Four years and saggy boobs later

Warning: this is a body image post. Even worse, it's a mommy bloggy body image post, as if the world needs any more of those. But this isn't a feel-good piece about loving your body just as much post-baby (Because I don't), and it's not about whether children are worth it (because they obviously are if you want them). This is a post about whether our outsides match our insides by accident or design. 

I wrote a bit on this blog about body image during my first pregnancy, four years ago. I celebrated the roundness of first-time pregnancy curves and lamented bodily autonomy from the perspective of a 24-year-old as that gestation progressed. However, I felt no need to revisit those subjects during my second pregnancy as a 28-year-old-- a pregnancy that came to a close with the birth of my beautiful daughter one month ago-- partly because it felt like old hat and partly because I have less time for self-indulgent ramblings in general.

Though I spent nine months wallowing in the **unique and exciting** world of baby-growing as if I were the first woman to discover reproduction during my first pregnancy, I did not write about postpartum recovery after the birth of my son. I do, however, remember feeling attractive seven weeks after his birth, when I went out with some friends for my 25th birthday. I remember getting dressed on that night in a tight, jersey knit Victoria's Secret dress and deciding not-- NOT-- to wear spanx at the last minute. 

I feel all right about my pushing-thirty self right now, but I don't see myself forgoing spanx any time in the near future. I also don't remember feeling so (physically) mommish after Charlie was born. It's possible my memory is failing me, but I can't recall a time when I looked in the mirror and saw what I felt to be a stereotypical mom body back then. Now, it's all I see. My milk-laden boobs are as big as last time, but aren't they a little less pert? I gathered a handful of stretch marks around my hips this time around (a phenomenon I manged to avoid until after my second child's due date. Harrumph.) And the cellulite around my thighs seems to have settled in for an extended stay.

 

Perhaps most noticeably, my skin is distinctly different now in a way I don't recall from four years ago. It feels lovely but looks slightly sad-- soft and a tad bit loose like an elephant made of velvet. I describe it in an affectionate way because I genuinely feel mostly affectionate toward these developments, which brings me to the question I mentioned at the beginning of this post: Is my body (and my attitude towards it) reflective of the position I have embraced in life or an inevitable product of aging? 

I identify at this point in my life primarily as a mother (a title that holds the distinction as the only one I've always known for 100% sure I wanted), and I suspect that I have both subconsciously and consciously tailored my appearance to fit that description. Of course I look more like a mom now with sensibly short, naturally colored hair than I did four years ago with highlighted long layers a la every  underwear model. Of course I am softer and looser now post-pregnancy when I allowed myself to be 5-10 pounds heavier pre-pregnancy because no one wants to snuggle a bony mommy. These things aren't accidents and to complain and delude myself into thinking I am not complicit in my transformation into a 30-year-old mom lady is patently ridiculous. 

I guess what I'm saying is dress for the job you want, and if you're really committed, get fat and saggy for it, too. The snuggle phase only lasts a few years, and I'll be damned if my babies don't have a comfy mommy...

What's that? Ten year high school reunion is in how long now?... Catch ya on the treadmill! ✌️

Shut Up About "Participation Trophies" Already

It has become a symbol of Millennials' entitled attitude, our unwillingness to believe we aren't special: the participation trophy. The trinket you get to take home even if you lose, telling you losing is ok. 

Well guess what, I was highly competitive throughout my entire childhood in a myriad of equestrian events, thanks largely to an awesome organization called United States Pony Clubs. I LOVED winning, and I competed internationally. USPC often gave participation ribbons to low-scoring teams at the end of its big competitions, called rallies. And guess what: WE ALL KNEW THEY WERE BULLSHIT. 

They were always hideous, either orange or neon-something or tacky rainbow, and worse, they meant you lost. Getting a tiny, hideous ribbon didn't lessen the sting of losing an event you'd prepared for for months. 

In retrospect, these abominations did serve a purpose, as a memento of the rallies we had shed blood, sweat, and tears to attend. Months of practices and literally days of practical preparation-- bathing horses, cleaning tack, packing feed, cleaning trailers, memorizing rules for written tests, labeling grooming kits, dry cleaning jackets, etc. etc. and more etc.-- were all commemorated by the crappy ribbons we shoved to the bottom of our tack trunks or reluctantly pinned behind blues on our barn bulletin boards. But none of us thought we were winners when all that work didn't result in a good finish. 

So, if you think this generation is entitled and delusional, fine. But it's not because of the fucking participation ribbons, promise. 

Ten Minute, No Bake Summer Dessert: "Tiramisu" pudding cups

Two things I love on a level that is probably somewhat unreasonable:

1. Tiramisu, the coffee-and-custard layered cake of Italian heaven

2. No-bake desserts, especially in summer time

Thus, today, after seeing a picture of a perfectly constructed tiramisu cake on someone's facebook feed, I decided to combine the two. My first priority was eschewing the somewhat tedious and time-consuming construction of a traditional tiramisu. On top of that, I only used ingredients already in my pantry, and I refused to turn the oven on. What I came up with was a 10 to 15 minute pudding concoction that I wouldn't be ashamed to serve at a fancy party. 

Tiramisu pudding cups

Ingredients:

-One package Jello instant pudding in cheesecake flavor

-1/2 tbsp coffee extract (You could also use espresso powder, but I like the vague booziness of extract)

-a couple handfuls Nilla wafers

-a couple handfuls semi-sweet or dark chocolate chips (mini chips if possible)

-unsweetened cocoa powder

Directions:

1. Combine pudding packet and cold milk as instructed on packet, allow time to set

2. Whisk in coffee extract until smoothly combined

3. Crush Nilla wafers into chunks and add to pudding (The ratio of pudding:wafers:chocolate is up to you)

4. Add chocolate chips

5. Spoon or pipe into serving cups and sprinkle with cocoa powder

6. Serve room temperature or (preferably) chilled

"Pregnancy Brain" Cake Batter Ice Cream Popsicles

Some of my readers are probably familiar with the phenomenon of "pregnancy brain"-- the unexplained inability to complete even basic tasks without encountering moments of complete mental blankness. For those of you who are not, think stopping at green lights, signing your maiden name four years into marriage, turning on the wrong burner and starting fires, etc. 

One of the symptoms of pregnancy brain is the inability to focus on even simple documents like bills or, in this case, recipes. Yesterday my husband forwarded me this delicious-sounding recipe from The Baking Robot (http://thebakingrobot.com/2014/05/06/cake-popsicles/) that apparently actually creates ice cream-based Popsicles with cake crumble and frosting cores. That is not, however the impression I got when I failed to read the recipe even remotely correctly. It wasn't until I went back to try to figure out why I was having to make so many adjustments that I realized how off-base I was. 

Fortunately, my lack of reading comprehension resulted in a happy accident of delicious proportions. And so, I give you...

One-Bowl Cake Batter Ice Cream Pops:

(Makes 12)

Ingredients:

-7 oz boxed cake mix (I chose Duncan Hines strawberry supreme)

-2 tbsp cake frosting (Pillsbury strawberry)

-1 pint softened ice cream (Ben & Jerry's vanilla)

-1/4 to 1/2 milk

-Sprinkles etc for texture, if desired

-Popsicle mold & sticks

Directions:

-Beat ingredients together in listed order in large mixing bowl until smooth and thin enough to slosh in the bowl

-Spoon or pour into Popsicle mold

-Push a stick 3/4 of the way down in each

- Freeze until solid. (6 hrs-overnight)

Enjoy! 

These are lighter & more airy than straight ice cream bars, and they would follow a large meal or a hot activity beautifully. I chose strawberry because I thought a fruity approach was best for the hot summer, but imagine all the combinations one could try: devil's food cake and dolce de leche ice cream, red velvet and creole cream cheese, Funfetti and cotton candy-- the list is endless!

Say Goodbye to Sophie: A Short Story about Frustration

    Sophie stood in front of the bathroom mirror, an array of supplies spread before her on the crowded counter top. Even the sink was occupied by small tubs of mineral face makeup, which she had earlier applied to create a smooth complexion and angular contours. She squinted and leaned close to the reflective surface, scrutinizing the dramatic, smoky eye she had just created. For good measure, she added a crescent of cheap, heavily glittered black powder to the outside corner of each eye. She brushed several layers of mascara onto the upper lashes and puckered her lips at herself in satisfaction.

     Next, the slim young woman took a step back from the mirror and admired her body. She wore only matching black lace panties and bra. Her breasts were pushed inwards and up, creating cleavage that would not otherwise be so pronounced. In the depths of this decolletage, Sophie brushed a generous amount of shimmering body powder. After inspecting the effect, she liberally swiped the glittering powder brush along her clavicles and down her arms. She then sprinkled loose body glitter over her shoulders and rubbed it along her lower back. She rummaged through a drawer filled with half-full perfume bottles and settled on a tall, frosted glass container. It contained a sharp, citrus scent that Sophie had been told on several occasions was uniquely suited to her. She spritzed this scent onto her chest, lower back, and neck. On second thought, she added dabs to her thighs, stomach, butt, and shoulder blades-- anywhere that may end up pressed into his 800-thread-count sheets.

    Her long, raven hair still hung loose around her shoulders, and while this was the look Sophie preferred for herself, she knew it would not do, today. She swept the thick, dark strands into a loose pony tail on top of her head and fastened it with a hair tie. Then using tens, hundreds of tiny bobby pins, she secured the long, loose hairs into a perfect princess bun. The short hairs that framed her face were swept back behind her ear and pinned into place. She tilted her head this way and that, ensuring that every angle looked just right. She sucked in her cheeks and placed a makeup brush from the counter between her teeth like a cigarette holder, fake inhaling. She blew imaginary smoke into the mirror, doing her best Holly Golightly impression.

    Glancing at the cell phone she had placed on the back of the toilet, Sophie realized it was nearly time to go. Quickly, she shrugged into a black cocktail dress and stepped into worn, red pumps. She sprayed one last cloud of perfume in front of her and stepped through it while she gathered her things from the bathroom and threw them into a small Coach handbag. Finally, running only a tiny bit late, she strolled out the door, slithered into her beat up old Honda, and began the familiar drive to his uptown condo.

   The sex was the same as always; Sophie spent much of the time with her face pushed into a pillow as he sweated and grunted above her, but ultimately she felt mostly satisfied. Now, they lay naked in bed as he smoked a cigarette and she slowly pulled the bobby pins from her now-ruined bun. She was stacking the pins on the nightstand beside the bed, many slipping into the shadows of the woman's articles that clearly lived there full-time.

    "You really don't need all that makeup," he was saying patronizingly as he watched the hair fall around her smudged face. His penis was draped over his thigh revoltingly, looking as if it would make a mucky noise if you tried to unstick it. Sophie looked away. "You're a really beautiful girl," he went on, craning his head over his shoulder to blow smoke towards the window. "Mira didn't need it when I met her, either. She hardly ever wore it. I like natural beauties, I guess." He turned his back to ash in the coffee mug on his nightstand as Sophie shook her long dark hair out and let it fall down her back.

    "She needs it now though, right?" she asked sardonically.
    "Oh god, yes." he replied. "And tits swinging like you wouldn't believe. At least blondes go gray somewhat gracefully. I can still pretend she's not practically a grandma in the dark." He himself had gathered quite a bit of gray hair on the sides since Sophie had begun seeing him, and his hairline seemed to have receded.
   "You're not so fresh, either," she said, but he ignored her as he lit another cigarette.

   Sophie was now occupied with combing her fingers through her long locks. Strands of near-black came out in her fingers and fell onto the sheets and pillowcase. She watched with mild interest as many fell between the mattress and the headboard. One snagged in the ornate detail carved into the bedpost and fluttered softly in the gentle breeze of the ceiling fan. His phone vibrated jarringly and caused them both to snap to attention. He looked at the screen and sighed as if he had just learned that he was being called into work on a Sunday morning. Placing one finger to his lips, he swiped the screen to answer.

    "Hello? Yes, dear. Home... I told you I was working from home today because Amir is out of the office all week because of San Francisco... Yes I did," he rolled his eyes spectacularly in Sophie's direction, but she was not looking his way. She was watching the way body glitter was falling into the cracks on a patch of mattress that had been exposed during their intercourse as she rubbed his sweat from her chest and shoulder. "I thought you said you wouldn't be home until later tonight?" he snapped into the phone. "Fine, fine. I'll see you soon then. Yes. You too." He hung up and sighed again.

   "Mira is coming home soon."
   "Yes, I figured that much out," Sophie replied as she gave her left arm a final brush and shook her hair, causing it to fall onto her chest. "I guess I better go, then."
   "Yeah, I'm sorry. I thought we'd have more time today. Next time we can go out and do something, your choice."
   Sophie slipped back into her underwear and slid her dress over her head. She steeled herself, turned to him, and asked one last time. "When are you going to leave her?"
   This time he didn't sigh so much as scoff. "I've told you a million times, Soph, it's not that simple. I have to protect my financial interests and my family. It's very complicated when you get marriage involved. If you'd just be patient--"
   "I know, I know. Just asking," she replied as she sat on the bed to slip on the old, red shoes. "Anyway, it was nice to see you. I'll see you around."
   "Listen, as soon as we can, we'll go out and get some drinks and see a show or something. K? Look, don't be mad."
   "I think I'm actually going away for a while, so I'll call you. Don't call me, ok? I'll see ya."

   And with that, Sophie gathered up most of her things and walked out of his life. As she drove home, radio silent, she found herself laughing uncontrollably; She hadn't felt so free in a long, long time.
   
 

 

Nutella And Banana Stuffed King Cake with Peanut Butter Glaze

Since Carnival season is nearly 2 months long this year, we all have an obscene amount of time to try out amazing king cake flavors we might not have considered in a more restrictive time line. As a result, and with the help of the incredible KitchenAid stand mixer my always-thoughtful husband got me for Christmas, I have jumped right in. Yesterday, craving something sweet and salty, I decided to play with the classic peanut butter/chocolate combination, and throw in some fruit for, er, health... The result is delicious but not overly rich, and the recipe is below.

Ingredients

For dough:

1/4 oz packet of yeast

1/2 cup hot water

1/2 cup warm milk

1 tsp salt

1 lg, cold egg

1/3 cup melted butter

4-5 c flour (I use all purpose, bread flour works, too)

For filling:

6-10 tbsp nutella

2 bananas

Brown sugar

For glaze:

4 tbsp hot water

1-2 c confectioners sugar

1-2 tbsp smooth peanut butter

Process:

First, you must make the dough. **The most important and problematic part of this entire recipe is making 100% sure that your yeast activates and your dough rises properly. I heat a mug of water to boiling and put it in the microwave with both my yeast and later my bowl of dough after kneading.**

--First, combine the packet of yeast and the 1/2c hot water and place in a warm place to activate, such as above-mentioned (off) microwave

--Combine milk, butter, salt, egg, and 1-2c flour in stand mixer or large bowl w/hand mixer until smooth and not splashing

--Add yeast mixture (make sure it is bubbling or frothy)

--Continue to add flour until the dough can be handled without sticking to your fingers. (Usually 4-5 c total)

-- Take dough out and knead on floured surface 5 mins until elastic (You can also use dough hooks to knead, but I like to get my hands involved in this stage). Add flour as you knead if stickiness arises. 

-- When dough is smooth and elastic, roll into a ball and place in an oiled, large bowl (dough will double, plan accordingly). Flip dough once so both sides are greased, cover with towel, and place in warm spot. (An oven w/ a pot of boiled water is also great)

--Let rise until doubled in size, about one hour
**If your dough does not rise properly (you'll know), you can fix it! Don't start over. There are a few strategies to reseed yeast. I do 1/8 oz yeast in 1/4 cup hot water, activate, and knead that slop thoroughly into the dough, adding flour. It's messy but effective. Then you have to wait another hour.**

--When dough has doubled, punch down into bowl, and take it out onto a clear, floured surface. Roll into a 17in x 9in(ish) rectangle. It should be about 1/2in thick

--Spoon ample amt of nutella along the length of the center of the rectangle

--Cut bananas in half lenth-wise and slice 1/4 in thick. Sprinkle on top of nutella

--Sprinkle brown sugar over bananas

--Brush egg wash, oil, or water along one long edge of the dough, and roll the other edge over to come to rest on the oiled edge, forming a tube with filling in the middle. Pinch edges together

--Pull ends of the roll together to make a circle and pinch them together. Transfer the circle to a baking sheet (greased or lined with parchment paper)

--Heat oven to 350 and allow dough to double again, about 40mins

--Once risen, bake 30 mins or until golden and outside stands up to light flicking

--Make glaze: combine whatever ratio of confectioner's sugar, peanut butter, and hot water gives you the texture you desire. I like mine thick and use about 1 1/2 c sugar, 2 tbsp peanut butter, and 4 tbsp water

-spoon glaze over slightly cooled cake and sprinkle with confectioner's sugar, if desired

Cut in slices and Enjoy! (You can pop a pecan, bean, or plastic baby through the bottom after baking if you so desire)