Life After Whole30


On day 20 of my most recent (last week) whole30 I felt a punch to the gut as I realized, I’m doing this for all the wrong reasons. How long have I been doing this for the wrong reason?

I was listening to a snap(chat) story from Melissa Hartwig (Whole30 creator) where she addressed the many, many people asking her “are you doing the September Whole30?” and she responded with brevity and confidence. “I do not need to do the Whole30 to support you on your whole30. I don’t need a whole30 now.”

Those words hit me hard. Why was I doing this…. 10th? round of Whole30?

I was whole30ing for friends who wanted support, for a couple of puffy spots I wanted to go down, for an easy way to have pictures to post that I loved on Social Media, and for the thrill of doing it “perfectly” another time. For the rules, and space, to feel “safe” in food and food filled situations. I was doing it with a diet mentality.

I wasn’t doing it for food freedom, to learn about my food sensitivities, to grow my ability to be a great at home cook, to heal my food relationships, to to take care of myself in important ways. I have already done that, and used Whole30 to learn that (and a ton more!).

Doing the program, without any “cheats, slips, or excuses” is important. Once. Maybe twice? But doing that ten times? That’s unhealthy, overkill, and attempting to get something out of the Whole30 that it’s not meant to give you. It’s using it as a diet, as a tool to lose weight, and not for it’s function of whole body and mind, health and food freedom. 

I think I have just wanted every round to give me something more, something I already knew, already learned, but wanted confirmed through deprivation and success. I am a Whole30 junkie. Addict. I love the rules, the reset, the results. I love the community, accountability, and the guiltlessness I feel each evening going to bed feeling like I ate “right” (for me). It gave me so much. And I greedily wanted it to keep giving me more, instead of realizing that without it, and with what I’ve learned, I could give myself unending freedom and growth, in my failures and bumps and learning. I could give myself intuitive eating with back ground knowledge (thanks to what I learned on Whole30 and in reintroduction). Any time I “failed” was not a reason to need another round. It was a mirror to learn from and have grace. You need to go back to bad habits, weird coping foods, and “failures” in order to conquer them and know where they live in the shadows. Unending compliance won’t teach those moments.

It reminds me of climbing. If I never let myself just hang in my harness, I never trust my belay. I cling to the wall in total fear and compliance. I stick to easy routes I know I can do. If I hang, if I FALL, I will grow and figure out new skills and abilities. But it’s terrifying.

Letting myself hang back and see my habits for what they are… restrictive still, here and there. Binging still, here and there. And allowing guilt to navigate my food choices, still, here and there. Those are not things I learned in the Whole30, those are what I ended feeling capable of overcoming. Only, I haven’t given myself much time to really live in the overcoming, only in the failure and then the immediate “I must need another Whole30” feelings.

I know food freedom. I’ve felt it. For the first time in 20 months I had a drink. And it was a moment of freedom. Choosing champagne, not allowing it to choose me/guilt me/rule me/feel obligatory. I drank a tiny flute, enjoyed it, and haven’t gone back. I’ve tasted food freedom, and I know I am capable.

Whole30 fully changed my life. It gave me immense steps towards healing really broken food relationships, it gave me freedom to enjoy parties and park and beach days without feeling preoccupied by whatever Trader Joe’s was sampling, and making myself sick on ice-cream.

Far more importantly it gave me a break from alcohol long enough to show me how much I needed to eliminate it from my life. It revealed an intense gluten sensitivity in my youngest daughter and has made her life, and mine, significantly easier and brighter. It helped me heal near life long eczema and finally wear my wedding rings without blood and irritation.

But I believe it gave me those gifts, information, and healing all in my first two rounds. After that… it ping-ponged between healthy and obsessive, for me and for others, helpful and cumbersome, and guiltless and most recently; guilt filled.

Once I realized I wasn’t doing this for the right reasons I realized how thoroughly I had stepped into promoting this lifestyle, as a long long term diet, without realizing the ramifications this could have to those who read along.

Whole30 is not the be all end all. It will not be the means to the end for everyone. And it can be easily abused. The tag line of “no cheats, no slips, no excuses” is imperative for your first round, when you are looking to find very real food sensitivities, and begin to feel feelings you’ve masked with food. But that mantra can become very dangerous in round five (or two or twenty, whenever) when it becomes your reason to restrict food, lose out on friendships, and not enjoy dates with your spouse. It isn’t what the program promotes, and I can only imagine the hair flip and eye roll the Whole30 social media team gives me when they see my umpteenth post in their hashtag… ‘she’s doing this? again?’

I want to be very honest, I love the Whole30 program. I am endlessly grateful for all that I have learned. I will still talk about it, answer questions, and support people through their W30 journeys. But I will no longer DO any whole30’s. It makes me feel sick to write that. Like I am leaping from the airplane of my bad food relationship and leaving the parachute behind. But I am taking a leaf out of Melissa Hartwig’s book and reminding myself that “I can support you on your whole30 without being on one…I don’t need one, I’ve found food freedom.” {paraphrasing}

I think it’s a great program that works for a large group of people, and that it’s worth sticking through the hard-hard-hard of it when you still have more to gain from it. But I have shifted my perspective and now feel like, quite possibly, the hardest learned lessons in food are in the #lifeafterwhole30 times. In choosing foods that fuel and fill you, even when you don’t “have” to. In choosing moderation, and fun, and that worth it meal. Food Freedom Forever to me doesn’t mean a guiltless and never bumpy ride. It means learning to enjoy my life, fuel my body to it’s very best. And know how to love and grace myself back to health, even when I don’t do everything just right.

I have failed this whole30, but I am not a failure.

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back to, what?

Back to school is on my mind… with notebooks and corduroys on sale in every store I am realizing that the days are getting shorter and it’s time to start thinking about some routine again. It still feels strange to not be ‘going to school’ in the traditional way, I never (ever) envisioned us homeschooling, but year two, and here we go.

Being homeschoolers gives us a little bit of wiggle room with the dates on “back to school”. The district we live in starts this week (in august!) and I’m still clinging tight to all day beach days, my swim suit, and driving towards water whenever I get the chance. But, fall is coming and as much as right now is heat waves and water days, the rain and grey will be back in a blink, and we’re slowly readying our brains.

Last year I went through all the hullaballoo of creating a homeschool space (with desks!), and then uncreating that space because it got zero use. Our schooling was in the car, on the go, at the kitchen table, around the computer, at the ocean, on vacation, and late at night when all of Noele’s brain was firing and sleep was… far.

This year, I’m letting Back To School creep in slowly. I’ve seen as the girls paw back out their workbooks, and begin to talk about their school friends and teachers (we attend a Parent Partnership Program through our public school that is AWESOME and provides free supplemental classes). I’m already seeing that this year will be very different.


Ever is taking a far more active roll in school, we’re all sitting down and they’re excitedly doing math work while Charlie and I cook dinner.

This year I’m going to try and implement a *bit* more of a schedule to our learning, and hopefully that means a little more space for me to feel like I am getting a break and time to work on my own endeavors (like, this blog! Want to work together? email me!). I’ve never been a schedule follower, but my girls crave it and I can see how beneficial it would be. This year I feel ready to fill our planner up a bit, and get our educational ball rolling in new ways.

We have a science center membership (uh, did you know that you can get an annual membership to the Seattle Science Center for $19 if you qualify for ANY state assistance (even insurance!)?). And we’re gonna break it in. This is the year of math and science.

I’m still working on what kind of curriculum vs. unit learning we are going to be focusing on, but I plan to share more if there is interest. {let me know in the comments here or on FB} and about what worked for us and didn’t for last year’s Kindy experience.

(I have a post rattling in my head about being the most reluctant homeschooler… ever. But I can’t quite get it all pinned down, without feeling a bit like a jerk. )

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Needless to say, my heart is with the sun but my head is beginning to look for orange leaves and long sleeves.

Working out, with kids everywhere.

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I remember when I was 20, working out was just on my list. I’d go to classes at this building and that and then end my day watching ANTM or The Pickup Artist (anyone know these shows? My love of terrible TV has been around forever) on the treadmill at my University’s gorgeous rec center. It was another class to attend, box to check, and it wasn’t Herculean to get there.

Now, working out, with two kids always with me, is. . . not like that. It’s getting easier to squeeze in as they grow up, understand what I mean when I ask for “some space”, and have a long enough attention span to play and self entertain for a good block of time while I workout at home. But, it’s still hit or miss. It’s still easy to be frustrated with them. Their ability to hurt themselves, fall off something, or become desperately hungry RIGHT when my warm up has ended… uncanny.

Lately I’ve been working hard to shift my focus. Here are a few tips that have helped, infinitely.

  1. Let them join in, lower the expectation.


I’ve changed my view from “okay, I’m going to do this 32 minute video!” to; alright… I am putting this on, and will finish it eventually. Often, that means 32minutes, but also fairly often, that means 65min with all the interruptions for books read, babies on my back during plank, snacks needed, back doors that are too sticky to open without help, a dog losing its mind, the cat puking, a spilled bag of sunflower seeds… you get it. I get done what I can get done, and don’t expect it to be as quick as the video promises. Instead of feeling like that is “less” of a workout, I reframe that it’s more. It’s just a new interval training; Mom/push-ups/Momming/dead lift/ mom/craft/potty/plank… I mean, this has to be doing positives for my heart rate!

2. Strike when the iron’s hot!



When the kids are entertained and happy, playing or sleeping, or watching a TV show. . . GO! Ignore the mess around you, the dishes in the sink, and just get done whatever makes you feel best. For me, often that means that yoga gets prioritized. If the moment strikes again, then I’ll often lift weights or do HIIT, but yoga calms my brain. So if that 20min window seems to open up (or, thank you Octonauts, I create it) I take it. Guiltlessly, and without regard to the mess around me.

And, finally, 3.

Anything can be a workout with kids around. I’ve stopped feeling like it doesn’t “count” unless I’m in my sports bra, tracking my distance, or lifting a barbell. I’ve remembered that races with energetic six year old legs, monkey bars, hikes from the beach with ALL the stuff you need for  a day in the sun (You know what I mean; cooler, beach blanket, floaties, life vests, back pack of clothes and swim suits, and on and on and on…), walking with that preschooler on your back, and 85 trips to and from the car with the groceries… These ‘count’ too. These are what make my Lifestyle a healthy one, not how long I can hold a plank. This is the functional fitness that helps me to keep up with my wild ones at the spray park, and those muscles that can heft a 6 year old in and out of a grocery cart? THOSE count.


My workouts have taken a shift over the past 7 years, they look a little weird now and different than what I see in Nike ad’s and all across my IG, but I’ll take it. It’s working for my body and, most importantly, my brain. It’s also for my little people, who are watching my every move.

There will be years for me to attend the classes I want, the yoga retreats I dream of, and the gym of my dreams. But, for me, this isn’t the year. So transitioning my brain to what my reality is, and allowing that to be not just enough, but GOOD, has been so helpful.

I was inspired to write this post after receiving the prompt #weirdworkout by Prana in conjunction with Sweat Pink. The idea of a weird workout stumped me initially, this is all very normal to me. But, stepping back I realized, my normal (and likely yours too), is a little weird. That doesn’t make it any less functional, life giving, and important. If you want to share your #weirdworkout and join in on the Giveaway for $300 to Prana and a two month supply of Organic Fuel  with Organic Vally and Prana you can check it out here. There are lots of ways to engage and up your chances!






I used to say yes, always. Yes, yes, yes. I’ll bake that cake, make the extra meal, take care of that toddler, write that, post that, moderate this, email them, yes yes yes. Then I read the quote about “…saying Yes to this means saying No to that…” I thought deeply about what I was saying No to. I was too tired to look for  middle ground. The early years of motherhood should just come with a large dose of; Don’t bother with yes or no, go with it, go with grace and grace and grace. Only that.

I shifted; No, No, No. No to all of it, to you, to me, to everything. I was left with saying yes to the only thing I knew I could say yes to without mistake, my children.

It’s strange. I’m a grey believing person, little in my life is black and white and the older I get the less black and white there seems to be. Why this quote shook me so hard, and shifted me so thoroughly from black to white, I can’t quite pin down. But I can feel, and know, that it was wrong. Where my heart and growth are rich is in my Yes. I know myself better the more I give.

The often heard quote in mom’s group (to be fair, it can’t be heard enough!) is that “you can’t pour from an empty cup”. So as I’ve begun to say yes again, to taking these pictures, writing those posts, moderating that group, holding this baby (yes, emphatically!), and making that meal, I’ve also added some new yeses to list.

When the girls were so young I had to find the way to say yes to me in the small moments. In washing the dishes and watching the wind in the tree out my window. In laying in bed for the precious half hour before all the little feed padded in to join me (still do, but now it’s about three hours!). I worked to find it in the small spaces. But as they’ve grown, so has my space, and with it I let guilt creep in. But whole and healthy has hollered louder, and now I just accept my space as a huge gift.

Yes to self care, yes to yoga, yes to writing blogs that might make no sense or seem wholly self indulgent, yes to things that I may get made fun of  for, yes to boldness, yes to what makes my soul sing. Yoga, writing, running, lifting heavy weights, dreaming bigger than before, and yes to new. New experiences, new ways of viewing myself.

My yes has multiplied the ways I can serve. The way I can give more now, while feeling full still. I’m relentlessly on the search for some balance as I still Yes where I should NO, here and there. But seeing that selfishness and selflessness can coincide in the same hour, I feel some freedom.

If you are Yes to everyone else and a No to you, take a moment to stand and think what you need and can do for you in a two minute span. Can giving yourself two minutes of deep breaths change you? Yes. Can a meal eaten alone, in your laundry room, with your eyes closed change you? Yes. Can a door closed and music loud for five minutes of sun salutations heal your heart, just an inch, YES.

I’m all over them map, the self care and giving map. Trying to find my north star as I, aimless, shoot arrows into ideas that might pop into a blissful rain of YES. But, sometimes, they just deflate the cloud and leave me standing there deciding; now what? And that’s okay. That’s my Yes, and it’s okay.

Right now, this season, I am saying yes to dreaming and trying. Failing and becoming even more of character of ridiculous millennial musings. I’ll say, it feels good. It feels so good.


The sun, the sand, the hauling.


The end of this summer has been full of day trips, mountain adventures, and driving to new places. The girls’ familiarity with “quiet, Siri is telling me where to turn!” has grown exponentially the past few weeks. We had a slow start to summer as all the adventures felt overwhelming. Packing, food, life vests, hikes with small children, bed time worries, on and on… I let the anticipation of it going wrong eat me up and keep us home. But I tore the bandaid off and it’s been awesome. Now I’m sending out messages to friends with cabins, researching camp grounds, and wishing I’d packed this all into the earlier months, but don’t care much because Summer is rolling and the heat is here and we’re READY.

The magic of their ages is hitting me so hard. They are competent and strong hikers with legs to match their dreams. We can climb without carriers, they can pack their own little packs, and their zeal for sleeping outside is unmatched. They aren’t quite babies anymore, and that’s beginning to show up in our adventures in ways I couldn’t hardly let myself dream in the years before. If this summer, at 4 and 6, we are rife with day trips and few mile hikes met with smiles and conking out hard in the car… I can’t fathom what 7 and 5 will bring next year. I’m already starting to plan.


School in our district starts in a couple weeks. But I have a feeling our school will look a lot like rock identifying, bird watching, and swimming ‘lessons’ in every body of water we can find until the weather turns. These girls have given me a gift in this life, in ways I can’t put accurately, they’re always allowing me to learn as I teach and teaching me with unending grace for my failings. I can’t hardly stand that I waited so long to just get OUT here, but now that we are, we are.

Each time we get where it’s wet enough or high enough, our family reconnects. The phones go away, the dishes aren’t present, the projects invisible, and all that is there is us. It’s hard to harp on a messy room when you can’t see it, impossible to stay angry at a husband who is pulling you up out of a river that took a hold of you. Hand holding over slippery rocks, wild adventures up strong streams, and rock collecting, on top of shell collecting, on top of agate hunting. I hear them clearer over the river, Charlie holds them closer near the cliffs and we all go quiet at the stars.


Pacific Northwest Is Best isn’t just a slogan, it’s heart true. On our drives we are inundated with green and mountains, tree’s and rivers, and on our hikes up it’s wild flowers and berries, chipmunks and the tiniest grey mouse the girls had ever seen. It’s a dream to live here. I never want to leave.

I’ve always wondered why I don’t have Wanderlust… I think it’s because I’ve found my place. It’s all the high’s and valleys, beaches and rivers, trees and bright skies that are all within an hour from my cozy neighborhood. We have adventure and home all in one breath.


ebb and flow(ing) all over the place

I am deeply sensitive and emotional, my mood affects my heart and my heart changes my mood in the most high and low ways. I’ve often wished to be different. To be unaffected and capable of just setting routines, schedules, and goals and not live so swayed by heartache, the news, a photo on Facebook, a harsh word from a friend, a squabble with Charlie, all of it.

The longer I live as a highly sensitive person the more I learn. Lately, the more I see that I can harness those highs and lows and emotions in ways that feel connective and full, and work for me. The less self-conciously I can feel my feelings, the brighter I feel and the more I have to give.

My heart is a naturally inclined to give, my answer nearly always swinging to not just a ‘yes’ but an emphatic and encouraging “of course!” and the same goes for my demeanor. While most of the people I surround myself with would claim that they have intense “resting bitch face” to the rest of the world, I stand out as a resting “hey! Come chat with me!” and I’m done thinking that’s wrong, or weird. I’m fully ready to know that… it’s just me! I am always wanting to hear someone’s story, and want to listen. Even if it is with a kid on my hip, another in the cart, and you’re ready to tell me all about your allergy heartaches after seeing all the raw nuts in my cart.

I am taking the ebb and flow of my feelings and using them. I am deeply rooted into loving giving. My knowledge, my experiences, my answers. I’m spending hours a week  (via snapchat, instagram, Facebook, and email) answering questions about online workouts, weight lifting, birthing, breast feeding, cultural appropriation and how we can grow in awareness. Answering questions about no-poo hair care, oil pulling, supplements, gentle parenting, marriage after betrayal, marriage after the ‘honeymoon’ phase ends, and on and on. I’m in the space of wanting to give, and put it out there.

I have been a user of social media forever, my blog dates back to my first years of college and sharing recipes for nachos (yes, seriously). I am a sharer, and lover of connecting people to each other. The only constant in my life is that I am always, inadvertently often, working on building communities. Always.

Since leaving the Mama network in the capable hands of Moms who had the right love to give, I’ve gone on to create a large network for Whole30, an active network for currently W30ing people, and a thriving group for fitness and encouraging each other without selling/product pushing. I can’t help myself. {also, if you’d like links to any of those groups, let me know in the comments here or on FB and I’ll add them}

All this to say, I’m not great at cultivating a niche, my heart is all over the place. I will continue on this space to overshare about weird natural skin and hair care, whatever strange super food is giving my heart and body a boost, my woes about time management and routine setting, body positivity, body positive fitness, and all that I am struggling with in joining that world and community. I want to share about the big goals I have for myself and the ways I am aching to reach them, and here and there about my parenting and my children. They’re my first and world, but as the internet explodes with growth daily I feel more and more hesitant to share them in a space where they will some day soon share themselves, and want to paint their own pictures. So they will always play into my writing, because they are everything. And where 99% of my time is. But know that the reason this space is quieter and quieter about parenting is because it is done with thought, not because I don’t have words just bubbling out and up and over about parenting in this phase (my heart aches to blog it, but they aren’t just my stories…).

I’m applying and pitching my heart out lately, I’m working to create some sponsored content I care and believe in, as a means of growing this blog into one that can help our family start to achieve some big dreams. Some unspeakable goals. And some fun. I hope that you’ll stick with me though this, as I muddle through figuring it out. And, mostly, I welcome and really really appreciate any feedback about what/how I am doing here. I want this space to function as a journal, because my heart needs it. But I also want it to work for someone reading, what information do you want? What are you looking for? And how can I help give that more freely?

Thanks for muddling through with me. And, shamelessly, if you ever want to work collaboratively, email me. I would always love and welcome the opportunity to talk through ideas.


This photo is from a day we spent at a beach, alone. I snapped some photos that I’ve held tight to for a couple months now. They are traditionally ‘unflattering’ and highlight parts of myself that I’ve been wholly conditioned to hide. But, soon, I’m going to blog about the importance of normalizing bodies of all shapes being fit, and will get brave with them. But, for today, this easy to digest one that I am proud of. I’ve worked so hard to make headstand possible and create enough strength to hold it, so now I pop it up everywhere! Now to cross my fingers and begin a draft sharing some much more raw images. . .


Waking up with a plan. A small routine. Knowing my legs can carry me far. Feeling my muscle tighten when I bend into a Sun Salutation. I trust the floor to hold me up and my shoulders to propel me forwards. I can kick up, and in, and hold, a headstand. I am confident in my curvy frame that shakes around as I tighten everything and focus hard in an effort to breath, and not fall.

Looking at them and feeling calm in their chaos. Love for them in the screaming. And deeper grace for their freak outs. I feel less frantic, more sure, and even surer still that the storms will end and the calm lapping water of them falling into me will resume as quickly at the tempests rage.

As parenting changes and gets harder and different and easier and new, I am trying to fall in deep and embrace it. Knowing that now, even more than before, I’m tending the hearts of eventual adults. And the deep arms of someone who will unconditionally listen, hear your subtext, and wait for between the lines to be spoken; even when it takes a long time. Those actions are life changers. Gifts my parents gave me and now I have the capacity to give to my girls, a cycle I want to continue and continue forever.

Not every day do I feel like an anchor. There are days I’m the trash bag that shouldn’t be in the ocean, being beaten by the waves and then flying away whenever the storm allows me to (often, to the bathroom to stand and cry and think “what can I do??? how can I do this??”). But the deeper their needs and hearts and desires grow it seems the more my days of feeling like a beacon and sure spot, grow too. It reminds me of the baby days, as they got rolling I felt so out of my depth and like the impossibility of meeting these immediate needs was crushing, and then days and months and years when by and I met the needs without thinking and filled cups and held them to my breast without thought, without ache or complaint, it became more and more my state. I feel that with this stage, not yet do I feel confident, but I’m nearly swimming.

I turned 30 a few weeks ago. I’ve never felt like I’m old. Rather, I’ve identified as a ‘young mom’ for about seven years. In the end of that title, I am finding a little pause… age. I am no longer a young Mom in the sense that I am young. And I am no longer a young mom in that my baby is not young. I am just, a Mom. The Mom, in my home. Mom.

I’m in a unique position of always having the framework surrounding me that I am *young*. My siblings are all around a decade+ older than me, so being the baby by a long shot has always aged me up. I felt comfortable (enough) in conversations with people much older than me, for as long as I can remember. When I finally had a friend group my age (college) that quickly shifted as I got pregnant young and made friends with other mamas, my peer number jumped up to about 30 while I was still 23, and ever since then I’ve always been the youngest of my friends too (nearly always).

Mama is slowly fading as it’s replaced by “Mom! Can you help with with this?”. Young Mom is gone. Peer group’s no longer care about age, I’m not even sure the ages of most of my friends, I know they range from around 23-44, but I doubt you could even guess whose on what end.

At 30 I feel more sure of my body than ever before. I feel surer still of what makes it tick and run and work it’s best, and more grace for the times I don’t choose that. I feel confident in knowing that I’m not someone who needs best friends, and treasure alone time and time with my family above basically all else. I feel calmer about time passing and more confident that I can absolutely have it all, just not all at once.

It isn’t all happening gracefully. I tantrum and cry about what I want right now, and cannot have. I wail about my need for more support, and more time with my love. I see the things coming that I crave and sob for the things ending that I love.

But, here at newly minted 30. I feel different. And glad. But not old. I feel more than ever that ages are fairly irrelevant. I’m a baby, so young, to so many. And ancient and “your 30?!” to so many others. But to me, I’m glad. To my girls, I’m Mom. And to Charlie, I’m his best friend.

30, thus far, is just fine.


My Morning Routine

{disclaimer: I know that not everyone has the space for a long morning routine, I have lived without a fixed schedule for so long I can often lose sight of that. This post is meant to show a few quick means you can add, but also is specific to my own morning and routine goals. It’s meant in the spirit of encouraging everyone to think a bit about what might help them make their day feel like it’s made for them, and not such a race to the finish. That might be one deep breath and a thought about how strong you are through this hard phase. Or it may mean an hour of running, and a long hot shower, before your partner wakes. We all have different experiences and I want to be sensitive to the extreme privilege it is that I can think about this, meander through my answers, and have the space in time, and brain, to really find things that work for me. I hope this post can inspire you to find a moment for you, whatever that will be or look like, regardless of the excess or whole lack of time you have.}

I thought that as the kids got a bit older it would be easier and easier to prioritize my needs again. They are more independent, able to help themselves to snacks and the bathroom, tell me just what they need, and when, that it would be easier for me to do the same. That the immediacy of their needs would decrease so I could maybe feel the importance of my needs getting back on the table again. But, I was wrong. As they age their needs diversify and are less immediate in sound (crying hungry baby… that’s obviously immediate!) and more intense in emotion (feeling left out or jilted by a new friend… that’s now deeply immediate and incredibly important as well, but I need to be listening closely to hear it). Consequently I am left, after year seven, needing to find a new way to determine my needs and meeting them in a way that makes me feel like I can hear myself for a moment, and also in a way that doesn’t compete with the importance of my girls’ (still growing) need set.

Enter… something I’ve never thrived at… a Morning Routine. I think in the past I’ve aimed too high. I have decided I will; wake at X time, eat this/that, drink this/that, read all of that, and get a 30min workout/yoga in. Every.Damn.Day.

And then I fail on day three and feel awful about it.

This time around I am feeling more realistic and it’s stuck for about a month, so I am optimistic this will stick around. Here is the routine: oil pull (20min), coffee and collagen peptides, water and beef liver, and one intention set for the day. I think that the main reason this is sticking around more easily is because it’s not all that different from how my morning shakes out on it’s own; coffee and water have been in the routine for a solid 15 years…. so? not so hard to add two pills with the water and a scoop to my coffee. Oil pulling is…. new. (to me)

Basically it’s swishing an oil around in your mouth and around your teeth, for between 10-20min, and then spitting it out (I spit mine outside) and then brushing (I brush and floss). It is supposed to help with a myriad of issues (headaches, migraine, diabetes, asthma, acne, inflation, cramping, tooth pain, tooth whitening, the list goes on), but I can only really report on two: tooth pain and whitening. I first employed oil pulling because I was having really really intense tooth pain (I think I had an infection on top of an erupting wisdom tooth). After a week or consistent swishing, the pain was nearly gone and my dentist was shocked at how healthy my mouth was! I hadn’t been to the dentist in ten years, and I came out after my first appt. with just two cavities. And, secondly, and probably embarrassingly more motivating, now that the pain is gone,  my teeth are getting SO MUCH whiter than before. Like, shockingly so. Oil pulling is pretty sick the first couple of times, but once you get the hang of it it’s super easy peasy. I use unrefined coconut oil (just shy of a tablespoon), I do it while I straighten up the house, snuggle the girls (they think it’s funny to see my pantomime all the answers to their questions), and punk around on my phone. Eventually the time goes by pretty easily.

BeFunky Collage_151

I have also added Vital Proteins Collagen Peptides and Beef Liver capsule to my morning routine. The collagen stirs right into black coffee (or blends into bullet proof) tastelessly, and the benefits are ridiculous. My hair and nails are growing like mad (my bangs! They are grown out! Officially!). Collagen is also helpful for sleep rhythms, digestion, bone strength, joint pain and health and helps to shorten recovery time after intense workouts. I’ve personally see benefits in my skin/nails/hair, joint pain, and recovery time. It is also protein packed and I am always (always) on the lookout for easy ways to add more protein to my diet since I’m not a huge meat/eggs lover and I can tend to over do it on nuts and beans easily. So the ease of stirring this into my coffee is… amazing. It’s also Whole30 approved, has no weird additives, and isn’t flavored at all; Win, win!

I also pop two capsule of Beef Liver from Vital Proteins with 20oz of water. These I was more wary of, so I did some research (people are pretty polarized about eating liver!) and decided to give it a go. It’s only been about a month but the reported benefits are laid out well in the chart at the end of this article. But some of the ones I was excited about are that it helps with better (less painful) periods, digestion, and nutrient absorption, and can aid in iron deficiency. I’ve also noticed an increase in energy, but I’m not sure if I should credit the collagen or the liver.

And, finally, and possibly the most effective part of my routine is intention setting. I would love if this coincided with some gorgeous morning yoga in the sunny light all before my children woke… but, nah. Instead it’s usually as I brush my teeth. I just calmly set one intention. It might be a goal like; fit in 30min of yoga(or a workout), journal for five minutes, write a message to a friend I’ve been thinking of. Or it might be something more thoughtful; Be aware of my breath, think more of my kids and play presently, plug my phone in and put it away during all meal times, list five things I am thankful for right now. Those kind of things… those intentions help me SO much. Just to set a momentary tone for the day. Without judgement as to wether or not it even happens, it happened in that moment and I cared enough to take one deep breath and do it.

A piece of having an intentional morning, that still fits my family and schedule, that I am really liking is that I can see more and more how I can add to this. I can grow it into five deep breaths and a sun salutation, and eventually that dreamy light filled 30min practice… in five years or so. But I’m taking small steps towards it and finding a way to fit some of my needs, health, and goals all into a few minutes in the AM.

Do you have a morning routine that you choose (I’ve found that without a thoughtful one I have a default one of; Grump at my kids till my coffee is drank while I mindlessly scroll my phone…now I can scroll my phone with oil in my mouth and feel a little more functional and can’t grump because it’s hard to grump when you have to physically act out the motion of “go potty and put the legos away!”… everyone is laughing by the end) This routine is specific to me and my goals and needs, I don’t think that what I am doing here is a magic pill for everyone, but rather I want to share it in hope that if you share similar goals it will help you, and if you don’t that it will be a spring board for finding the routine, or just a moment, to set your day up to feel aimed for you. I’d love to hear your routines, mine is growing, and it feels so fresh and good!


{this post isn’t paid, Vital Proteins graciously sent me some products to try out but I’ve continued using them and am wholly obsessed, and will continue to use them!}

Putting Together our Puzzle


Often it can feel like all or nothing… parenting, working out, eating whole foods, all of it. I’m eating whole30 and meal prepping, or I’m making eggs and cobbling together snack plates full of chips and too much peanut butter for my kids. I’m reading, on the floor playing, making it to all the extracurriculars, and homeschooling like a boss…. or, it’s too much netflix, me lost in my book, or Facebook, and telling them “sure, in a minute!”. And more often than not I vacillate greatly between these. Working out five days a week, or days on top of days off in a row, lethargy, and a bad mood I can’t quit.


I’ve found it harder and harder to find that balance of my needs, their needs, and my body’s needs. Summertime seems like it wouldn’t be that different for a homeschooling family, but it is. The schedule gone, the friends home from school, the pressure to soak up the sun on the days it’s here (PNW sun guilt is REAL), and the desire to be a really involved Mom who does fun stuff! often! I’ve been letting it eat me up a bit.

As I made it to several of the end of school year parties and activities, I found my neglect of my needs becoming acute, the workouts getting sparse, and the sugar abundant. I also found that as I fell out of balance there, I fell out everywhere, and so did my family. I was taking the girls places, but I wasn’t present. I was pushing them off, even at the beach in the sun. I was retreating from all of our needs.

Last week I attended a monthly Moon Tea (women circle) that I am lucky enough to be a part of, and in it I talked about  my fears with blogging, and IG, and really embracing how much I love it and want to work in social media and marketing (eek, putting that out there!). I got to let myself go inward a bit about how strange it feels to be so vulnerable in a public space, and how much I love it, even if it feels judged or strange, or that others can’t understand it. Since getting that all stirred up in my heart, and affirmed by lovely people, I’ve been in a new space about this balance.

Watching myself struggle and fall, and able to begin to pick up and put in line my priorities. What felt like needs in opposition is now starting to look like pieces to a puzzle of a Whole Family.


Hiking and ice-cream, beach days and saying no to that activity in favor of a workout is okay. Whole30 foods, and missed workouts in favor of a longer snuggly bed time is okay. Telling my girls that I need this hour to do yoga and they can play or read is also okay. Asking them, directly, “what do you need?” is important. Following through is more important. Asking myself “What do I need? Now? Tomorrow? In a year?” and stepping towards each motion, is paramount.

Starting today, we are all holding our pieces and putting them into our family space, with equality and respect for each of these desires and needs we all have. Today that looks like hours spent coloring, hard conversations about life and current events (in age appropriate words), and me investing deeply in them and then in myself by quieting the noise with yoga.


This post is rambly. And strange. And all about where my heart is at right now, and how I am finding peace and balance in the imperfect, and reflecting on how ridiculously and thankfully easy and light these needs are.

I want to fully acknowledge that I have an intense privilege to get to examine all of this. I live in a dream world where I am allowed and able to ask myself these questions, shift my perspective, and enjoy these years so fully. I know that many (most) others, don’t get this privilege, and I strive to be doing what I can to hear, see, love, and give to the communities who don’t have the same ease that I get.

Our family has so much to give, and we are giving it out everywhere we can, and brainstorming better ways to do and give and love more. But I’m starting here, at home. Raising kids so overfull of love that my hope is that they know and learn to listen to and pour that love out on everyone, anyone, those who need it most.


the love story goes on. 30 is coming.

IMG_4991Sometimes I forget that our love story doesn’t live only between the “will you be my boyfriend” and “I do.” This story isn’t just the “I lied.” and the end of “I forgive you.” that we felt those early years. The story kept ticking. With the ‘I got the job.’ and ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ it lives deeper in the ‘will we make it?’ and the, ‘I’m pregnant.’ Now our story keeps growing with the ‘what will I be next?’ ‘what will we do when they grow big?’ and deeply in the ‘are you content? is this what you want?’ and ‘do we leap here… or there? or never? or today?’

Love stories aren’t just for the young, new, or fresh.

Charlie and I are still young to me; We come at age from different directions as he is the oldest in his family, first to marry/have babies all of that, so he feels old(er). I, however, am the youngest by a long-shot (9, 10, 13 years between my siblings and I) so approaching 30 I feel like I am just now starting to brush my finger tips onto adult-hood, almost. Something in being the youngest will always make me feel young, even as I start to culturally knock on the door of old.

Last night as we were laying side by side, him rubbing my back as we comfortably watched a TV show in bed, I realized… this is still unfolding. There is so much to our story. My heart leaps a little when I realize that the story I used to tell, the one that felt like it shaped us (the hard one, sad one, betrayal and growth and relearning love one) is just one of our stories. That the seasons are immense and that story ended, in many ways, 9 years ago and a new one has been growing roots.

Deep through my toes I can feel it, best on the beach, my feet in the rocks. Our love has grown deeper through the past years, despite it being a less exciting story to tell. The roots of endless conversations and tears, the roots that shoot out my toes and into the deep, with fervor because we are more butterfly filled and hand holding clueless than we were 12 years ago. The roots that I had the honor to grow as I swayed with babies weighing my arms down. These roots aren’t the first tendrils of young love, they’re the ones that fall deep. I’m in  love with crinkly eyed smiles and well worn lines that I know I have had a hand in carving out. They are shared kisses and complete awe that, despite all the cold water thrown on us, hasn’t tempered this love yet. 

So some pieces of this story are over, and I couldn’t be more thankful to turn the page on them. Last night it hit me, this love story is still going. It doesn’t reside in just comfort, but instead in growth and love and sparks and joy and yes so much comfort, but not apathy in any capacity. These years will seem like baby years when we celebrate 40 and not 9 of this union. We’re still so new.

Marriage is not past-tense for me. It’s new experiences growing my foundation deep, it’s long kisses that feel like they could uproot me in a heartbeat and I’d follow them wherever they pull, knowing this is the long haul.

Lately the love story I feel the hardest is his crinkley eyes when he smiles at me. I never would have appreciated those wrinkles a decade ago, I would have been shocked at our mutual aging. But now, those lines undo me.

Baby, 30 is coming, we’re young and in love and I can’t wait for more and more and more.