It takes all kinds.

It's one of those days... This big, nagging urge to purge my thoughts just hit me like mad while making beds.  After an early morning (5:30 am to be exact) with my 4 year old, and a little morning sickness from baby #2 to boot, I have been in mental overload.  AND. I. MEAN...... OVERLOAD.  Everything that can possibly shift from thought to emotion has soooooo gone there.  Something that's been bothering me for a while now, just hit me, and I felt the need to write/type/whatever I could get my hands on quickest.

While recapping our fun-filled weekend, adding 2 + 2 and 3 + 4, and what day comes after Monday, I was finally in the midst of a few minutes of silence to start a load of laundry and make beds.  While doing the mundane things that stay-at-home-mommies do, with a smile on my face, I remembered something that set me off a week or so ago.  I haven't been able to let it go.  It plagues me daily.

Working moms.

Working moms and the glory they receive (and yes, the glory is due... I have much respect for working mothers).  However, sometimes the snippy comments hurt and leave us "other" mothers feeling defeated.  Almost all of my friends are working moms.  I love them a lot.  I give them virtual high fives and constantly tell them that I don't know how they do it, and "oh man, you are a strong woman to work all day and come home and tend to your children before bed".  The working mom is an inspiration to me.  A true inspiration.  But, sometimes the working mom makes me feel guilty.  Little comments here and there.  Little looks I receive when they ask me what I do for a living.  There's also that way they make me feel when they say, when will you go back to work and contribute to your home?  That was the most recent comment, and the most hurtful.

There seems to be much less glory given to the mothers who choose to be home with their children.  I know this may be a sore subject for some (believe me, it's a sore subject for me), but I feel like I have to talk about it now, or I will explode.  Everything mainstream that I see is directed towards working mothers.  It's fine.  That's what our world is now.  Most people have to have two income families to make it through.  Some mothers are even doing it all by themselves, and THOSE women are true superheroes in my book.  But, for the families (like mine) that could use two incomes, and instead sacrifice one of those because we feel it's important for me to be home, we are increasingly becoming outcasts.  AND IT SUCKS.

You've heard me rant before about being "just a mom".  I hate that.  I hate that I have even said it before.  I hate that people find no glorification in being a full-time wife and mother anymore.  So, writing about it may help me and help you understand how I feel.

Every day, I wake up responsible for a full, entire day of entertaining, teaching and growing my child mentally.  There is also the physical aspect I am responsible for:  hugs and kisses for every achievement and/or boo boo.  Meals and clothes and clean bathroom breaks.  Constant communication with a little person who is depending on me 24 hours a day.  7 days a week.  All. day. long.  There are no "sick days".  There are no "personal days".  There is also very little family here (one family member to be exact) that can lend a helping hand when needed.  This is my life as a stay-at-home mom. During the constant teaching, growing, entertaining, feeding, kissing, hugging, meals, clothes and bathroom breaks, I am also planning the rest of our lives.  Paying bills, cleaning up after animals, cooking breakfast and lunch and prepping dinner.  I am usually a personal secretary for my husband, running errands all over town..... with help from my little sidekick, of course!  No breaks here.  On the days she has soccer and dance, my duties don't slow down.  Still no breaks.  Still no "me" time.  I do the daily duties, and then I carry her to whatever activity she's participating in that day.  It's my job.  I'm "just a mom".  And I love every single second of it!  There isn't one thing about it that I would trade.

But, why is it wrong?  Being "just a mom" isn't enough.  You must also leave your kid for 8 hours a day and make money in order to really count.  Or at least that's how so many have made me feel.  So, here's my point, and I want it to stick.  Please understand:

Mothers are amazing, beautiful, warrior creatures who used their bodies to bring little humans into the world!  In this way, we are all the same.  We know a love with our children that can't be matched.  But, it takes all kinds, and that doesn't mean the different kinds should be discriminated against.  We should appreciate each other.  Stick together.  We need working moms, we need part-time moms, and we need full-time, stay-at-home moms to make this world go 'round!  Women fought far too long to be able to work like they do, alongside men, to just give it up.  Keep on doing what you do!  I applaud the working mother.  I applaud the amount of energy it takes to make it through your work week.  I applaud your ability to handle missing your child while you conquer the world.  You are an inspiration to me!  But, just because women fought long and hard to work beside men doesn't mean that all of us have a place there, or even want it.  Some of us are needed right here at home.  It doesn't make us weird or wrong.  It makes us moms......just like you.

I want to be viewed in the same manner as you.  I'd love for you to see that I, too, can conquer the world from inside these walls.  I can make a difference outside these walls mingling through town, spending time with other children or other families.  I make a difference by teaching my child to love without exceptions.  I, too, can conquer the world.  I am not "just a mom".  I am so much more.

Females struggle to respect each other sometimes.  But, as we learn to respect each other as women, and not just the roles or titles we have as moms, we should see a shift in our abilities to unite.  We're all going to be different, so there's no need for comparison.  All of us do different things in our family units.  Support more.  Criticize less.  Respect each other as co-mommies.  We all bring different things to this vast mommy world.  It takes all kinds, and I truly believe we should embrace all kinds...............


Loving all of the kinds,

Candle

Fight to release. Fight to regain.

Lately, I've really been trying to let go of my need for control.  Yes, I suffer from it too.  If you are one of the few who have mastered being "ok" with life as it comes, I envy you.  I do.  Control may be my biggest battle with myself.  I fight to let go, and then I find myself fighting to hang on.  When I find I'm having a great day with it, something huge happens to remind me that I am not in control anyway, and need to somehow try and regain it.  The more I try to release, the harder life tries to tell me to hang on.  Anyone else understand this?

Truth is, this desire to control is formed so early in life, I believe it almost becomes an inherent need for us.  Like it's just normal.  We can only control how we feel, respond, and act.  We can only control what goes on inside of us.  But somewhere along the way, we have decided we can also take on the task of controlling everything around us.  What an exhausting ride!

I find myself being overprotective of my husband.  He has this relaxed thing down to an art.  I sometimes get frustrated with him because he doesn't respond with the same "I'll fix this situation right this second!" attitude that I tend to carry.  He is chill.  He is calm.  He is collected.  He is my balance.  But, I'll be damned if I am not constantly trying to make him a fighter too.  If someone wrongs him, I come out swinging.  He lets it roll off his back.  I fight harder.  He lets go even more.  I WANT TO BE THIS!  I ENVY THIS!

My fear is that I will rub off on Annabelle.  I'm starting to notice some similarities.  Not because I try to control her, because really, I try hard to let her find her own way.  I'm pretty adamant about her becoming her own person.  (Ironically, while I want her to be her own person, I am rubbing off on her through her little eyes and ears.  She is picking up on this stuff.  She is constantly witnessing my life full of fight or flight responses.)  Her usual nature is loving, happy, laid back, adventurous.  Lately, I have noticed a sense of nervousness and control creeping in.  I know she has been watching me.  If anything will help me release this need to control, it will be the desire to NOT rub off on her.  BECAUSE the truth is, life is not ALL fight or flight!  It's just not.  Sometimes it's really easy and I  complicate the hell right out of it!  Sometimes, when everyone else is rolling with the punches, I should just grab on and roll right with them, instead of trying to protect and control.

My goal for these summer months is to allow myself true release in all situations.  I will take advantage of the warmth of nature.  Anytime something is ailing me in any way, I will lose myself in nature for a bit and remember this world is MUCH bigger than any amount of control I can offer it.  It's a work in progress, but I am determined to be a better me, a better wife and most importantly, a better mother.

Thank you to my husband for being my balance, my rock, my funny guy and my best friend.  Thank you to my little girl for keeping me on my toes, showing me simplicity, sharing your compassionate nature, and teaching me to love deeper than I ever knew I could.  You both inspire me to change patterns, to be myself, and to live freely... BUT mostly, you inspire me to begin this journey again, every single day.  Those are some huge gifts you give me.  I LOVE YOU.

Restoring compassion

My daughter rushed to me about 5 am this morning and just wanted to be near me.  After a few minutes, for no apparent reason, she began to cry.  She usually says she's had a bad dream, or that she needs water, but not this morning.  She just cried (soft little, quiet tears), and so i held her and assured her that if she was sad about something, then it's ok to let it out, and she could tell me.  Of course, my brain is racing, wondering what could possibly be making her sad?  She is usually so very bubbly and happy.  I held back my own tears and just listened to her quietly cry, as she squeezed my hand and fell back to sleep.  


Last night, I had to explain to my sweet baby that one of her best friend's and his family are very sad right now.  After hanging up from a phone call I received from his mom, she asked, "mommy, why are you sad?"  It's difficult to explain to a three year old that you're crying someone else's tears.  But, I came up with the best I could.  I explained that they are having to say goodbye to a special person in their family and that goodbyes are not easy.  And that all we can do is just be there, and smile for them, or cry with them.  Whatever we feel coming out of our hearts, and whatever makes them feel not alone.  I explained that there was sometimes not much we can do except love our friends.  We cried out for his family, said a prayer for them, and went to bed.  So, my only guess is that her crying this morning came from her empathetic soul.  I believe it wholeheartedly.

As she's still peacefully sleeping, I feel compelled to write about empathy.  I believe the best we can hope for in our kids is compassion.  It's imperative to help our children embrace these emotions at a young age, and not stifle it in any way.  Let it grow and flow..... and maybe, just maybe, if our children are told that it's ok to be compassionate and warmhearted, then the coldness that runs rampant through this world will fade with coming generations.  It's ok to hurt for others.  It's what makes us real and keeps our blood warm.  A sense of bonding and belonging between us all.  We need this for HUMANITY.  NOW more than EVER.

This morning I got the heart breaking call from my friend, and my heart sunk lower for her family.  I wanted to go give the big squeeze I knew she needed, but she probably didn't want right now.  I wanted to run to them and help and do and be... all of these things I wanted to do, but all she really needed was to just know that I wanted to.  And to know that I'm broken for her today.  No matter how much I could be doing for them, or how many flowers I could send or cards I could write... no matter how many words I could say, none of it matters, if it isn't driven by empathy, love and compassion.

So, my prayer/promise today is that I never muffle my daughter's compassionate side.  I hope that she can witness my tears for others and know that it is an uplifting and beautiful experience to just FEEL so much for someone else!  I hope she can witness my joy for others in the same light, and know that those emotions are what make us human.  Those emotions are what connect us.

To laugh with others in joy, and to cry with those in pain, may be the most beautiful expression of love we can offer.

Hug your babies, y'all.

Loving all of you, with all of me.
Candle

The Paxil made me fat

Fat: not really what I was.  I guess.  But, definitely how I felt.  I wasn't overweight (because really i fell right into the weight for my height), I was more like bloated.  ALL. OF. THE. TIME.  It was more of the way the weight sat on my body.  Especially after having a baby.  Especially after turning the big THREE-ZERO.

I am going to give a whole entire week of blog entries to this damned drug, once it is completely out of my system.  But, for now, I would love to rant about the fat.

I work out.  I stay in shape.  My family switched to a completely organic lifestyle about a year ago, after slowly progressing that way for years.  I've been doing everything right.  I even cut out the glass of wine that was always waiting for me at night, after a tough day.  The "poofiness" I was feeling in my body, must have just been "my fate".  GRRRRRRR.  I don't want to live with the poof.  What am I going to do?  I cut out wheat, gluten, and all of the foods that caused sensitivities in my tummy.  Still no help with that poof.

SO... WHAT. THE. HELL?

I'll tell you what...  I was taking a medication that I never researched.  Did you know that one of the side effects of Paxil is weight gain.  And by weight gain, I guess they really mean, "STICKY, YUCKY WEIGHT THAT WILL CLING TO YOUR BODY AND CAN'T BE SCRAPED OFF WITH A SCALPEL" weight gain.  Yep, that must be what they mean!

I have been coming off of this medication for a while now.  But, here recently I sped up the process and started really focusing on getting it out of my body and being done.  That meant cutting way back to almost nothingness.  Now, the medication is practically finished ruining me.  Usually I don't use a scale.  It just depresses me.  I can be in the best shape and look damn good, but because I have such dense muscle in my gluts, hamstrings, hips and thighs, I'm obviously going to weight more.  If I get a number that is higher than I expect, instead of blaming it on muscle, I immediately blame it on this disgusting poof.  I get depressed when I see an actual number.  So, I just stay away.  Well, I have been feeling a change in my waist.  Certain pants are loose again.  I decided to weigh in recently and noticed I had randomly dropped 5 pounds.  Nothing at all has changed in my struggle.  Still work out the same.  Still eat and drink the same.  Everything is THE SAME.  Except now, I'm not drugging my body every day.
DUH!  Could it be?

I finally took a look at the side effects of the drug I began taking 2 years ago.  And lo and behold.......... it isn't it bold print, (because God forbid they put any side effect in BOLD print) but it is listed.  After talking with others who've taken it, it only confirmed my suspicions, as they all had struggled with weight gain as well.

Still not completely weened, and I have already lost 8 pounds.  AND I mean 8 pounds of poof.  Wow.  I haven't even been working out like usual either, because I've been so weak from the withdrawal symptoms.  So, I'm curious to see just how much the scale changes once this mess has left my system forever.

HEED THE WARNING Y'ALL:  please thoroughly research everything you put in your ONE, PRECIOUS body.

As winter rolls out...

I woke up to a beautiful morning!  It's extremely windy, but sunny, and I can see Spring slowly rolling in... as I ponder the reasons we often rush every season, I can't help but whisper "slow down... "take it all in... for this season is full of things you'll never have again."

For as winter rolls out and Spring comes in, we build nostalgia for moments we'll often look back on with a smile.  No reason to rush those moments.  And even more of a reason to breathe them in!

The wind is symbolic today.  Really blistering cold when the wind hits my face.  It feels it may be that last little trail of winter leaving us.  It's winter's one, last frozen reminder that it's leaving us, and will leave us with a bang.  It's the end of March, some flowers have begun to bloom, the trees are sprouting tiny leaves, and the birds wake me with their beautiful melodies each morning.  Oh, how I've longed for this.  I've waited for Spring and the feeling of rebirth.

But today, just for today, I will embrace this last bit of winter, these last bit of chilly memories, the crispness in the air, the frost on the ground, and the smell of a roaring chimney two houses down.   Just for one more day...

Happy Monday.

Love you and your memories,
Candle

Not so soccer mom

I absolutely could not wait for my daughter to be three!  Not because I wanted her to grow up any faster, but because of all of the fun things she could participate in!  This is the age where she can start most recreational sports and activities in our town.  Dance, tee-ball, soccer, etc.  I was elated to get her signed up for soccer because she has so much energy and I knew she would benefit from such an endurance based sport.  It was all for fun.  We started in the fall, and she spent most of the season warming up to the idea of being on a team.  We didn't have too many successful days on the field in the fall of 2012, but we went, she played with her friends, ran around during games, and practiced with the other boys.  Yes, boys.  She was THE only girl on her team.  That part was also a little hard to get used to.

Fast forward to Spring 2013.  We sign her up again.  Now, she is this social butterfly, sweet and tenderhearted, and loves the other children.  Sometimes she gets a little off focus on the field (which really, what three year old doesn't, at some point?).  While everyone else is chasing the ball, you can find her running with the pack, up close to the ball, or sometimes you can find her running along staring at the sky and smiling.  She really is such a beautiful little soul.  This is something I never want to break her of.  Soccer is supposed to be for fun.  Soccer is supposed to help her learn to play on a team, discover athletic skills, get her some nice play time and vitamin d; but, most importantly, it should boost her self-esteem and confidence.  We cheer her on and encourage her to go after the ball, but let's face it... she is three years old.  All of the children she plays with are only three and four years old.  Thus, making this a hilarious, enjoyable, nice, hour long show :)  We get such a kick out of watching these little kids be KIDS. 

And sooooooo, here comes my frustration:

As I sit through the first practice of the season last week, my husband by my side, (this part was nice because the first season I sat completely alone, as he was out of town working all week, every week) I start to notice some pretty disturbing things from the neighboring team.  

***Let me give you a little background info on soccer at the YMCA.  Anyone with children ages three and up can sign up their children.  I think the ages go up to ten years old.  But, for the younger children (like mine) they are there to learn to play.  Basic team skills.  Basic soccer.  Basic three and four year old fun.  During practices, two teams practice on one field, each using one half of the field to practice.  From what I noticed in the fall season, the teams seemed pretty evenly matched, and most parents seemed to be doing this together, for the first time.  The teams are supposed to have anywhere from 6-8 players and they are all supposed to be decently, fairly matched.  Well, from what I'm seeing in Spring 2013, this is far from the case.***

Back to our neighboring team.........

So, I'm sitting with my husband at practice number one, first day.  He looks at me and asks, "Honey, I thought you said our team had 8 players"?  Well, of course our roster said we did.  I will look into who is missing and what is going on here.  Right about that time, I notice that the team next to us had 10 kids.  TEN KIDS Y'ALL!  That's a whole lot of three and four year old craziness.  But, ok.  More power to ya coach.  Problem is, one of those kids had been taken from our team and put on theirs because the parents got torn up over the PERFECT team.  Yes, we found this out due to eaves dropping as well.  We were missing a kid because they took him.  Now we barely have enough children to make a team, and they have TEN.  This was the first of many harsh realizations we had to endure that night.  

Next, was having to sit and listen to the moms on the other team talk about their children and how each of their children knew each other and only played together in this one little special group.  One lady talked about what her gender preference was for child number 2 (she was pregnant) and how she already had this child's life laid out as well.  The other mother is talking about how they can all get their children enrolled in the same classes at the local private preschool.  The men are standing back, on their cell phones, conducting business, or just avoiding their fatherly/husband duties, whilst the wives are chatting about life in suburbia and their kids are being trained/drilled by a man who seems to think he coaches college ball.  It was disgusting.  My husband would lean over and ask, "Are you catching all of this"?  Sadly, I was.  The mothers of the "robot" kids kept shooting our team "the look", as if we were some sort of misfit parents and we weren't cool enough to be TRUE soccer moms and dads.  Truly pitiful.  Their children ran intense drills with little to no fun, or room for error.  You could see that they knew the coach outside of practice and all of the children knew each other as well.  (Remember, these teams are supposed to be picked randomly to offer fairness on the field).  

This may all seem trivial, and why the hell are you writing a blog about some silly kids soccer?  Who cares?  It's just kids and parents and this stuff is normal.  So what.  Quit your bitching.  

-TRUST ME, I HAVE A POINT.  I AM GETTING TO IT-

Finally, after practice we hear the coach of these tiny kids saying to the parents, "Yeah, i have a super stacked team this season.  Ya know, everyone requested me as coach and so, my team is huge and we couldn't even put anyone else on it, but I have THE stacked team."

*Ok, I have a competitive streak.  But, that came with age.  Growth.  Responsibility.  I do not care if my child wins or loses one single game at three years old.  We have a coach out there who talks about having a "stacked team".  Of three and four year olds?!?  Dude, are you serious?  Do you hear what you said?  While you're running these drills down these children's throats during practice, you are creating little competitive, robot, bullies.*

Next practice, that team moved.  All the way to the other end of the practice fields.  And they were given a special, whole big field all to themselves.  They have special goals, and they also get the whole field.  The moms and dads have lobbied to take even more children to stack the already ten player team they've built, but haven't succeeded.  

Here's my RANT.  My moral to this lengthy story:

In my honest opinion (which I'm sure is going to piss someone off), THESE parents are everything that is wrong with our children.  You get pregnant.  You pop them out.  You mold them to be these little people with YOUR personalities.  Once they hit a certain age, you quit worrying they will develop as they need to, and realize you have succeeded in your robot mold.  You can sit through practice, chatting with the other desperate housewives, while not paying one ounce of attention to the field, your child, or the coach.  You have molded a perfect little world.  A perfect little society of your favorite soccer mommies and kids. 

Now, don't get me wrong, I love the other moms on my kid's team.  And we chat and laugh and they are really nice people to be around.  And yes, two of them were previous friends.  But, I met all of the rest of them through the program.  We went potluck with our choices and got lucky.  We won't try to lobby for some super, mega team.  We don't sit around talking about our little "society" while practice is taking place.  We bs about the kids. How adorable they are and how far they've come.  Every now and then, something else will seep up in our convos, but we don't dwell on those topics.  We get too distracted by our purpose for being there... ya know... the kids?  Our kids!?

Here's what I'm asking... 

is life really this political?  Does it really begin this early?  Are parents really pushing children to make little societies at the ages of three and four?  

Because I promise you, these children are learning from their parents' decisions.  

"You can only play with these types of kids.  You can only go to school at these schools and we only want you in this teacher's class and on this coaches team.  And you have to look like all of the other little kids you play with."  

The cliques!  Y'all, we complain about bullies and cliques and teenagers all day long; but, we are often the reason it begins... and it begins at this age!  This young age!  

These little kids are watching their mothers sit, and judge, and push an image of perfection.  They are watching their parents use coercion and power to get what they want.  They are learning ENTITLEMENT.  These kids have nothing else to go on, other than what their parents are showing them.  Hell, they can't even get an outside source of influence, because the coach is in the circle, along with the teacher, the preacher, and their friends' parents.  It's this pattern.  This pattern makes me scared for those children, and mine.  

This epiphany has sickened me.  I have been dying to write about it since it took place last week, but I have remained hesitant until today.  I'm writing, mostly as a reminder to myself.  A reminder to let my child be a human being.  Children are smart.  They need our love and guidance, but not our force.  If I find myself in a mess where I am ever trying to mold my daughter (or future children) into some little image I have preconceived, I hope someone will sit me down and smack me in the face.  

Let's please be more aware of the influence we have in the lives of our babies.  Let's make the effort to make them lovers, not haters.  I urge you to try and keep your negative opinions of other parents and their children to yourselves.  Every time we judge anyone else in front of our kids, we are adding a piece of OUR prejudices to their little, developing minds.  Let's try together.  Let's really really try. 

With lots and lots of big love, 

Candle

  

The monster is stirring.

So, I actually have a whole load of things I have to be doing today.  But, I keep feeling like I'm going to cry.  Then, I remembered, I have been quieting the beast for over a week now.  If I don't write, I begin to feel sick with sadness.  I have so many emotions running through my system at this moment.  I can't shake the feeling that I am just not doing enough.  The "fear" kind of took over me again.  I quit stepping forward with my plans for the forum.  I need motivation.  I started worrying (once again) about the approval of others and took a giant step back.  Is this battle ever going to get easier?  I mean forget one step forward two steps back.  We're talking a half of a step forward and a giant leap backwards.

Tears are welling up.  Here goes... I'm on the search for something.

And there it was... Looking for inspiration and I find this quote:
"A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity." -Franz Kafka


I'm not one for public speeches.  I don't have the best advice on etiquette or charm or how to be the perfect housewife.  I don't organize events or have too much involvement with my immediate community.  I'm not extremely creative, nor am I an artist with a brush and paints and a beautiful imagination breathing life onto a page.  I don't have a special room where I can go and be alone with my canvas.  What I do have, is an ability to write.  And a pink journal.  And a pen.
This gift: this journal and pen and head full of mess, releases everything captive in my soul.  Once it's on paper, I feel free.

My only problem here is that I'm still scared to even share this stuff with anyone.  What if they don't like me?  I've already re-started my blog so many times, OUT OF PURE FEAR.  What if they laugh at me or critique who I am?  I'm not sure if I can add anymore "let downs" to my list.  So, as I sit here crying, writing, releasing, worrying... I've regained some motivation.  And honestly, I'm just deciding to get back on my quest and say screw it, and what everyone else thinks.  Instead of struggling between the peaceful person within my soul and the cynical thinker who sometimes doesn't hold back, I'm going to strive to use them together.  And, if you truly understand me, you will take both of these sides and know that they are what make me beautiful!  You will see both sides in my writing.  You'll see it in the topics that are important in my life.  You'll see it in my quirky sense of humor.  Please just know that whatever comes out in my writing, is always true to my soul, and the only way I can tame the monster when insanity is near...

my sun, my moon, and all my stars...

This angel girl has made being a mom so incredibly easy.  Even the difficult days are easy because she is a gift of a different kind.  She has the kindest, sweetest, most sensitive heart.  Her imagination has no bounds.  She is as fierce as a firecracker, and demands attention.  But, she gives it too.  She is going to do something amazing one day.  I feel it.  She has already touched so many.  What an amazing blessing of sweet little pitter patter, the day she entered our lives.  We are all better for your presence here on earth, my sweet Annabelle.  I love you to the moon and back.  You are my sunshine...

But I can't go back. And I don't want to...

I may be the most emotionally, insane mom in the world.  I've always been a bit to handle when it comes to dramatic emotions; but, as I sit here tonight, crying, it seems I've reached a new level.  It started with some writing.  Then some snuggling with my little girl.  Then a chat with my mama, which prompted an enormous flood of tears.  I realized I'm crying out this overwhelming burden I'm feeling.  I couldn't put my finger on it and I'm still not sure if I can.  After explaining how I'm feeling to my mom, I realized I'm changing.  I'm heading to a different place in my life.  I'm heading to this place where I won't be satisfied until I have done something.  I'm being called to feel.  But, feel what?  Why am I so in tune lately?  What am I missing?

I'm crying for humanity.  I'm crying for the people I can't reach.  I'm crying for all of the world that is missing the boat.  Missing compassion, kindness and strength.  I'm crying for the mother who doesn't get to kiss her baby goodnight anymore.  And for the father who doesn't spend enough time at home.  I'm crying for the little boy, Tripp, in Georgia that was nearly killed by a falling tree branch and has been fighting for his life for months.  I'm crying for kids in other countries who watch their siblings/mothers/fathers being blown away by bombs.  I cry for the moms I've met who want so desperately to fix their babies.  They want to reverse the man-made damage done to their children for profit.

I cry for the people I've hurt and the ones who have hurt me.  I cry for our world leaders.  I do.  I know it must be an empty, sad place when they lie down their heads at night.  I cry for the misfits; but, I also cry for the conformists... I cry for every person in my brain.  I cry for my family.  For my friends.  I cry for all of you.  I cry because we have become so complacent.  We have forgotten how magical we are.  We forget that we all belong together.  We were never meant to be at war with one each other.  I think our wars are fought within, and we should seek each other to help sort those battles.  How much more beauty would there be if we sought each other for growth?

So, maybe I really am just crying for everyone?  But why?  And why now, here lately?


The only thing I have been able to come up with, is that I am entering into a different state of awareness.  A different path of consciousness, so to speak.  I believe some call it, a "spiritual awakening".  No, I don't believe I have any crazy powers and I don't believe I am anything special in the whole grand scheme of things.  All I am meaning is that I feel life on a level much differently than I used to.  And, it is very spiritual.  I have always been an empathetic person, but that sense has grown dramatically.  I feel things differently than I ever have, and I'm thankful.  The tears are cleansing.  The passion for humanity makes me feel alive.  I'm okay with this change.  I am inviting it.  I believe my life has been a whirlwind up until my 30th birthday, and I think it has finally found it's slowing down point.  This is a place where I might finally find myself.  At this rate, I am hoping to find myself among all of you.  If I'm feeling this much pain, grief, happiness, fear, etc. then I hope it's all for something.  Although, these emotions can be confusing and extremely overwhelming, I would never want to go back.  And, I honestly don't think you can ever go back once you're here...

It's not what you think it is.

I figured the best way to kick off my vast array of topics is with a good old health discussion.

I have become increasingly aware of my body since turning thirty.  Some wicked changes have taken place in my body, mind and energy levels; and, it seemed as if they sprung immediately into existence the day after my thirtieth.  Obviously, I know the changes didn't happen this drastically, but for the dramatic person I am, it sure felt like the clock struck and BOOM - kicked my new, OLD feeling self into existence.

We have really been working on becoming fully organic, gluten free, and a non-processed foods household for a long time.  And, let me just say, it does take a long time to make this switch happen and actually have everyone on board.  It's almost March 2013, and it is finally sticking!  It has been a long time coming, but we are fully embracing a REAL food lifestyle change.  We introduced raw milk a few weeks ago, and are already seeing some changes.  The raw milk will make a whole other blog post of its own, so I am not going to get into that one right now.  We have faced some fierce skepticism for the whole raw milk deal.  We have also made a full commitment to only eating free-range, cage free eggs.  Grass-fed, free-range beef, chicken and pork.  We do not cook processed meals.  We even eat raw veggies.  Tons of fresh, organic fruits.  We have cut out wheat and wheat gluten.  There are tons more changes.  But, the biggest is getting rid of PROCESSED meals, snacks, etc.

What constitutes a processed food product?  Well, anything that comes from those inner aisles in the grocery store.  It may come in a box, a plastic package, a can, etc.  Anything that has ingredients in it that you can't pronounce or don't recognize.  *let me pause right here for a minute.  One of the best pieces of advice I can give to anyone starting this process, which will be the easiest part to stick with, is: IF YOU DON'T RECOGNIZE AN INGREDIENT, NEITHER WILL YOUR BODY.  your digestive organs will not know how to process chemicals that they deem as "foreign".  So, first and foremost, start ridding your shopping lists of anything that include crazy chemicals you can't pronounce or identify.*  Processed foods also come in the form of meats.  So many of our meats are packaged with preservatives to increase shelf life.  They are pumped full of antibiotics as well.  Make sure you are buying the most natural meat products you can find in the grocery store.  When you are ready to make the switch to the "super" all natural meats, that is when you will start buying unprocessed, fresh from the farm beef, chicken and pork.  Milk is another one.  Pumped full of chemicals to increase antibiotics.  When milk is pasteurized, they kill all of the bacteria in the milk.  The good and the bad.  Therefore, you aren't getting any good bacteria either.  This is why we switched to raw... but, like I said, that is another post in itself.  Frozen meals = THE WORST!  They essentially have no nutritional value and are so packed full of chemicals and sodium and "you name it, it's in there", that they can't add any value to the efficiency of your organs and the nutrients your body is receiving.

Here are some things that aren't processed foods.  Another piece of advice that can make the switch extremely easy, if you follow it.  FOODS WITH ONE INGREDIENT.  EAT THOSE!  Like i said, stay away from the inner aisles of the store.  Shop for FRESH veggies.  Not bagged ones.  FRESH!  Try and eat organic, if you can find them.  Or, how about grow a garden for your veggies.  Just a thought.  Next, meat - one ingredient.  However, find a meat that is more natural than the rest.  Potatoes - SWEET POTATOES are best... again, one ingredient.  Milk, Cheese, Eggs, etc.  You get the point.  One ingredient items will help kick start your lifestyle change.  The journey takes time, but it is well worth it.

What I wanted to share with you is the changes which have taken place in my body following this lifestyle change.
- I used to bloat like crazy, almost after every meal.  For the longest time, I just thought it was something genetically wrong.  My mom has always bloated up after eating certain foods, mainly chicken.  Well, I don't do that anymore.  I can't tell you the last time I bloated up after eating a meal.  I truly believe I had such a high sodium, high processed diet before, that everything I ate was causing my body to go into crazy mode.  Chicken was a big bloater for me, just like my mom.  Now that we have changed to all natural, grass fed meats, I don't bloat after eating chicken either.
- I don't experience headaches nearly as often as I did.  Once again, I think this is due to the extinction of high processed foods from my diet.  My sugar intake comes from natural sources such as fruit and honey, not from processed candy, cereals, boxed dinners full of carbs or ice cream, etc.
- I am more alert, less lethargic throughout my day, and I crave good food.
-My skin looks better than it ever has, as I have always suffered from facial blemishes.
-No more fullness/breathing issues:  I have (in my adult years) experienced difficulties breathing- like a constant fullness that came even after eating the smallest meals.  I had it labeled as anxiety.  I wondered if I should quit eating dinner, and drink myself to sleep so I wouldn't struggle with breathing as I lied down.  It was the food I was eating!  My diet was so full of processed foods, refined carbs, etc. that i was suffering.  My blood sugar was rising really fast at night, when my body should have calming down, causing my insides a sense of panic.
-I sleep much more soundly than I ever have.
-My daughter eats all things and anything healthy!  It's her way of life too!  Talk about a radically, awesome side effect of incorporating this while she's young!

As I continue to share the changes in my world, I will dive into some of these food topics a little deeper.  Today was a way for me to scratch the surface and share my experience with what I call "the switch".  Because this is a lifestyle change, y'all.  It is A SWITCH.  A COMPLETE 180.  It is a big deal.  And, if you can do it, you should be proud and you should share it with others.  Knowledge is power, and time doesn't wait.  It's time to turn evolution around.  We are slowly changing our genetics over time with all of this CRAP food we're using as fuel.  Think about it.  Read about it.  And let me know if you want more information on how to go organic.

It's not just my name, it's a way of life.

So, I guess I don't really have a calling, per say.  I guess I consider myself an activist.  I speak on behalf of children's rights.  I post anything and everything on the side of liberty and humanity.  I always make sure my voice is heard.  I guess I just need to stop trying to put a title on everything I do.  I participate in different things that are imperative to my spiritual comfort, but they don't always fall under the same category.  I guess if I had to put a broad title on what I want to show through my life, it would be KINDNESS.  HUMANITY.  LOVING EACH OTHER.

I really wanted to start up a whole new blog from before, in order to document all of my research, to babble about all of the things I advocate, disagree with, participate in, etc; but, I decided to revamp this old blog I started back in 2011.  I titled it "be the change", and well, it only seems fitting to continue on with this in mind.  Now, it's simply titled "be-the-change2013"... keeping in mind that I have changed a lot in the last two years as I'm experiencing what I believe to be a spiritual awakening.  Fitting right?  You can see the change over the last two years, if you look back through this blog.

I share what I do, and I live an open life so that I can help be some of the change.  After all, the CHANGE begins on an individual level.  If I can't share my experiences with others, what good is it?  I take "be the change" seriously.  The most intimate level of change begins within, and in order to help change the world, that inner knowledge, wisdom and personal transformation must be shared with the world in some way.

I have no purpose in life if isn't to leave my mark on this place.
Different day.
Same passion.
Renewed spirit.

So, I have really been racking my brain thinking about something a friend recently said to me.  "Well, your name is Candle.  That has to mean something, right?"  And, then it hit me.  I'm nothing special.  I'm just another woman, wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend... but, I have this strange pull to do something really great.  Maybe not Mother Theresa great, but something great.  Here.  Now.  In my little world.  With the people around me.  And what better personal push than to know that, by birth, my name has had a meaning that we all use to describe light in the darkness.  I think I'm supposed to use that as fuel to speak, share, reach out, advocate, love, give....... I'm gonna use it as my inner fuel.  That is what I'm gonna do.  Candle won't just be my name, it will be my meaning, my way, my purpose.

Starting fresh.  Sending you love.  Wishing you light.
Love,
Candle