Mommin’ Ain’t Easy

“Friendship…is born at the moment when one person says to another: “What!  You too?  I thought I was the only one.” ~ C.S. Lewis

Bless the moms who always look fantastic and put together, who’s doting kids always appear to listen to their mother’s calm requests with a polite smile on their faces, and who’s children are grateful for every minor correction given by all-knowing parents, as if they know that their momma truly does know best.  Bless them.

The perfect moment captured.

If you were to catch a glimpse of me on the right day, at exactly the right moment, when the wind is blowing just right, and the world (aka the two boys) seems in sync, you may think I am one of these unicorns.

However, let me assure you my friends that I am not.

On my best day I am like the mom equivalent of a mullet – perfectly manicured in the front, hair on fire in the back.

In my short two-and-a-half years as a mother, I have learned that in fact, there are no unicorns.  There is no perfect mother with perfectly behaved kids.  That perfectly put together mother with her well-behaved children I see at the grocery store, soccer practice, and at daycare pick up – she’s right there in the trenches too.  I just happened to catch her at just the right moment.  And you know what, that’s why when I see that mom, I give her a nod as if to say, “Sister, I know what it took to get here like that.  You go girl.”  Then my face likely reflects a tinge of longing as I thing, “Tell me your secret.”

The behind-the-scenes captured

However, despite the craziness, the mom-buns, the dry-fit shirts (a new staple of my momiform here in Birmingham), and the suitcases under my eyes, I wouldn’t trade being a mom for all the perfect and/or quiet moments in the world.

But mommin’ ain’t easy.  It isn’t for the faint of heart.  That’s why we need friends.  We need friends who we can join with, share with, be in the trenches with, and laugh with.

I’ve always loved the above C.S. Lewis quote.  But, I treasure it as a mom.

Whether it is a co-worker, a fellow soccer mom, or your favorite blogger, there is nothing more reassuring or encouraging as a mom than when you hear or read something that makes you say, “What? You too?  I thought I was the only one!”

There is strength in numbers ladies.

That’s why I am so thrilled and honored to join the fabulous team of ladies at the Birmingham Moms Blog as a contributor.

Check out the introduction post to read a little more about how we got to Birmingham, my career change, and what the true meaning is behind the saying, “it takes a village to raise a child.”

The posts will include some local flavor as the boys and I explore our new home here in the Magic City.  However, I hope to also relay those universal moments we all have as moms in the trenches – the ones that make us laugh, cry, and everything in between.   So be encouraged mama – no matter where you are, you are not the only one.

 

Watch Out Children…You Never Know What Might be Lurking in the Dark

Monsters are never as cute as they look in the pictures

What’s your favorite memory of summer?

Does it involve the lake?  A beach perhaps?  Does summer conjure up images of family, swimming, warm sunny days and lazy nights?

For me…one of the most vivid memories of summer for me revolves around…a monster.

This is not a hide under your bed monster or one that stays confined to the closet in your room.  No, this one roams in the dark and strikes unexpectedly, to the exact place you feel safest…family vacation.

No children, you are not safe.

I was asked to be a part of Ashley’s series, A Childhood Summer, where she asked people to recount their childhood memories of summer.  I decided it was time to break the silence 😉

Check out my guest post here.

What’s your favorite memory of summer?

Learning How to Write from Children’s Books

At my former life, as a children’s publicist for a publishing company, I would sometimes receive manuscripts in the mail from hopefully writers who desperately wanted to realize their dream of being published.

So many people have mentioned how easy it must be to write a children’s book.  I whole-heartedly disagree.  It takes a real author, an accomplished writer to write a true children’s book, one that captures the imagination and will be passed down to generation after generation.

Think about it, not many writers can use a sparing amount of words to bring across a lesson or story.  This is why when one of my friends, Nate, asked me to be a guest editor on his blog for a post on learning how to write from children’s books, I jumped at the chance.

Much like Nate, I have also been fascinated by children’s books.  I have always loved books and as a writer myself, the talent it takes to write a good children’s book has always been something I am in awe of.  I have my own collection of my favorite children’s books and it continues to grow as I travel and check out interesting new book stores always snagging my favorite children’s book by a local author.

As Nate talks about, writing is intimate, especially children’s books.  For each person it’s different, but there is always someone in mind when you write.

I love how it also begs the question, “Who are you writing for?”

See what Stephen King has to say on that subject and read Nate’s great observations of what we can all learn about writing from these bite sized page turners.  Nate and I worked at the college paper together when I was editor and it was so fun to collaborate with him again!

Learning how to write from children’s books.

What have you learned from reading children’s books?  Who do you write for?

Find Your Adventure

I recently finished a project at work where I interviewed a handful of human resource professionals and hiring managers about the recession’s impact on young adults.

For almost two years the economy has paralyzed recent graduates. Many have been forced to rethink their futures and alter their expectations. Some have found new interests; others won’t give up their dreams. Almost all are following an unexpected path down an uncertain road. Seeing this fallout, experts considered what they might tell teens preparing to enter college.

Their advice: Get a degree of value.
My advice: Follow your passion.

Don’t get me wrong; their advice makes sense. In a time of devastating unemployment, when so many college graduates are without jobs, an accounting or nursing degree appears more likely to lead to a stable job than a degree in history or sociology.

 That said, I can’t overlook my own experiences.

Yes, I graduated in a better economic time. But I don’t think it was the soaring Dow or the booming real estate business that landed me my dream job. I think it was my genuine enthusiasm for the degree I chose to pursue and the profession that I hoped to become a part of – journalism.

For as long as I can remember passion is what my parents preached. Both are professionals with advanced degrees (one is a biomedical engineer with a master’s, the other is a physical therapist with a PhD).

Still, as I prepared to head off for college and tried to decide on a major, my parents didn’t focus on a future of touting intellect or chasing wealth. Their consistent message was to pursue something I loved. If I loved what I did, they said, there would never be any question of my success. My passion would propel me to learn, and grow, and excel.

At the time, only some of their message resonated; part of me just heard another in a litany of parental lectures. But if I had one passion it was writing, and with my parents’ support I chose to pursue the creative, low paying, some may say now-dying profession of journalism.

It was the right choice.

People fascinate me. Everyone has a story to tell and uncovering the intricacies of their lives is like opening a new book every day. Journalism offered me the opportunity to use my words to share those people’s experiences with others, while perhaps also offering some insight, education or entertainment.

My enthusiasm for that opportunity came through in my studies, my internship performance, and my job interviews. There is no doubt in my mind that passion is what secured the job offer I received almost eight years ago at The Tennessean.

Now, I work with words for a living. I paint images with nouns and verbs. I impart smells and sounds through similes and metaphors. I capture facts and feelings and put them on paper. And I LOVE it.

It is rare that I wake up on a Monday morning not looking forward to the work week. Every day is a new adventure. So I say to you, find your adventure. Embrace your passion.

 — JESSICA BLISS

***

 

Last summer when JBliss and I did the Muddy Buddy. This is the Before.

JBliss went to Greendale High School in Greendale, Wisconsin (a southern suburb of Milwaukee).  Past that, J didn’t send me a bio which means I get to write hers. 

A former sports writer for The Tennessean, J now finds herself in the lifestyle section.  Let me just say this, as a journalism major myself, I was drawn to J and her writing style.  So much so that I decided to get a subscription to The Tennessean.  I always wanted to be one of those people who woke up in the morning, started the coffee and headed out to get the paper at the end of the walk.  I have so enjoyed reading J’s stories.  She knows a good story. She knows how to connect with people to bring it out.  To read some of her amazing writing, start here. 

And the After...

Beyond just writing, J loves everything outdoor and constantly gives back.  I met J through Girls on the Run Nashville a fantastic organization made up of an inspring group of people.  J heads up the thing and I have never seen such drive and passion.  She walks the talk and as someone who’s parents also preached passion, it’s invigorating to see that following yours actually works! J excells at everything she loves, running, friendships, writing and volunteering.  She is a great friend of mine, makes me laugh and someone I deeply respect and admire.  She was one of the first people I told about law school and has been one of my greatest supporters since.  Everytime I get nervous she is there cheering me on reminding me to follow my passion. 

There is also a  Baby Bliss on the way which I couldn’t be happier about! She is going to be such a great mother.  I’ve lost my morning running buddy for now but I know we will be running together soon with the stroller in tow when I come back into town. 

About this series: This is one of  a series of guest posts in May that will run every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

Weekends are for (food)lovers- Satisfying the Southern Palate

“For those of us who live to eat, these are hopeful times.” ~John T. Edge

Oxford American- Love this photo.

A week ago, I was given a gift by a new friend, a copy of Oxford American.  He told me about it awhile ago before one of our East Nasty runs, saying that within the pages of this magazine was some of his favorite writing.  The latest issue was about food and after seeing that 1- I love food and 2- I love to write about food, he thought it would be right up my alley.

After two weeks, and not being able to find a copy for sale, last weekend as I hobbled back to my car after the 20 mile run that did me in last weekend, I found something pinned beneath my windshield wiper. It was a copy of the Oxford American.

Honestly, is there any better gift than a loaned book/magazine from someone who has handpicked that title with you in mind?

“Oxford American: The Southern magazine of good writing, proudly published from the University of Central Arkansas.”

Hmmm.

“With guest editor, John T. Edge,” the cover went on to reveal. Interesting.  Now, I hate to admit it but I had no idea what to expect from a literary magazine published in Central Alabama about Southern cooking.  I don’t like grits, I have never had collard greens and won’t touch fried green tomatoes (you can tell that my knowledge of “southern” food is hardly developed) and didn’t particularly care to read about them.  However, I have long been a fan of John T. Edge, from his column in the New York Times, NPR’s All Things Considered, and guest spots in Gourmet to his books, and since it had come highly recommended, I decided to take a bite.

Douglas Bourgeois "Refrigerator"

Eat dessert first right? That’s my motto. The first course was an article my friend marked for me titled, People of the Cake, by Diane Roberts. I was smitten. The writing was brilliant, mouthwatering and refreshing.

Article by article, I devoured the whole thing.

How silly of me to scoff and think as a girl who grew up in Pittsburgh, raised on bagels, pasta, pirogies and subs, I wouldn’t enjoy this.  I loved this magazine for the very same reasons that I have come to love the South.  These essays weren’t just about food, they were about the people and stories behind them.  These writers masterfully wove religion, rich tradition, cooking, humor and grace together in a way only a Southern writer could.

“If the recipe says fresh coconut, don’t you dare use that stuff in a bag. Suffering for your cake builds character. (We are Presbyterians after all.)” –Diane Roberts in People of the Cake

These writers reminded me not just why I have loved cooking, but writing.

I read the articles a little slower and enjoyed it a little more, experiencing trademark Southern hospitality as these writers welcomed me into their world:

Would you tattoo this on yourself? Kevin Gillespie did.

-Warwick Sabin exposes the dark side of Southern cuisine as fresh local food becomes a luxury item forcing many to go for the mass produced affordable calories instead of fresh produce that are the building blocks of Southern food.

-Jack Pendarvis writes about his favorite local hang with the best food around- Chevron, the one south of the courthouse responsible for serving up chicken on a stick, and how it was ruined once the secret got out.  We’ve all been there, I bet you are thinking of your favorite place right now, just like I am, that you only tell your closest friends about for fear it will ruin the magic.

-Mamie Morgan recants her and her boyfriend saving all their spare change to go to one of their favorite restaurants on New Years, with chef Kevin Gillespie, and how certain chefs and their food much like bands and their music, speak to us. What chef speaks your language?

Nashville's own Olive Sinclair

These stories join others about the array of people and personalities that make up a restaurant, tales of homemade beef jerky, geophagy, or in layman’s terms- eating dirt, the mysterious origins of New Orleans cuisine, and even an ode to Oregano.

Nashville’s own Olive Sinclair is featured as well as a brewery in Durham, North Carolina who’s mission is to “brew farmhouse ales that celebrate the culinary and agricultural  heritage of the South.” But these deserve their own posts so I don’t want to spoil it.

All of that said, I will be subscribing to Oxford American soon and I encourage anyone who loves good writing to do the same. Reading the Oxford American prompted me to do some cooking this weekend when I wasn’t sitting out in the sun so I’ll post those tomorrow.  Until then, I leave you with Diane Roberts’ mother’s recipe for Sour Cream Pound Cake, “the cake she’d make for people who do nice things.” Now if that’s not Southern, I don’t know what is!

The sign of Southern hospitality

Ingredients
-2 sticks of butter, softened
-3 cups white sugar
-8 eggs, seperated
-1 cup sour cream
-3 cups cake flour
-1/2 tsp salt
-1 tsp baking soda
-1  1/2 tsp good vanilla extract

Directions
-Preheat oven to 325.
-Grease a tube pan and sugar the edges.
-Cream butter and two cups of sugar until fluffy. While that’s beating, use hand mixer to mix egg whites.
-Add third cup of sugar and continue whipping until they form stiff peaks.
-Add egg yolks, one at a time, to butter and sugar. Beat well.
– Sift the flour, salt, and soda together.
-Add, alternating wet and dry ingredients, the flour mix and the sour cream. Mix well.
-Add vanilla, then fold in the egg whites.
-Bake 60-90 minutes until skewer comes out clean.
-Cool 10-15 minutes and turn out on a plate.