nourishing & unapologetic
Born Daily is back in the kitchen.
I'll be honest, I've never left. My clothes know it and my thighs show it. But... in the name of butter and good karma, I'll take it for the team.
Shamefully, I've not shared any of my latest culinary happenings.
I've had a few people ask recently if I'd be returning to the tastier and more style sides of this space. And, that's a resounding YES. I love y'all and I love yapping my trap. So, there's more to come on this here blog.
What better way to get back in the groove then at the kickoff of the holiday baking season? I've got 12 recipes that I think are perfect for Santa's plate, your family gatherings, and that work party. All of these recipes I've made (sometimes more than once) but failed you with snagging my own pictures of some of them. All original recipe sources/authors are credited and linked.
Going in particular order, because -- I play favorites:
12. Frosted Cranberry Orange Drop Cookies
These cookies are all things winter in one bite -- tart cranberries and bright winter citrus with the indulgence of cream cheese frosting.
They're simple to make but pretty enough for a party. Taste of Home has a winner in these!
And, fun fact, I took third place in my company's Fall Festival dessert contest with 'em.
11. No Fuss Pie Crust
Secret: I pretty much only like pie if it's ice cream or chocolate. I think it's because pie crust frustrates me. Impatience is the root of all my frustration and not the pie crust but I digress. So, when I saw this recipe on Pinterest that heralded "no butter, no chilling, no rolling," my interest was piqued. And I did exactly what you shouldn't do -- busted out a new recipe for Thanksgiving. Much to my surprise, this pie crust held up its claims. It was easy. It was quick. It was pretty dang good.
The Country Cook calls this Wham Bam Pie Crust, all I can say is thank you, ma'am!
TIME FOR PIE
10. French Silk Pie
Just above I confessed chocolate pie is one of my one and only likes in pie form. And this recipe is the sole reason why. Ree Drummond, aka The Pioneer Woman, held nothing back with this one. It is dreamy, creamy, and actually really easy. I found this originally in her cookbook, but it's also online on her blog, and mine too.
WHIP THIS UP
9. Sugar Cookie Bars
Growing up sugar cookies were my least favorite cookie, like lowest on the list. But I've grown to like them... especially these sugar cookie bars that will win about anyone over. They come together quickly but are rich and memorable. Plus, they're easy to make festive with a few drops of food coloring or sprinkles.
8. Brownie Crinkles
You don't have to read past 'brownie.' But if you do, I'll tell you it gets better because they're gooey and dusted with powdered sugar. There are several variations of these -- some from scratch and others from boxed brownies. Because I am generally baking a ton of things at once, I opt for the box mix version. Cincy Shopper has a great one.
7. Pumpkin Cream Pie
Pumpkin pie purists, you might what to skip this one. But if you're open to spicing up your pumpkin pie, make this one from Lauren's Latest. It is unexpectedly delicious. It's creamy like it's name but it's still so full of flavor. And trust me, making the homemade whipped cream is a MUST.
SPICE IT UP
I'm a sucker with anything 'doodle.' That's a given. But these cookies, from Averie Cooks, are a classic mash-up of molasses cookies, gingersnaps and snickerdoodles. They are soft; the molasses carries them through, and the sugar coating put them over the top. You think you're not going to like them and then they'll steal the attention on any cookie platter.
5. Buried Cherry Cookies
If there's one cookie I've eaten my weight in during my lifetime so far, it's this cookie. It's from a cookbook that my parents have had for umpteen years at this point. I'm linking a recipe from Taste of Home because I know it matches. They're not fancy and they're not for everyone. But if you like cherries and chocolate, you don't want to miss this one. They are a teeny bit messy but I promise they're worth it.
4. Caramel Cheesecake Bars
Holidays give us a reason to celebrate the richness and indulgences of the season, right? These are your answer to that. They are classic cheesecake bars COVERED in a homemade caramel sauce. You can cut them small because they are a lot extra, plus everyone will want a bite. Six Sisters' Stuff knocked it out of the park with these.
SWEET TOOTH FIX
3. Peanut Butter Balls
A candy maker I am not. But these peanut butter balls will impress anyone. And if you are a Reese's fan, this recipe gets you pretty darn close. This will become a regular in your treat rotation.
MAKE A CLASSIC
2. Orange Marmalade Muffins
I know, I know, a muffin?! But let me continue because these muffins are one-hundred-percent amazing. I've been making these muffins for ten years now. Seriously, they are that good. The buttermilk is secret ingredient and makes them so, so tender. You're welcome; you just found your Christmas morning breakfast.
I can't find a recipe online so I'm listing my copy here:
1. Cannoli Cookies
Saved the absolute best for last. These are Nick's favorite cookie of all time. They seem a bit fussy but they're rich in all the best ways. And a cookie sandwich just amps up the appeal. Take the time to make these. Use the real ingredients. And, follow the directions. Normally I am not a stickler but just do it just like the recipe and you'll be rewarded.
CANNOLI FOR CHRISTMAS
Let me know what you make and love. I'll be back soon with a savory edition too. And, if you have any can't miss holiday favorites, drop them in the comments for me.
Until next time--
One year ago today, on November 6th, our miscarriage was final. At eleven weeks, and o-dark-thirty in the morning, we headed to the hospital for our D&C. Our missed miscarriage meant surgery was a must. And just before lunchtime, we were done, headed to the store for my prescription and ice cream (both necessary medications!). It all seemed so simple and final.
Except, it wasn't either of those things.
So as I sit here the day before this anniversary, writing this blog, and reflecting on my lunch hour, there's so much I can say now. You see it's like that, that right there -- writing this on my lunch hour -- miscarriage just lives with you in the little spaces of life while simultaneously creating chasms in our normal.
One year out, here's what miscarriage, especially after infertility, teaches you:
Before you barf from the banality of this, walk with me on this one. We all know empathy is a critical skill, especially if you work and live among other human beings on Earth.
After our first miscarriage post, I have heard from so many women who've experienced infertility, loss, or both. Each time, I could almost feel my heart physically grow a bit more and my expression and stance towards them soften. Now when I interact with them there's a depth to that relationship that wasn't there before. And, while you'll still be annoyed when someone with one or two (or more) children is complaining, about not being able to have one more, you'll now know that feeling of yearning and your heart will go to them. Or when someone who is just barely married gets pregnant on their honeymoon but loses that sweet babe, you won't minimize the loss just because they got pregnant easily. Because everyone has a hard; the hard is just different.
Keep in mind, empathy isn't one note. It is just shared understanding of feelings, whether they be sad, frustrating, or joyous, albeit we often associate it with the sad or tragic. In general, instead of hardening your heart and rooting in bitterness, you'll likely find yourself more often being willing to try to relate to someone or a situation more instead of just judging or condemning.
You won't be empathetic about everything. You won't feel personal connections with everyone. Sometimes sympathy is enough, and there's nothing wrong with sympathy. But empathy- it's what binds us closer. And when there's a hole in your heart, empathy is a salve.
Patience ins't my virtue. Except now, I think I am working on sainthood status with this quality. Must be all this practice I've gotten.
If you detect /s (that's sarcasm in internet speak), you're not wrong. We're a year older and a year removed, and still have empty arms. We still don't have an explanation for our infertility. And, we still don't have a definite plan for how we'll proceed other than being stubborn and waiting.
I struggle, but I do genuinely believe this journey provides you a lesson in patience. It allows you the opportunity to practice waiting and not rushing. And, in reality, you have no choice but to try and do so.
The waiting can provide time to prepare more (financially, emotionally, physically). Although, I hear you're never truly prepared.
The waiting can provide time to do more (travel, start a side hustle, binge-watch trash tv, do house projects). And do them with no shame or guilt.
The waiting can provide time to talk more about what you want to be as a parent. Earnestly, not just the "we'll never's" that we'll totally do at some point.
The waiting can provide time to dream bigger dreams for you, your marriage, and that future babe. Be bold and ask.
We're told all the time "the best things take time." And boy, if you're putting in your time, I know this feels like an eternity. But, this adage isn't wrong. So give the grace you give everyone else to yourself and just be. The plan, the answer, the rainbow...it's coming. I have to believe, when the conditions are right, patience will pay off.
Grief comes in waves. It doesn't disappear. It just changes. And it will surprise you.
This weekend, someone asked me how many miscarriages we had had. I responded "just one."
Just one. WHAT? Why did I say that? Excuse me, one is enough. One is too many. One is still devastating. One is still heartbreaking. One is still worthy of grief. I felt immediately guilty and ruminated on it for minimizing our one experience. The other person didn't think much about that answer probably, but maybe she did; I am not sure. I am still working through that minimization. But this is part of grief. The moving forward process is messy.
I have been sad at inopportune times. I've been mad at insignificant instances. I have been gutted by baby coupons in our mailbox. But, overall I've been determined to exercise bravery and positivity. Some might think these posts are me dwelling on our misfortune or that I'm just a complete downer. Some might think if I'd just stop talking about them, my heart would heal and I'd move on. But, guess what, writing these blog posts are part of what is healing my heart. It's providing an outlet to process feelings but also giving me a way to connect with others. (See point 4). Writing has always been a safe space for me. Plus, I am advocate for transparency, even in the hard stuff. And speaking into the hard stuff removes its power and allows us to use it as fuel for better. If these posts make you uncomfortable or sad, then by all means, don't read them.
Your grief journey will be different than mine. You might need to eat the whole sleeve of Oreos. You might need to train for a half-marathon. You might need to not leave the bed for a week (or longer). You might need to go to work the next day and pretend nothing happened. You might need to quit your job. You might need to cry at every baby announcement and diaper commercial. You might need to give up social media. And you might need to do all of these things at some point. Or you might do none of these. But, let it be known, and understood, your grief is yours to process. And, you must let it happen. But, also let it be know, you don't have to grieve alone (Again, see point 4).
1 in 4. 1 in 8. These aren't just statistics. These are people. REAL PEOPLE. They are YOU and ME. And, good golly, these people are amazing. I wasn't looking to join this tribe. I wasn't looking for a new label. I wasn't looking for any of this. But, this loss and this struggle can be isolating, yet they don't have to be because there are a freaking ton of people who know this path. I was astounded by the sheer number of people who reached out to support and still so many more that shared their version of this struggle or this loss, or both.
The sense of community is unimaginable. You're in the club now. So I'd like you to join me. Let's make the most of the membership you and I paid a high price for. And, even if you're generally a private person, you're probably going to find yourself sharing. So: SHARE. TALK ABOUT IT. AND TALK SO MORE. Do it for your sake. The memories will slip out. The dashed hopes will be verbalized. The loss is going to be magnified and realized. But, if you lean into this loss, you'll find the ladies and gents who are holding you up. And, to be honest, they might not even know they're contributing to your healing. But it's the kindest and strongest band of mommas and crew you couldn't even dream up. To give you a glimpse of who you'll likely find in this community:
Being thankful for a miscarriage isn't what I'm talking about. No one is ever thankful for this experience, of that I am pretty certain. But I am grateful for the ability to weather this experience and for the person it's making me. Gratitude is personal so I can't begin to tell you that you'll be thankful for anything or that you have to be.
But for me, I've got some stuff for which I am appreciative. This journey, it's fortifying my constitution and my faith. This has shown me a different side of humanity, one that is vulnerable. And frankly, flying in the face of logic, it's probably made me more positive then I was before. Dad's lessons of PMA (positive mental attitude) hit home thirty-two years later. I also think it gave me a good dose of perspective -- I take fewer things for granted than I did previously. And, I am grateful for the extra unexpected time it's given Nick and I as just husband and wife. I wouldn't want what we've gone through for more time, but we're, for all intents and purposes, better than we were a year ago.
And, while we're on the subject of husbands... soap box moment ... I am blessed with the best. I think I always knew that but nothing reinforces that more than something like this. Nick has been at my side for everything. He made sure we could come home to our new home after the procedure last year because I wanted solitude in what would be our family home. (Reminder, he was building our house, with his own two hands last year during all of this.) He didn't hesitate to make a mad dash to IKEA to get a bedroom set and assemble it, or baulk about bringing our lives into a construction zone and living in it from then on. He's grieved in his own way (and similarly in some respects too). He's been eternally positive and an example of quiet resolve that I've consistently drawn from. Thank you, husband. xo
My hope, if this is your path too, is that you have this in your life. If you do, please take a moment to appreciate your spouse.
You have strength you didn't know you needed. You will soldier on. You will laugh again. You will cry at something small or arbitrary. You will be able to look at someone all too well meaning in the face and say, "yes, thank you, I know about ovulation trackers" or "no, adoption isn't part of our plan right now, but thanks for reminding me of the options." and not break down. You will be to see each day through because life moves fast and participation is required. And, if for nothing else, because you've got mom/dad strength now. And from what I hear, and see, parents just 👏 get 👏stuff👏done.
Blessed are the distractions for they get you through the days.
This might look like: Laundry. Cleaning the toilet. Grocery runs. Niece and nephew school programs. Work. Pets. Instagram. Netflix. Vacation. You'll find yours (or the many) and let them happen. Make peace with the ordinary. Don't feel guilty for getting lost in something non-loss or baby-related. It might just be during this time, you find your heart taking a necessary breather and you begin to feel a bit more human again.
If everything is important, nothing is. This is my most recent revelation. Earth-shattering, right? Oh, wait, I mean, basic. Right? Well, either way... I tend to have my fingers in everything. That candle of mine is always lit at every end. Dinner at 10 or 11 is normal, yeah?
And, word to the masses, if you want to message me and tell me the all too helpful advice that stress can impede pregnancy or cause less than ideal circumstances for a babe, bless your heart and save it. You can't do it for me.
But in this last year, I kind of immersed myself in more. My constant going has almost worn me flat out. And I realize I don't want to do that any longer. So I am taking stock of where my heart wants to be, what I want to expend my energies on, and what I want to do to get me to where I want to go next. I want to live by WANT or GET TO not SHOULD. So, it's on. Here comes quality > quantity. That planner is going to look different in 2019.
My wish for you is that you grant yourself the permission to do the same. Say yes to what makes your heart leap and say no to the things that feel like obligations. Nothing weighs one down more than the should's. Plus, I hear that your priorities are totally rearranged once a babe lands in your lap, so a little practice now can't hurt.
Undoubtedly, life teaches us lessons. For me, and for many others, miscarriage is just one of them. But intermixed are so many others. I guess this notion of being a lifelong learner thing is really a thing.
Until next time, may you keep holding on to hope and slaying stigma.