn't mad at me. Turns out I'm still the same person I was with long hair. Only, in my opinion, better.

Despite his face, he really does like my hair...

*Update: my husband says it was at least 21 inches that was cut. Not 18. But who's counting?

I'm Offensive

So as it turns out, I'm afraid of offending people. I didn't know this about myself before really processing why it is I don't blog as often as I'd like. I mean, I have A TON of thoughts, and daily I find myself thinking, "I should blog about that." And then I don't. Why? Because maybe it contains some questionable material. Maybe I would use a word that isn't pretty. Maybe I would reveal something about myself that people didn't know, and then they'll stop liking me. So maybe it isn't a fear of offending people. Or maybe it is. And that the consequence of being offensive is having less people like me. 

That's really strange for me to think about, considering that most people I'm close to are people who I'm really not afraid to share my thoughts with at all. I disagree with people a lot. And I'm okay with that. So why am I afraid of putting my thoughts on a blog for all to see and form their own opinions about? I'm really not sure. But it feels different somehow. 

But here's the thing: I need to do this. I need to have an outlet where I don't have to censor my thoughts. Regardless if you get offended. And if you do, I'm sorry. Have a conversation with me. I'd love to talk to you about it. But in the meantime, I have to allow myself some freedom. 

* I hate that the Chase commercial singing "Frreeeeedommmm, frreeeedoooommm,...." is stuck in my head right now. You know the one? And now you're singing it, too? Ok, good. 

Unity.

I am a married woman. 

What does this mean? Let me tell you.

It means that I am faced daily with this person who I fell in love with once upon a time. Me. It means that even though I love myself, apparently more than anyone else, I made a choice to honor and respect and love another even more. It means that I have to do this, that I have to choose to do this, even when I don't feel honored, respected, or loved by anyone. It means that it's not about me. 

I got really used to things being about me after 28 years of having only me to look after and to love. I thought I was pretty neat, too. Easy to love, lovely to be around. 

And then I got married. And then I started to fall out of love with myself.

This is the worst thing. And this is the very best thing. 

I am learning what it means to get dressed in the morning in something rather unfashionable. I am learning how to put on compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. One foot at a time, my Father teaches me how to step into these threads. He teaches me how to wear something I've never been good at putting on by myself. He teaches me that I was never meant to do it by myself. 

Being married means that God is wrecking me for His glory. Being married means that I have made a promise to someone that, by the very grace of my Maker, I can keep. Being married means falling out of love with my old self, and learning to love me all over again. With a partner by my side. 

What a gift. 

Oh, Hi!

I'm really kind of over other social media sites right now. Except Pinterest. I love Pinterest. I have somewhat of an unhealthy love for Pinterest. In fact, I think it will be responsible for a whole new generation of hoarders. Seriously. I went to the flea market on Saturday and I there was something at every booth that I could have made something out of. Too bad I have just a small one bedroom apartment. Not too much room to store all my re-purposing goodies.

I really could go on and on about Pinterest, and I doubt this is the last you'll hear about it from me. But that's not what this is about. Well, not really.

I work from home. I attend class online. In my living room. I barely leave this place on weekdays except to go for a walk or to the gym. [Uh, who am I kidding....I went to the gym yesterday for the first time in forever, and now I'm gonna try to act like it's a common get-away weekday destination? I'm setting goals here, people. Work with me.] So yeah, I barely leave this place. I've become somewhat of a recluse between the circumstances of my job and my own doing. But I really do like people. I miss people, and since I use the computer to do most of life, why not add blogging and try to connect with people again? Good plan, right??

Well, truth is, I've been wanting to do this for awhile. I get so inspired looking, reading, and browsing other people's blogs. I think to myself, "I can do that." I think that all the time, though. I need to actually do that which I claim I can. So here I am.

I'm currently caught up in this world between discovering a passion for baking and cooking and needing desperately to shed some pounds. I know I'm not alone here. But I really like baking. I don't have much a sweet tooth [salt? yes.], but lucky for me, my husband has about 32 of them. [How many teeth do adults have again?] So I bake. And he eats. And he doesn't gain a pound. And inevitably I end up at least trying what I've baked and I make up for the both of us on the scale. Lovely.

I have a point. And it's this. I am going to try to use this new outlet to share my passions, update my life [wow. get excited.], and post some pics. I'll probably be on other sites less and less [except Pinterest.], so if you're wondering where to find me, you just did. Congrats.

Now I have reading to do. But I also have a can of pumpkin in my cupboard...