Yahtzee!

Growing up, my Mother played Yahtzee and Solitaire – all the time. She was in constant competition with herself to improve her scores – or just bored. I like to think it was the first of the two. She keeps each score sheet, filling in blank columns as she goes. It's like a Who's Who of visitors of our home. It's sweet and I wouldn't change a thing.

So, when Micah and Liz busted out the Yahtzee for our Friendsgiving this year, it touched my nostalgic, homesick heart. We played many rounds learning Liz’s family’s takes on it and enjoying the sweet, hilarious company.

Life is a lot like Yahtzee, if you really think about it. Some days you’re just trying to get as many points as you can (the number section of the game), sometimes you just get stuck with a lot of junk that makes up a Chance and sometimes, well…you hit the big one – Yahtzee!

I like to think that Durham is our Yahtzee.

The messy part, four...

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I could share with you the horrors of Damn Clomid – the side effects, the out-of-my-mind madness, the mood swings, etc., but you can find out about all of that here. Basically, any side effect that there is, I had it. It’s hard to remember much of the Damn Clomid time because I truly didn’t feel like myself. My memory earmarks it due to dates: anniversary, 33rd birthday, Halloween, trips to visit clients and Thanksgiving. My main regrets with this medication is that one, time is precious and it was time wasted, and two, the long term effects are just not worth it. Enough about Damn Clomid…

We took a welcome break from medically trying from Thanksgiving to New Years and my goodness, it was wonderful! We made the decision to see one of Oklahoma’s highest regarded fertility specialist in January, there were no meds currently involved and let’s be honest, we were free to be merry as much as we chose (wine, happy hours, celebrations, food, relaxing).

January came sooner than expected, as it always does. We met with the doctor and loved his gentle nature, his supportive nurse and his game plan. As he put it, we were to enjoy being married and he’d worry about the baby stuff. Finally! Someone who understood what we were going through and was willing to carry our burden. Things were finally looking up. We deemed 2011 a year of change, excitement and happiness.

Part five: new year, new beginnings.

Stop and stare

Gazebo at Duke Gardens

Being in Durham allows us to stop and notice things. Our minds aren't filled with obligations or questions, rather possibilities and enchantment. It's rather lovely, really.

The messy part, three...

Source: inthesesmallmoments.com via Nichole on Pinterest

We didn’t feel the pressure to have children immediately following our wedding. I know so many people who are pressured from the get-go to expand their family.

Before getting married, we decided on our pre-baby bucket list – a year of marriage, buy a house and have stable jobs. It was simple enough and we were content. To be honest, the first two were the only our list initially and the job part came out of necessity, or fate, however you want to look at it.

You see, we were strolling along, enjoying married life and wham bam, life started changing quickly – illnesses, recession-based layoffs and the need to care for loved ones. Naturally, the layoff delayed our home purchase hunt and the caring for others just fit perfectly into this newly acquired free time. This layoff also led me to be available to accept my all-time dream job six months later. First came the job, a month later came the house.

So, job – check, house – check, year of marriage – check! We were good to go, good to “have a baby”. In the back of my mind, I thought we’d be pregnant quickly – three months tops. Three months passed quickly, then six, then nine.

With me being in my early thirties, my doctor advised us to meet with her after six months of trying – optimistically, we delayed until nine. I did so, where a lovely PA who knew nothing about me or my history examined me, gave me two prescriptions – Metformin and Clomid – and sent me on my way. She said, “That should do it. Have fun!”

Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you – there was nothing fun about Clomid. Damn Clomid, as I like to call it. This ride was about to turn unexpected. 

Part four: continuing the ride.

Changing seasons

The entrance of Duke Gardens this weekend.

It's hard to imagine that this is our life now - filled with trees of every sort, colors past the rainbow's edge and experiences that we cannot even imagine.

For the first time in my life, I do not have a plan. Usually, I know exactly what my month looks like, vaguely what my year ahead looks like and round-about what lies ahead. Now... now I've got nothing. I plan meals three days in advance, and that's it. I pick my outfits out each morning and couldn't tell you the last time I had a personal to-do list. I admit, I'm kind of digging it.

It feels like...less pressure. Like the changing colors of leaves - life is just happening and together, the Mr. and I are "leaning into it."

Thank you changing seasons and steadfast friend.

(more photos to post soon of our weekend adventure)

Roasted stuffed squash - all good adjectives

I’ll admit it – Durham is a town for foodies. The amazing fare is literally everywhere you turn and you cannot help but be inspired. I knew from the moment we arrived that no matter how tired we were on Saturday, we were going to the Durham Farmer’s Market for some fresh, local goodies.

Naturally, the Market didn’t disappoint. It has an abundance of all-things-local. Meaning, unlike some markets I’ve been to, it has to be locally produced. (Don’t you just hate it when people sell stuff from larger wholesale places?)

Our first DFM-bounty meal included roasted heirloom tomatoes and pasta – yum! It was good, no doubt, but the one below – it takes the cake!

Roasted, stuffed acorn squash with sausage, apples, cornbread & sweet potatoes

Recipe:
Acorn squashes: Our squashes were just a hair bigger than a baseball, so I allotted one whole squash per person. Usually, we make one half per person.

The fillings of your choice: Our favorite is lean sausage and apples. There’s something about the sage of the sausage and the sweet, tartness of the apples that mixes just right.

However, last night, I was HUNGRY, so I searched my pantry for a few more staples. Thankfully, I had cornbread left over from Saturday’s chili night* and a random (red) sweet potato that we purchased at the market.

Cut the squash in half and clean the pulp/seeds out. Lay skin side down on a cookie sheet or in a glass pan. Sprinkle (liberally) salt and pepper and brush with olive oil. Bake at 400 degrees until soft (20-35 minutes, depending on size). If you are going to add potatoes, peel and large dice the potatoes and add to the squash pan. Season the same as the squash.

While the squash bakes, brown three-quarters to one pound of sausage, making sure to really break it up so it is a small crumble. Set aside to cool.

Once the squash (and potatoes) is cooked, remove from the oven and allow to cool a bit. These puppies are going to be hot, hot, hot. Dice one green apple into Chicklet-sized pieces. Add sausage and apples to the pan (that you cooked the sausage in initially) and cook on medium-high for five minutes to warm through. Add ½ teaspoon of thyme (or Herbs de Provence, rosemary or your favorite savory spice) and 3 tablespoons of liquid (I used white cooking wine. You could use wine, apple juice or water) directly to the bottom of the pan, to create a steam and cook for three to five more minutes. Add potatoes and cornbread, stir to combine. Fill squashes and enjoy!

No, these aren’t cooked after they are stuffed, that’s more of a pretty-bowl-thing rather than a cooking vessel. If needed and you don’t want to scoop the squash out while eating, you could easily cook the squash, scoop it out and mix with your “stuffing” before eating it. Whatever floats your boat!

*Cornbread makes the best croutons and filler – and it’s cheap to boot! Cube cooked cornbread, spread it flat on a baking sheet and bake at 300 degrees until dried and crouton-like. I prefer mine to be soft on the inside, so I bake it 15-17 minutes. This “seals” the cornbread and makes it last longer. Try it out!

Twenty-three hours later.

The physical move from the middle of the United States to the East Coast is complete. It all seems like a blur really. It is impossible for me to recall the details of the drive that occurred just a week ago. It’s almost like the last week was so exhausting, so emotional, so intense that my brain has blocked it out. Funny how the brain hides things like that from you.

We’re taking the week to get settled in our new fabulous place. When we decided to move to Durham, we made a conscience effort to really make a 180-degree change from our current life in Oklahoma – from a new house in the suburbs to a 1900’s loft in the city.

I have to admit, so far…we’re digging it.

The messy part, two...

Source: punchfork.com via Natalie on Pinterest

Twenty-seven, 28, 29…the years started to creep up on me and disappear in a flash at the same time. I was enjoying life, living it up and treasuring every minute with a man I knew would be my husband, someday – even if I wasn’t ready to actually get married. Still, the thought quietly whispered in the back of my mind – Could I still have children? Would I be able to have children? 

I disregarded it mostly, thinking, “There’s one thing I am supposed to be in life and that’s a Mother. There’s positively no way that God would let me not be a Mom. Right?” 

I’ve known since I was a child that I was going to be a Mom. I was born with that Mom-gene that makes you desire to take care of everyone and everything, a desire to love everyone and everything, a compounding yearning to hold a child and look into the eyes of your own or your lover.

Just not yet…

Part three: Damn Clomid

Regret.

Source: None via Lauren on Pinterest

Regret. The only regrets I have are the moments when I don't follow my Grandfather's advice of "think before you speak." I must correct this because living with regret is a haunting disease of sadness - something I am trying to rid my life of. Life is too short to be sad, stupid or stale.

October nerves.

Source: bogley.com via Jamie on Pinterest

Time is flying by so quick. Part of me is excited, part is numb and part is afraid to be emotional. I know I just need to this move by the horns, but oh how I wish someone else would do so.

My to-do list for the week includes finalizing our home in RDU, selling the Mr's truck, visiting my Grandmother and finalizing insurance and safety box documents.

Time to knock it out...

Three years of love

"I love you, dear, more today than yesterday, but not as much as I’ll love you in a year. I am so thankful to have you as my wedded, life-long partner in crime. With you, I am a better person. You speed up my heart and slow down my anxious tendencies. You, my love, are an amazing example of a loving husband – always patient, always kind, always smiling. I look forward to living through the years with you." - Me

Gorgeous photo taken by Zach Nash, photographer extraordinaire.

The messy part, one...

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The first time I heard the word Endometriosis, I was 23 years old, a college graduate living the high life of bar hopping and summer nights filled with spontaneous outings. My wild red hair matched my sporty Camaro and my budding career introduced me to shopping sprees and high heels, my two natural loves. Endometriosis - I didn’t give much thought to it considering the numerous tests I’d already been through. Upper GI, lower GI, pelvic exams, x-rays for this, scans for that – you name it, I’d had it during the summer of 2000.

To my general doctor’s surprise, nothing came back with anything that could cause the considerable gut pains that I’d been experiencing. Nothing but high medical bills to show that I had a “clean bill of health” with a stomach ache to boot.

During my annual exam that August, my lady-parts doctor noticed the lengthy list of recent medical visits I had listed to the question, “Have you been seen by a doctor in the last year? If so, by what?” After discussing it briefly, you could clearly see that she had a hunch. She probed and pushed around on my lower abdomen/pelvic area and said the magic word – endometriosis. Within a week, I was scheduled for a laproscopy surgery. I honestly didn’t know what it was, nor did I mind. I’d had surgeries before and if my parents were on board, I knew it was safe. That’s the great thing about parents and youth, everything is safe and comforting.

After surgery, she informed me that she’d removed my appendix, which was corkscrewed to half its size (the cause of the gut pain), 13 ovarian cysts and the endometriosis tissue. I thought, “great, sounds good, see you next year,” with little thought given to that e word. I went about my business healing as needed and didn’t think about it until a friend of mine asked about my recent absence.

The first thing out of her mouth was, “You know you can’t have kids past 28 with that, right?” No, I didn’t. Besides, who cared? I was 23 with my first job at a local newspaper enjoying the high life of being in the wonderful world of advertising. Kids were a thing of my future and I was living in the carefree now. I’d worry about that later in life, a life that seemed ages away.

Part 2: The mess continues

Separated at birth

Source: None via Lindsay Alexandra on Pinterest

We fell in love with each other and New York City in the same year, at the same progression.

Our love affair started with two strangers sitting side-by-side, day-in day-out, dreaming over bigger things yet to come. It was our personal escape from the doldrums, mundane daily work of our jobs.

I’d look for apartments, he’d look for images. We’d share them with each other until finally, strangers became friends who became each other’s crushes who became lovers-for-life.

New York City is the defining item (and our love for it) that brought us together – so much so that we married in New York City, far away from our Midwestern lives and extended families.

This weekend, we watched (probably too much) 9/11 coverage and our hearts ached for the city that feels so much a part of us – to our very core. We are proud of it like a grown, younger sibling in its rebirth and renaissance. We ache for it like a lost friend we are separated from.

What’d I do with all of this ache? Booked a winter trip to visit our long lost friend, the city that never sleeps, of course.

If I close my eyes now and focus really hard, I can hear the city sounds. Can you?

Back to Dirty D

Source: google.com.au via Natalie on Pinterest

We're on our way back to Raleigh-Durham soon to look for our new home. I'm not sure if we're more excited about that or seeing Micah and Liz. Wish us luck!

Source: flickr.com via Natalie on Pinterest

Shift.

Source: weheartit.com via Grace on Pinterest

I'm going to pass the hell out. Seriously. Days like today, weeks like this week and the past month has kicked my butt - in regards to headaches. The pain is consuming, but what gets me the most is the fact that my brain is that of a 12 year old. I'm stuttering, spelling things crazy and hormonal to boot. If I could punch someone with no remorse, I would.

From the day my eight year old self came home from school telling Momma that my face was numb, this migraine-bearing woman has had it.

The internet, my friends and the docs say its due to a medication shift. A side effect of recent failed efforts.

So done with this shift.

Loco for pops

Source: brides.com via Natalie on Pinterest

I'm telling you, Popsicle are the new cupcake! It'll be interesting to see how they transform for the winter months. Recently, we enjoyed a Locopop shot at Geer Street Garden. I've gotta say, while the Mango-chili pop was sublime, the shot kicked my butt! Oddly enough, it made me hyper as could be afterwards though.

Maybe the new Popsicle will be chili infused hyper-shots?

Having my cake

New horizons and change are on the way. I'm a super-fan of change, controlled change, that is. As a pre-Mrs gal, I couldn't get enough of the thrill of things being different. From cars to jobs to boys to toys to houses to hair - it was all different at all times.

Then, I met him - the man who painfully endured change only if it was a necessary action. He's set in his ways. It's kind of his thing.

After eight years together something dreadful has happened, his lack of change-love has rubbed off on this once wild-child, fickle redhead. Change these days kind of tweaks me out. Like really tweaks me out.

So, what am I doing about it? Shaking things up and taking on the mother-load of all changes. We'll see who likes change now. I'll share our journey with you soon.

Until then, I'm doing what I do best when I cannot control things - baking a cake, this cake.

Sundays, lovely Sundays

There's one weekly tradition that I will not break - Sunday evening wind down. I've treated Sunday not as the end of the week, but as a day to prepare for the upcoming week since I was in my early teens. I will only break this ritual for family, and even then it might be begrudged.

The house is clean, the laundry complete, lunches made, outfits arranged for the week...all by 5pm Sunday. I'm ready to take on the week and Monday won't know what hit it!

After the weekly chores are complete, Travis and I prepare a meal that is deemed "special" and watch our favorite TV shows. This season, it's True Blood.

In preparation for our upcoming trip to Durham, North Carolina and a planned meal at Toast - I decided to create a few crostini for our "special meal".

Our Sunday night, wind-down crostini:
Pea Pesto: Fresh, but really strong with garlic. Don't know if we'll try this one again.
Mushrooms with Feta: Ehh...needs more flavor. Try again.
Goat Cheese, honey and pepper: Yum! But what isn't good with goat cheese?
Shrimp mosca: Tasty! A little too much garlic for us, but tasty nonetheless.



*Note: I cannot tell you how excited I am to eat at Toast, a place that many of my friends have talked about over the past year. I'm still undecided on what to order, but I'm certain there's a warm goat cheese and honey crostini calling my name!

Brown butter & salt love

Source: picky-palate.com via Natalie on Pinterest

There are few things that I can resist when it comes to baking. Brown butter and Fleur de sel rank in my personal top five loves of all things baking/cooking.

I'm making these tonight and we'll see if there's any left by the early morning light.

Felicity

Source: None via Natalie on Pinterest

It's funny that I can show a hair stylist a photo of a haircut and inevitably, it comes out wrong...way wrong. So, I'm making lemonade out of this lemon situation. Felicity, err Keri Russell, inspires me with this photo. I'd like to imagine that with her haircut I, too, could sit lost in a happy daze, eating my croissant and donning a fantastic outfit.

Yes, I'm channeling the grown-up version of Felicity's style now.