It's All a Choice

I vividly remember my mom meal planning each week. It was painful to watch as she sat at the kitchen table and made out the plans for each week, then each Monday she would go grocery shopping. It was never fun, nor were any of us kids helpful to the process. I vowed never to get so caught up in those details and frustrations when I became a mom.

Fast forward to today, and my husband and I are going on 10 years of marriage. We have two kids, and all the chaos that comes with life... including the chaos that comes along with family meals. I have always valued the time we have together as our little unit of four to connect at the end of each day. In my mind, it would always be a time of harmony and chatter. In reality, we bicker and fuss, we have phones going off in the background, and the kids have more food on them than in them.

They look so cute and innocent... until we start talking about dinner!

As things became increasingly hectic and demanding, I responded with increasing resentment. Not because I don't love my husband and family, but because why me? Why should I be burdened with the responsibility of it all? Why should the planning and shopping only fall on my shoulders? I don't want to be as frustrated as my mom was so many years ago, but man it's such a struggle!

Then, I had a friend at work who recently discovered the glorious wonders of the InstaPot. I bought an electric pressure cooker several years ago and knew its magical wonders, but my friend would come to work each day beaming about the new dishes she was able to cook up in mere minutes. Let me add that this friend is also recovering from shoulder surgery and has been doing all of her cooking with just one hand.

My friend's excitement for cooking was fascinating to me, which evolved into an awakening of sorts. I began to realize that, like most conflicts, I have as much guilt as the party (or parties) I am frustrated with. My resentment was rooted in fear and this martyr complex that I harbor. I find myself run ragged, but never asking for help or support. I would rather fall on the sword (quite loudly and obnoxiously) than to reach out for help.

The more I pondered my friend's joy, I began to acknowledge that she is actively making the choice to be joyful. This girl is cooking dinner for her family every night with an arm tied to her side, literally. Here I was, completely able, and still whining and moaning about one thing or another. My litany of excuses has expanded from the oh-so-mature "it's not fair" routine to the even-more-mature "it's his mother's fault" routine. I can tell you that while those excuses cleared me of any guilt, they certainly did not change the situation or the frustration I continued to feel.

In the past, I have tried to conquer this mountain in the easiest ways possible. I've subscribed to Home Chef (great meals, but kind of pricey for a family full of boys), Dinnerly (cheaper, but not quite as easy and not as much food), and eMeals (I liked the app's ability to connect with Walmart Grocery pick-up, but got some expired food from that experience and just prefer to pick out my own produce). I knew that what I was trying to use to fill in these gaps was simply not working. No subscription service is able to know what my family likes or dislikes. And while the food may taste gourmet, there was always some shortfall.

That said, I felt inspired by my friend. If she can plan meals each week with a smile on her face (and an arm tied to her side), then so could I. But I wanted to start slowly. I mean, seriously, I can't turn this whole show around in a matter of a week! I started talking to my husband about meals and my frustrations I felt surrounding mealtime at the house. I can't tell you how much better it felt to talk to him, by the way. I've talked about my anger and frustrations with my friends, but have not always welcomed him to the conversation. This was beginning to feel like more of a team effort, which eased my heart into accepting this challenge.

The first week, I went with a solid idea. We have an Aldi nearby, and I love the fact that I'm saving money, but still getting quality food. That said, it is seasonal (which is a good thing, folks!) so some of the produce might not be readily available. I found a great blog, Queen of Free, and she had a back-to-school meal plan. It seemed appropriate since we were going back to school after Christmas break, so I went with. This plan is specific to Aldi and gives a shopping list. I lived by this meal plan for my grocery shopping for the week. I felt my confidence begin to boost after my first successful week. There were no last-minute decisions, nor was I making countless trips to the grocery store so I could throw something together that night. I felt like I could get the hang of this!

Week two was a little more complicated (of course!). This is where I begin to get a little picky, but I try to stick to some basic ideas. I went back to Queen of Free, but this time I used her recipe for Turkey Nachos (I had leftover meat in the freezer from the week before), and I made the Sloppy Joes from the menu. I also went a little rogue and made BBQ chicken sliders in the electric pressure cooker. I just threw in my boneless, skinless chicken thighs, put BBQ sauce and about a cup of chicken broth (you can use water, too) over them, and set it on the poultry setting. Once they were done, I shredded the chicken and put it in Hawaiian rolls. My friend makes personal pizzas with this idea too. That's probably going on next week's menu... act surprised!

Also, we had small group at church on Wednesday night. Aldi has these great take 'n bake pizzas that are massive! I bought two of those for that meeting, and they saved me over half of what I was spending for takeout. The group loved them and my pocketbook will thank me later for that one!

Here's my menu from week 2:

Monday: BBQ Chicken Sliders with carrot sticks and grapes
Tuesday: Breakfast (from the back-to-school meal plan)
Wednesday: Take 'n Bake pizzas (small group at church)
Thursday: Sloppy Joes, Chips, cucumber sticks, & applesauce
Friday: Turkey Nachos
Saturday: Free Night
Sunday: Spaghetti & Meatballs

As a side note, I had a pound of turkey to use for the meatballs, but you can use any meat you'd like. Mix your meat with one egg, a half cup of breadcrumbs, 2 tsp. Italian seasoning, 1 tsp. salt, and a dash of cayenne pepper. Roll them into balls about one inch in diameter. You'll want to brown them, about 3 minutes per side, then put your sauce in and let them simmer for about 20 minutes. Feel free to freeze some of them if you don't want to use them all. We're using leftovers for lunches, so we cooked them all.

For the third week of planning, I'm taking advantage of the fact that it is freezing here in NC, so I've planned a lot with my Crockpot. I use the recipes fairly interchangeably with the electric pressure cooker, but add more liquid for the pressure cooker. Because I actually planned our meals out in advance and went grocery shopping, I was able to prep all of the meals for the week on Sunday night. I put the main ingredients in a Ziplock bag and sealed it shut. Before I head out for work in the mornings, I just throw a liner in the Crockpot (necessary!!) and dump my meal in there too. On the night of, I like to serve my meals with fresh fruit and/or veggies. These make super easy sides that are healthy and require minimal prep.

Week three meals were planned and prepped by Sunday night!

This week, I'm serving:
Monday: Honey Sesame Chicken with rice and fresh berries
Tuesday: White Chicken Chili
Wednesday: Honey Pork and Apples
Thursday: Chicken and Sweet Potatoes
Friday: Slow Cooker BBQ Chicken Thighs with cucumber slices and fresh fruit
Saturday: Free Night - Eat out
Sunday: Take 'n Bake pizza from Aldi with a salad and fresh berries

Honey Pork & Apples are in the CrockPot and will be waiting for us when we get home!

I'm still working on next week (and my attitude). I'll keep you posted as it all comes together.

Choosing joy,
Mel

Heartbreaks and Hesitations

I have never felt quite so conflicted in my life. I have been called to tell a story that I didn't want to tell. I know how I've reacted in the past to others - with sighs and eye rolls - thinking they must be telling this story for attention and pity. If you find yourself thinking those things of me while reading this entry, then I beg you to stop reading. I do not desire your pity nor do I want your attention. I also pray for your grace and forgiveness, knowing that my prior responses were not kind in spirit, nor what I am called to do as a Christian.

My purpose in sharing this story is multifaceted. If you've been through a similar experience, it's to let you know that you are not alone. If you've met someone going through this experience, I hope my words can lead you into productive, uplifting conversation with that person. I pray it helps me heal a little, too.

You see, my dear husband and I have been carrying around this weight of pain for months. Some of you know, some of you don't. If you don't know, it's not because we don't love you or because you're not "close enough" to us. If you don't know, it's because we didn't have the energy to weather the emotional hurricane that often comes when sharing this story. It's easier for us, especially me, to pretend that everything is normal and fine than to admit the reality of hurt that we've experienced. We are blessed with a very active little boy - he is what us southerners refer to as "a handful." :) He fills our days with joy and laughter. My husband, Shannon, and I decided that our family was not quite complete and we felt that the time was right for us to begin trying to have another child.

However, on August 5, 2015, Shannon and I lost our baby to miscarriage. I was a little over 10 weeks along. No, I had not met my baby. No, I had not held my baby. But, that doesn't diminish the bond of this child's existence within me. Prior to this loss, I minimized miscarriage. It couldn't be that bad, right? You never hear that child cry, held that child in your arms, or even knew what gender the child was. I was so clueless. I reprimanded myself for reacting so strongly to this loss, thinking I should be completely resilient to this loss and unaffected beyond a couple of days of heartbreak. I was so, so wrong. It's been 6 months and my heart still aches. That date is burned within my brain. I'll never forget where I was, what I was doing, even the movie I was watching.

We've heard every explanation. Some people said that something must have been wrong with the baby. The doctor said something was not "perfect." Maybe so, but I won't know. And, unfortunately, those little nuggets never provided the intended comfort and solace. We even had someone say, "that sucks." No, losing your keys and getting locked out of your house on a rainy day sucks. I *wish* this just sucked.

In the tidal wave that followed, I felt shameful that my body failed me. I had some jacked up vision that I was immune to this. I found comfort from so many friends telling me stories of their "Rainbow Babies" who followed immediately after their miscarriages. My naivete convinced me that I would have a similar experience to comfort someone else with in the future. However, it hasn't happened for us. I'm sure there's a greater purpose than what I immediately realize, but the waiting is unbelievably frustrating and another painful reminder of what we've lost.

Yet, in all the hopeless sorrow we have been swimming in, we find hope. We may never have the blessing of another child in our family, but I have learned such tremendous lessons and drawn closer to our heavenly Father than ever before. I believe that what happened was not a mistake. I can't believe that my God is as amazing as He is and also believe that he might have screwed this instance up. It isn't possible. Sometimes mercy is severe, but it is mercy nonetheless. Psalms 145: 8-9 says, "The Lord is gracious and full of compassion, slow to anger and great in mercy. The Lord is good to all, and His tender mercies are over all His works." I cling to this truth. We don't deserve the beautiful life that we live with love and grace abounding.

There's a song sung by Kristene Dimarco, "It Is Well," and it truly depicts the journey we've been through.  Through this journey, our eyes have been on Him, and it is well with our souls. We don't get it. We may never get it. But, we are coming to peace with this experience. Ultimately, we are not in control of our story - and that's okay. The inner control freak inside of me has to be reminded that if I were in control, I would mess up so much. My perspective is but one narrow viewpoint of the greater story being carried out.

What I have learned in all of this is that there is so much more to life than this short story of pain and hurt. We rejoice in our amazing gifts and blessings, knowing that our story will continue to blossom.  Psalms 27:13-14 says it perfectly, "I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart; wait, I say, on the Lord."