Hello! I’ve hijacked my mom’s blog today to bring you important news: that I exist. Yep. I am the whole package: I’m loving towards any and all people (emphasis on “people” because how dare other dogs occupy the same plane of existence as me! That’s my gig!), I’m well-behaved (that’s right, I turn tricks for peanut butter), I’m about eleven years old (so you know I’m chill AF), and my whole package is only six pounds, so I’m a super portable, on-the-go awesome package! But enough about me… in a general sense. Let’s get down to me in a very specific sense. In fact, allow me to walk you through a typical day for me as the official mascot of the Galicia household.
My day starts off like any other creature similarly-situated. At around 6:00am, my dad’s alarm goes off (or so I’m told; I ignore it most times, unless he nudges me in his own efforts to tap it and continue ignoring it) and periodically does so until he unleashes the wrath of Cerberus, brusquely turns off the alarm, and gets out of bed. At this point, I snuggle up with Mom who loves me so much that she doesn’t mind me getting RIGHT in the crook of her knee, continuously adjusting myself for about three minutes then, once I’ve found the perfect spot, get that surprise itch on my rear that can only be reached by jamming my foot against Mom’s skin to really get a good reach back there. I think that, at this point in our lives, it’s become her gentle wake-up call. After everyone is up and moving, my supposed “little brother” (he seems to get bigger by the week!) wakes up and they change his very smelly diaper while I do my best to distract him from the morning drudgery of realizing one is no longer soundly sleeping by burying my face in the carpet, running around him, and all around just being adorable me. I’m finally let out to do my business, which let me tell you, I need to go like a greyhound every morning, so it’s SUCH a huge relief, and then I’m let back in to chow down on my delicious meal. I’ve been getting fed organic meat-based food since I can remember and it’s never disappointed me (granted, it kinda means my palette is fairly narrow, but I try not to think about it because COME ON, why ruin a great thing!). Now, before lil’ bro came along, we’d spend our days hanging out at the house, going to the park, going to various stores, and talking about how I’m the best thing since sliced cheese. Now, however, we’ve added an activity which Mom seems to REALLY enjoy because she does it all. day. long. Pictures. So many pictures! And not just random pictures. I’m talking about costumes, props, positioning, and re-shoots! I’m sure that I look “Lassie” good in the photos because Mom has an eye for these things (I mean, check out Dad!), but some days I feel less like that majestic specimen and more like ALF. Sources close to me (read: Mom and Dad) tell me I look fantastic and that I’m on some websites now (You love me! You really love me!) and I trust Mom’s skill, so I go along with it. After photos, we get to the play segment of the day, wherein little brother plays with his toys and I engage in a game of my own invention: don’t get trampled. It’s a game that I thankfully and proudly carry an undefeated streak! After an exhausting day of sitting, punctuated with some running, and being praised, we get to begin my favorite part of the day: winding down. I look forward to this most of all because the little man goes to sleep and I get to re-live days past: cuddled up between Mom and Dad for long periods of time, with breaks in between when my behind makes a funny noise, they suddenly go crazy about something, and I have to go to my bed for a bit. Finally, we go to bed, I gently remind Dad that I need to curl up between his legs, and we’re off to the dream races. It’s a simple life, but one that I’ve come to greatly enjoy and I relish every moment due to its consistency. We’ve lived in many different places my entire life, so it’s always reassuring that some things haven’t changed and hopefully won’t. Speaking of consistency, I’m going to end here and return this blog to its own consistency of being done by a human. Plus, typing is an absolute beast when you don’t have thumbs!
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“Nesting.” That’s a term with which I’m sure many of you ladies are quite familiar. And, for my male readers, I’m sure you’ve heard this word be used by your significant other/mother/sister. If you’re a male who has never heard the term “nesting” in your life… how did you come to find my blog?! Seriously, I’m genuinely curious how you came across my posts! Did you search for “blog about the crunchy lifestyle” when you meant “blog about the munchy lifestyle?” Either way, welcome, thank you for joining me today, and I am deep in the throes of “nesting crisis” right now, so please have chocolates and/or wine available.
My husband was recently offered a tempting position in a new city which fills his every criterion that he has sought his entire career. The pros: he will be much happier, he will have more time to spend with the family, and we will have more disposable income. The cons: we are moving further from family and friends (particularly the friends in the neighborhood to whom our son has become very attached), I have to organize the entire process of moving us between cities (as has unfortunately become tradition), and, if this house could speak, it would tell you of the many firsts that my amazing family had here, which we have to leave behind. This was the house where we brought home our first child. This was the house where our son spoke his first word. This was the first house where we fully decorated it to our liking for Christmas after years of being limited by apartment living. This was the first house where I was able to organize and arrange everything to completely express my family image. This was our first house (which one of you is cutting digital onions?!). I don’t want you to think that I am not looking forward to this. Trust me, I have been waiting for an opportunity such as this for a long time now. My husband has had to toil for his entire career (his fault for being so indecisive, but I digress), but it seems that he has found his calling, and this calling allows him to see us for more than two hours max each day! Plus, the city where the job is located is VERY active and will provide many options for diverse activities for the entire family. The issue, as I stated at the beginning of this blog, is the fact that, once again, I must nest. “Nesting,” for those two of you who are unaware, is the process of organizing and arranging a home to the point that it feels comfortable and reflective of who you are. As simple as that definition is, the actual execution is so much harder! Ever heard of feng shui? Well, combine feng shui with actually HAVING to feng shui for the gorrillionth (my dear husband’s fake word) time! There are two very concrete benefits to moving, though: prioritizing objects and getting rid of junk. It’s amazing how much changes in one’s life in just a few years. For example, my husband and I used a SodaStream device almost religiously when we first moved here. You know, that magical item which carbonated all your liquids? Pro tip: don’t carbonate milk. There are an infinitesimally small number of things that go against both God and nature in general; one of those things is carbonated milk. That’s just a small chance in our lives, but in general we have been able to move many appliances and pieces of furniture that no longer represent who we are as individuals and as a family. We are also in the process of getting rid of our rocking chair, certain toys our son only uses to play “hide and the bottom of your foot seeks” and old puzzles. One pro I didn’t mention earlier is that a move allows one to parse out what is no longer needed, get rid of the unnecessary items, and allow room for future events that require said freed space.
What does this all have to do with nesting, you might ask? Well, it has EVERYTHING to do with it! All in all, we are excited for the change. I have already taken the liberty to engage in the new locale’s Crunchy Mom, free trade, and cloth diaper groups. I have been able to purge my belongings of items that only serve to take up space in my home and don’t accurately reflect who I am now as a person and as a member of my family. Finally, when you put all those ideas together, you form the equation that creates who I am now as an individual and as a mother and wife. Change is a double-edged sword, requiring you to make sacrifices in order to fully realize its potential but, by making those sacrifices, you are able to grow that much more into your current identity and feel that much more comfortable as who you are becoming. By changing, I am able to nest all that I have in such a way as to reflect who I am, in all aspects of who I am and who my family is. I’ve come to appreciate ending these posts on a quote, so here’s another one for you, by my forever-ago homeboy Lao Tzu: “Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”
I’m a Texas girl, born and raised and, while I love my Lone Star state, I can’t help but feel a little less than enthusiastic about the climate. I have experienced everything from the punishing, blistering, unforgiving heat of a Texas summer to the punishing blistering, unforgiving heat of a Texas winter. What that means for me is that my family, friends, and I are motivated to spend a lot of time inside, which I almost always use as an opportunity to do something hugely important: spend QUALITY time together.
Why did I capitalize every letter of “quality,” you might ask? Well, it’s because that is the key word that is often not practiced in that phrase; that and my Caps Lock key stuck for a second and I’m too lazy to correct it. Look, anyone can spend time together; physically speaking, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. It happens every single day and I’m willing to bet that the majority of you can look up from this post and see one of your loved ones nearby, on their phone, watching TV, reading, etc… Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, there’s a lot to be said for engaging in a solo activity where its only purpose is for your personal enjoyment (teeheehee, I made a dirty joke). However, quality time goes a step further. It means actively engaging with others in a meaningful and focused way. The number of ways this can be done is as varied and voluminous as the stars at night (which are, coincidentally, big and bright…. *clap clap clap clap* DEEP IN THE HEART OF TEXAS!!!!). For example, my husband and I greatly enjoy board games, so we regularly spend at least a couple of hours a few times a week building up an empire, stealing artifacts, conquering land, so on and so forth. Most commonly-known games are played head-to-head, but there has been a revolution in the past several years where the popularity of board games has exploded to where there are a multitude of different playstyles, such as cooperative, asymmetric, and a mix of these genres. The best part of this activity is that it can be expanded to include more people for the same game (provided the game is equipped for it). One of our favorite games plays perfectly well with two, but can accommodate up to six people! I’ve already posted about cooking time with my son. Him being so young, there’s not exactly a great deal of thought-provoking chatter, unless you consider me telling him that the knife is definitely not a spoon repeatedly as some sort of self-imposed thought experiment on Darwinism. When he is behaving himself, however, his face lights up seeing various items boiling or simmering in pots, seeing ingredients mixing together to form a seemingly new substance that’s letting off a new, intoxicating, aroma and, finally, it all coming together to become the meal he helped to prepare. Now, that’s a lot to glean from just his face lighting up, so it helps reinforce my idea that that’s what’s going on in his mind when he looks at me and has the biggest smile on his face.
Listen to me people! Open your earholes (don’t hurt yourselves though – I cannot be held liable for any earhole-opening situations after this post) and ponder this: it’s really fun to bond with people on a one-on-one basis and it does the soul good (BOOM! I just Cliff Notes’d the EFF out of “Chicken Soup for the Soul!” You’re welcome). And for you folks who just don’t do human interaction, try reading a book or listening to some songs with someone; something low-key that still gives you the interaction without the effort of having to actively engage in some activity. Remember, I said in the beginning that quality time meant “meaningful” and “focused.” There’s no energy requirement in my definition of the term. I do have a footnote to my definition, though: alcohol helps. After all, Benjamin Franklin once stated “In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is freedom, in water there is bacteria.”
Before I even knew it was a thing, or that there was a term for it, I was crunchy. Hi, my name is Tiffany and I'm a crunchy mom (*unenthusiastic* Hi, Tiffany). My whole adult life I have favored the natural, the organic, the al fresco (*blush*); while others around me we're drawn to the admittedly more convenient, albeit more negatively impactful, facets of life, I went full force Frost and took the road less travelled by. However, it wasn't until I moved to the Austin area that my seemingly unique universe came colliding with the macrocosm that is the Austin crunchy scene. I thought that my composting, organic home cooking, and home crafting made me a superstar. "Oooohhh, bless your heart!" I said to myself. I'll just regale y'all with the first three that come to mind.
My first foray into true crunchy granola pass-me-the-almond-milk status came about when preparing for my son's birth. My husband and I heard about cloth diapering and were intrigued by its prospects: cheaper in the long-term, safer on a baby's skin, a huge variety of designs to choose from, the list goes on. Needless to say, we are now deep in the s#!t (ba-dum-tss), with many, many cloth diapers and even a few cloth wipes! The biggest hassle is cleaning out the poopy ones, but that's a small price to pay when you only have to throw them in the wash after and they're good as new.
Second was deciding to give birth at a local birthing center. Now before I get too deep into this, allow me to dispel one common misconception: my son was not born in a run-down shed while a frantic woman yells for others to boil water and rip up some sheets. Birthing centers are very sanitary, well-equipped locations with medically trained and certified staff. As a bonus, our particular center provided regular classes grouped by women who were similarly pregnant to provide a sense of community and support. It was very comforting and extremely educational, especially for my husband, which was crucial as he had been informed he was actually going to be a part of the birthing process (yep, he got me into this mess, so he's going to help speed up me getting out of it!). Ultimately, it was a rewarding experience as both my child and I were drug-free, for better and for worse, and completely cognizant for the whole process, especially that first touch.
Finally, let's get into the heavy stuff (trust me, you'll find this phrase much more meaningful in a second). My most recent activity is using menstrual cups instead of pads or tampons. It is a slog in the beginning because there is NO such thing as a one-size-fits-all cup. But once you find that "Goldilocks" cup, you will be in heaven. Well, as much as you can when your body is shedding part of itself off. I still use pads, but only during the occasional odd period. Well, that's all for today, folks! Let me leave y'all with a bit of advice, given by my main man Dumbledore: "Words are, in my not so humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic, capable of both inflicting injury and remedying it."
It's a hot summer day today. The sky is clear, there is only the slightest of breezes to provide even a hint of relief from the consistently high, albeit not exactly welcome, temperature. Or course, I live in Texas, so this weather is not out of the ordinary. But, while I may be used to it, that doesn't mean I like it; especially when I have a toddler constantly at my heels. Yes, he's the love of my life. Yes, I would give anything to ensure his health and happiness. That is really put to the test when, while folding another load of laundry, the apple of my eye has spilled out his bucket of toys again and rammed my ankle with his toy truck for the fourth time today. Isn't there some saying about a rotten apple?
As you will come to know, I greatly enjoy cooking and baking. It serves the dual function of relaxing me and being productive. My favorite part of it all is enjoying the fruits (read: sinfully delicious and in no way nutritious bites) of my labor, so my first mode of self-care is making myself dessert. I'm partial to making ice cream, as I can pair it with a complementary glass of wine and feel accomplished while binging another season of The Office on the couch in the dark (I can't feel judged if I'm too Fair Trade chocolate wasted to notice). It requires forethought and extra prep on my part, since my son is so allergic to eggs, but it's not overly complicated and one batch lasts me multiple sittings (maybe fewer if my husband notices...). On the topic of wine, a relaxing bubble bath pairs well with almost any type of wine. Well, almost... Remember, readers, ABV stands for "Alcohol Begets Vitality," so you definitely want a higher number. I recommend also using a bath bomb to really set the mood. Bath bombs are great; just throw it in the water and it does all the work for you, like a tiny, bubbly, cabana boy. Finally, let's not forget the little one. I spend so much time with him that I needed to figure out a way to incorporate "together time" with "me time." Mine actually takes great interest in my cooking and baking, so the solution was right there: he can help me in the kitchen. Ever since I started letting him participate in the meal preps, getting food ready has become infinitely easier. He has also become more receptive to my instructions (in the kitchen, at least) and behaves himself more if he knows he'll be holding a potato. Most importantly, I have an activity that he and I genuinely enjoy doing together. I know for some parents that rarely, if ever, happens and I am eternally grateful that I have been given the gift of a bonding activity with my son so early in his life. I could be offered all the homemade ice cream and the best bubble baths in the world, but I wouldn't give up cooking/baking time with my son. After all, at the end of the day, after all the headaches and gray hairs he has given, and will give, me, the one and only gift I ever wanted was to share one experience that is unique to us. I already have that and am looking forward to my next one. Now, pardon me while I gracefully chug this glass of Merlot and see what shenanigan Dwight gets into again. P.S. I got to try this wine out for the first time and boy let me tell you! It was awesome! Check it out at your local grocery store for your self care, too.
Hey y’all, my name is Tiffany and it’s so nice to meet you. Let me introduce you to the rest of my family. I have a beautiful boy named Antonio and of course my amazing husband Josh. You will see me talk about them a lot because they are a major part of my life. We do take a lot of adventures together so I hope you will enjoy all the mischief and fun we get into together.
Sometimes its easy to forget that before we were parents, we were people. This is my attempt to try and remember what that was like. Not just for me, but for people like you as well. Thank you for spending some time with us and Welcome to the family! |