Better Mornings

Tip #3 don't put mornings in a box- make them what you want

I wonder if these morning tips are making you all hate me. I mean, I literally enjoy early mornings where I give myself at least two hours to "get ready" before I have to leave the house. My desired waking times keep getting earlier and earlier because I just like it. Not that the moment of waking up is easy or even slightly enjoyable, but the content of my morning makes that initial jolt into consciousness more bearable. 

Now, when I hear someone rave about their runner's high and tell me how addicted they are to exercise? I scoff. I can't relate at all because the only forms of exercise I enjoy are when the exercise is a byproduct of another activity--for instance I love canoeing. Biking when it gets me somewhere. Hiking if it's in a place with a breathtaking view to reward the climb. Running around a playground with cute kiddos or playing hide and seek tag. But running? Just to run? Going to the gym to lift weights? "Leg day"!? I just don't think I will ever ever ever enjoy those things. So I think I can understand if you aren't into my morning philosophy. To each his own.

But, if you're even mildly intrigued by this love affair I have with mornings, I think this tip may suit you better than the more idealistic tips preceding it. Because when you don't have a hot breakfast, that doesn't mean you're not rocking at morning.

In fact, this tip is less how-to and more of a concept to be considered. Morning is what you make it. Unlike almost every other part of the day, for most of us, we have control over how our morning starts. We choose when to wake up (unless a small person wakes you on their clock, in which case, hey, you get to start even earlier with your awesome morning! [Please don't hate me.]) We choose how much time is allotted for grooming, eating, caffeination, mental stimulation, exercise, snuggle time, emails, gardening, etc. In that way, we can curate our mornings to become the best moments of our days. So instead of scraping yourself out of bed at the last minute and rushing straight into your day without a warm-up, why not carefully select how much time you want to spend and what you want to get out of that time? Do what YOU want. 

I change up my mornings a lot. While there is always coffee and breakfast, sometime I do a bunch of cleaning to start my day because I know I'll be too tired to want to clean when I get home from work. Sometimes I use my morning as a time to relax before a really busy day, so I indulge in a good novel or watch Netflix while little mister is still asleep. Sometimes all I prioritize for that morning is getting a nice long shower in, and I speed through the rest. There are also days when I want to have homemade scones for breakfast so I skip that shower and throw my hair in a bun, because

S C O N E S.

Morning's potential is too easy to ignore, why not make it bend to your will? And this breakfast/coffee junky won't judge if the thing you want to do to charge up for the day is drink a protein shake and do 400 push-ups. . .but that is a terrible choice. Please don't do that. 

Now if you've written a blog post about learning to love exercise and just saying no to donuts, send it my way. I won't hate you. I think I'll still take a bagel sandwich and freshly ground coffee over the gym, though. And donuts, if available.

Boyhood

I have been doing the mommy thing for almost 15 months now. My son has grown from a tiny 8 pound bundle all curled against my chest to a 23 pound wild boy who runs around our apartment in and out of every room yelling like Tarzan out of sheer boy instinct. He was not long ago just a tiny thing, so dependent, so vulnerable. And now, though still small and still needing me, he can do so much on his own and wants to do so much more. He wants to be big, I can see it in everything he does. He is on a quest to grow up. Already. Which is why I am completely ok with the phase he's in lately: mama-clinging. 

When we come home in the evenings, he attaches himself to me like a barnacle and if Daddy tries to interact with him or hold him or make eye contact, he cries and burrows deeper into my shoulder. He usually warms up to daddy eventually, but if he's tired or hungry, mama is the only one for him.

Roger is an outgoing little dude in general, but I'm so glad he's also the little joey to my kangaroo and wants to be near me all the time. He'll grow out of this, like he's grown out of waking every two hours at night, but I'll be a little sad when he does. It's not convenient to have a little Roger-fanny-pack while I'm trying to cook dinner or do the dishes, but it is a special time in our mother-son relationship and I know it will be over before I know it. So I choose to enjoy it. Soak it up. 

Boyhood is sweet energy. Rough and tender at once. He climbs everything, moves everything, and the fastest speed he can muster is the speed at which he does everything. . . then too often falls and gets hurt and is a puddle in my arms. The good Lord knew boys need mamas.

As a nanny, I get a bigger brood to nestle under my wings than the one little bird I call my own. These late summer days have been spent outside, trying to keep these little people safe while letting them explore and discover without my protective shadow lurking too closely at their heels. The almost-3-year-old is Roger's nearest playtime role model, and he gravitates toward the sandbox when we play outside. I've recently embraced the sandbox as a play area for Roger too, and he already loves it, even though he has no concept yet that sand in mouth/nose/eyes is really not fun. It's pretty adorable though when he tries to wipe sand out of his mouth by rubbing his tongue with his sand-encased fingers. I had to show him he can spit to get the sand out, and needless to say, spitting is a discovery my wild boy was all for. Gotta be sure I censor that new skill to appropriate situations.

The way they learn from their play is one of the things I find most fascinating and wondrous about childhood. They teach themselves about life, drawing from Creation and that deep knowledge of their souls. It's no wonder Jesus spoke so highly of the faith of children. They go on instinct. They humbly soak up what's around them and are always asking questions. Maybe questions we grown ups have forgotten are important; to which we have forgotten we don't know all the answers.

Dig, run, chase bugs, pick apples, find big stones, swing, slide, climb; simple, lovely stuff. Well worth the thorough bath needed after. I'm so glad I get to be mama bird and nanny in their adventurous little world.

Better Mornings

Tip #2

E A T breakfast. Preferably H O T and homemade. 

A crucial habit to almost anyone who wants to begin to rock their mornings is a real, hot, home-cooked B R E A K F A S T. I say "almost" anyone because some people are in comas. Or have night shifts at work and their morning is really their evening. But if you're not hospital bound with feeding tubes for sustenance, or completely out of sync with the sun in your internal circadian rhythm (in either case, not likely reading this blog and tying to become a morning person,) you should really consider adding a hot breakfast to your daily routine.

And by "hot breakfast" I really do mean a meal that has been cooked. At the risk of offending almost everyone in America, I'm going to make the bold statement that cold cereal does not count as "breakfast." At least not the kind that's going to have a real impact on the success of your morning. I'm no stranger to the tired mornings where my baby woke me too often from teething or illness, and being exhausted I just didn't get myself up in time to cook breakfast. I definitely have those days. But they aren't the norm anymore. I do everything possible to keep my mornings sacred because I know how much my morning sets the tone for my day. And those mornings where cereal is my only recourse for getting myself fed before work are mornings I do not count as Better Mornings. Those are Try Again Tomorrow mornings.

Hot breakfast everyday requires a little  planning, and a little bit of know-how. Can you cook an egg? Then you can have a hot breakfast. 

How do you like your eggs? I like them every which way, but my go-to is over-easy in a cast iron skillet generously coated with real butter. Eat them plain, eat them on toast, in a breakfast sandwich, with a pastry, in a breakfast burrito, on top of last night's dinner leftovers (especially if it's steak or stir-fry). Eggs have so many styles, all you need is a little effort. 

Don't or can't eat eggs? Oatmeal, baked sweet potato, pancakes, muffins, toast.... Any basic that you can cook well can be a fantastic breakfast with the right ingredients, prep, and effort. And the great thing about basics is that they can be varied any way you choose, so they don't have to become boring.

The key element in the hot breakfast: effort. The first thing you're doing to invest in your day is investing in your body. By cooking home made, simple food, you're more likely eating "real" food, which has real sustenance for your body and doesn't need to be "enriched with vitamins and minerals" in a factory, because God himself put vitamins and minerals in those eggs and veggies and fruits and whole grains. And I promise you, that whole-foods effort will feel different by mid morning than that cold cereal effort. My hot breakfasts get me straight through to lunch without needing to snack.

And this effort does require thought ahead of time. I have to make sure my fridge is stocked with eggs, avocados, fresh bread, fruits and veggies, plain yogurt, and good cheese before my work week begins so that I can easily put in 15 minutes of effort each morning to have a killer breakfast. Or I go with an even easier breakfast by making steel-cut oats the night before or fresh granola; add the fruit and yogurt, maybe some flax or chia seeds, we're good to go. (And "hot" is really more of a generalization for any breakfast that you make yourself from whole, real ingredients.)

Have you tried steel-cut oats with ripe peach, tangy yogurt, and a splash of maple syrup? This isn't the gloppy oatmeal that traumatized you as a kid. This is cereal the way it should be.

What I'm saying is, fall in love with breakfast. It will take effort, learning new skills and recipes, and planning ahead, but when you start your day with real breakfast... Wonderful things await you every time you wake.

//\\//\\

R E C I P E

*Your basic epic breakfast sandwich*

[to be varied at will, and often]

You'll need:

•Fresh bread, English muffin, or bagel, in two slices 

•1-2 eggs

•cheese, sliced

•avocado, sliced or mashed

•sea salt and fresh ground pepper

S T E P S

1. Toast bread slices

2. Fry eggs in a hot, greased skillet (takes about 2 min depending on desired doneness)

3. Place hot bread/bagel/muffin slices on your plate and start topping with cheese and avocado

4. Add eggs and and salt/pepper last

5. Put the sandwich parts together and slice down the middle (so that you can see all the delicious layers you're about to eat, and so that if your eggs are good and runny, the yolks distribute themselves over all that cheese and avocado goodness.

V A R I A T I O N S

• bagel, cream cheese, thick tomato slices, bacon, chives (good with or without the addition of eggs)

• English muffin, eggs, sharp cheddar, honey ham slices fried with the eggs

•toasted sourdough bread, mashed avocado, sprinkle of lemon rind, sea salt, and pepper, bean sprouts, runny egg on top (eat open-faced)

•bagel, scrambled eggs cooked with sautéed onions, spinach, and mushrooms, topped with Swiss

•bagel, sun dried tomatoes, scrambled eggs, provolone 

What is your favorite breakfast sandwich?

Better Mornings (a new series)

...how to become a morning person one groggy step at a time.

Tip #1: whatever fuels you best, make that your morning focus.

I thought about simply making tip number one "coffee." But as near and dear as coffee is to my heart, I know some people don't drink it or can't, and if the use of a strong stimulant like caffeine is the only way to become a morning person then mornings are an unruly beast nobody should have to face. But I know from experience that caffeine is not necessary in the equation. Does it help? Oooh, yes. But the reason why is the same principle that can be followed without the joe: 

Whatever gives you energy needs to be the highlight of your waking routine. 

Maybe it's breakfast (which will definitely get a post of it's own in this series) or maybe it's time to be quiet and think or pray. Maybe it's an allotted 22 minutes to watch your favorite sitcom on netflix before you have to pull yourself together to face the world. Maybe it's Scripture, a walk, journaling, or some of all three. The point is, when you have purpose for your morning that is more than just scraping yourself together to be presentable for your coming day, you will start looking forward to the morning like never before. 

For me, I make sure I have time for this little trifecta of Libby-fueling: coffee, a hot breakfast, and 20-30 minutes of a pursuit that is just for me. Often that will be 30 minutes of writing or reading. Sometimes photography (iPhone-4 style because that's how I roll.) Sometimes that will be my time in Scripture. It varies, but it is always a time where I allow myself to do something just for me. When you're taking care of little ones all day, you don't get much me-time. So if I can look forward to that time in my morning, I am already running on that emotional steam before my day really starts. 

Here's the tricky part: timing is key. Which means planning is key. 

This is how I became a morning person—once I realized I needed this coffee/hot-breakfast/Me-time routine I knew I would have to conquer my snooze-button to achieve it. Or rather, my snooze habit. I haven't figured out how to reprogram my brain NOT to hit snooze at least twice per alarm, but I now set my alarm indecently early so that by the time I'm into my second or third snooze, I have three or four microbursts of alarms set at 1-minute intervals that break into the snooze-induced-quiet and tell my brain, "Hey, this alarm is for realz." Kind of a harsh awakening compared to the gentleness of the preceding snoozes. But it does the trick and gets me out of bed in time to make that lemony avocado toast (when I'm mailing it in) or shakshuka with chevré and fresh herbs (when I'm extra ambitious.) 

Now for the parents reading this and shaking your head at the seeming naïveté of my advice. I have a 14-month-old. I know how early these days can begin. Part of my success with mornings comes from the sacrifice of late-nights. I'm in bed around 9:30 most nights. The sleep certainly helps. 

But a big part of my success is strategy with my bebé: I have an even more indecent alarm (set to 4am... sounds awesome, right!?) that is the alarm to give my baby his morning feeding while we are both still basically asleep. It helps that we can nurse in my bed and it's easy to sleep through the feeding and just plop him back in his crib and carry on with my last bit of sleep when he's done. That alarm prevents him from waking up starving at 6, which is right in the middle of my morning routine. Will I have to adjust this routine eventually when he's weaned and out of a crib and prone to trouble-making when I'm not watching, and able to open the fridge? Oh sure, but then I'm a parent, and we are experts at improv. Even if a cartoon on Netflix is how I rein him in, if it gives me a morning, then welcome to our living room, Daniel Tiger. Want some eggs?

weekend || pics from my week

Weekends are a wild card. I have only the illusion of control. I make plans, I write lists (the kind of which I get OH, so much satisfaction checking off) and I try to relax a bit too. 

(If you're wondering about Stooge, that's our minivan's affectionate nickname. It makes sense if you know the story.)

Roger both interferes with and ensures my weekend goals-- I can always relax with him because he's such a mama's boy, cuddle-party all the time. But if he's not socially stimulated (extrovert much?), he follows me like a duckling and doesn't let me get too far in many of my productive goals. Like organizing the fridge and meal planning: if he sees the fridge open he gets this mad glaze over his eyes and starts panting like an overexcited puppy and grabbing every condiment jar out of the door. It's always opened and closed as quickly as possible when he's around. I am on edge because one of these times that door will open and he will get his opportunistic hands on something breakable and/or spill-able and I will get to clean it up. Ah, the joys of mothering a toddler.

So far the first half of the weekend has been full of cleaning, laundry, and helping wrap up a multi-family garage sale at my nanny family's house. I just made a necessary afternoon pot of coffee and will hopefully make progress with my task list. I'm blogging, so that's something to check off. ✔

But anyway.... Yeah, weekends make me wonder if my domestic life would crumble to hoarder-levels of chaos if I didn't work fulltime. My workweek has structure that forces me to get stuff done. My weekends? Well... I spent a very generous portion of my afternoon napping/lying around with Roger in my bed and doing nothing productive at all. Except that relaxing thing. I guess I've got that covered.

The rest of the weekend? Tonight Dave has a jazz gig and then plans to F I N A L L Y finish painting the house. Church tomorrow. Thai cabbage dumplings for dinner. Probably more netflix than I'd like to admit. 

Images from select moments in my week. My long, happy, muggy, domestic, boring, exhausting, awesome week of epic breakfast sandwiches, late-night ice cream runs, my hands and lap full of the best kids in the world, heavily-filtered nap selfies, flowers in bloom, sunrises, and the cutest boy I know.

Lately

I have started so many blog posts over the past several weeks that were intended to be posted but then never got finished until their content was completely outdated. Maybe I need to stop writing so time-specifically. All my future posts will now read like: "Roger learned to walk. Now he's running and playing little league. His girlfriend is really sweet we hope this one sticks." Haha that's how long it feels between posts sometimes. My few loyal readers will have to agree. 

Speaking of my little guy... Roger turned 1 on May 30 and was celebrated cutely with a Charlie Brown themed birthday party, generously hosted at the home of my nanny fam. Dave made a replica psych booth like Lucy's and photographic cuteness ensued. Was that two months ago already!?

As an official toddler, Roger is now walking quite adeptly and very close to running. He is climbing everything in his reach. Watching Daniel Tiger in the mornings while I get ready for work. Walking around with his blankie wrapped around his head like Linus. Climbing his rummage-sale kiddie slide and laughing proudly as he slides down over and over. Grasping language and following simple directions (when he feels like it.) And hiding his toys in random places: when I asked him where his hotwheels truck was the other day, he walked into the kitchen and retrieved it from inside a box of ziplock bags, as if of course we store hotwheels cars in ziplock bag boxes. I love that it wasn't lost—he knew exactly where he had stowed it. Very unlike his father in that regard.

Speaking of his father... David has transitioned at church from Youth Pastor (full-time), to Connections Pastor (part-time), which is a fantastic fit for his personality. He wore the youth pastor hat well but it never felt like his unique calling, and so this transition (with the amazing support and encouragement of our pastor and church community) has been really smooth. The part-time factor has meant he needed a "tent-making" gig, and so he has been painting houses for a local company for the summer. Prayer for the next opportunity in this non-ministry employment adventure is greatly appreciated. Painting ends in the fall so he's going to need another gig by then. God is a faithful provider; we are not worried about how he will keep feeding and clothing us. Still, prayers can't hurt.

Speaking of clothing... I have been on a fantastic thrift kick lately. Thrifting in a small-ish town is challenging (at least compared to my old stomping grounds of Minneapolis) because there will be waves of new merchandise flowing into the donation bins... and then seemingly unending thrift-droughts where every time you hit the Goodwill you waste an hour scavenging among the same raggedy duds that have been there for months. It's been the former lately—plenty of gold hidden in the racks. I've been able to find all I've needed for summer attire at two local Goodwills... and maybe a clearance Target find here and there. Thrifting in the past month has landed me four pairs of shorts, two of which started as "mom jeans" and I slashed into cut-offs DIY style, and the other two being specific styles (a pair of white chinos and a pair of tribal printed shorts) I had only expected to find at the end of summer in some picked-over clearance rack and two sizes too big. But amazingly there they were in exactly my size and $4 bucks a pop. Never underestimate the bounty of the thrift. I'm very serious.

Speaking of... unrelated segues. My inner Anne Shirley is finding her way to the surface a lot lately— I've been deeply enjoying the flora of my South Dakota summer. Residential landscape flora, mainly, but hey, a flower is a flower. It helps that our next-door neighbor has planted cone flowers and black-eyed susans and lilies and roses all over her yard and on the patch of yard between the sidewalk and the street; like a little garden path, and Roger and I like to walk through it and admire the bobbing bumble bees together. I keep hoping I'll run into the neighbor who lives there, and I finally did this morning. I think she is a kindred spirit. She raises chickens in the backyard and I'm going back this afternoon to purchase some eggs from her. Yep, kindred spirit.

Today is Saturday and that means plenty of chores at home, but also fun. Roger and I have already been to my favorite coffee and bread shops (Coffea and Breadico), the library, the farmers market (the little one that nobody seems to know about but has way better prices), and stopped a few blocks from home to say hi to friends who just moved into our neighborhood. Yay for friends who are within walking distance and have kids my kid can play with! I brought them a loaf of golden raisin and herb bread from Breadico in downtown Sioux Falls-- if they didn't like me before, they like me now. We'll soon be BFFs. Bread friends forever. 

Now Roger is napping from his busy morning out and about and I'm hoping to knock some big To-Dos off my list. Here's hoping your weekend is restful and fun- stop back sometime.