Elul: Accepting That I'm Where I'm Supposed to Be

Asher conquers a Colorado peach at the Farmers Market

while mommy is busy working in California. 

[Thanks to Tatty for the picture, of course.] 

Lately, and maybe because it's the Hebrew month of Elul and the High Holidays of Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur are right around the corner, I've been thinking about where I am in life. In a few short weeks, the books of life and death will be written and sealed, so it's a heavy time.

After spending three days out in California with my (amazingly awesome, there are no words for them) coworkers in Mountain View, walking past the offices of Apple and LinkedIn and being a few doors down from Google ... man, I was fan girling in a serious way. I'm finally in the industry of my dreams. I mean, I've been working in social media for the better part of my adult life and consider myself an expert in many things (content, audience cultivation, Facebook ads, social campaigns, social virality). But for the first time in my life, I'm able to travel to the hub of the startup world, launch a brand digitally from scratch, and watch it grow, soar, succeed.

This is the career changer, the life changer. And being in California with my head down and hanging out with my coworkers as they troubleshoot and I troubleshoot and we all make amazing things happen, I was in the thick of it and it felt right.

On the other hand, my husband and son were back in Colorado, so I was able to wake up at 7 a.m., start working right away and pull a full day, not finishing up until 5:30 or 6 p.m. and feel completely and utterly accomplished. It was amazing. I could do it every day of my life and feel fulfilled. I think.

Once upon a time, I envisioned my life differently. I was going to live in NYC and work at The New York Times, and when I graduated college and ended up at The Washington Post, I was well on my way to realizing that dream -- maybe. But I was depressed and unhappy. The hours were terrible, my neshama wasn't at peace, there were many things missing. So the course of my life changed forever when I left Washington DC in early 2007. Since then, every year has been a patchwork.

Five years ago, I was playing the happy housewife. Newly married, newly moved to Teaneck, I was attempting to keep up with the Schwartzes, buying new dishes and servers and attempting to fit into the Shabbat hosting world. Things weren't good, but they were manageable.

Four years ago, I was on the verge of divorcing my first husband. I was severely depressed, medicated, and desperate for a change. On the outside, I put on the ultimate show. On the inside, I was dying.

Three years ago, I was on the verge of making aliyah (moving to Israel), where I anticipated big life changes, finding a new mate, having children finally, fulfilling the dream of Eretz Yisrael.

Two years ago, I was a newlywed and several months pregnant. I was baffled at how I'd gotten to where I was, but elated at the challenge, despite being broke, mostly jobless, and unsure of what was in store for me and my new family.

One year ago, life was unhappy again. The adjustment back to the U.S. had been incredibly hard on everyone and things weren't going well. Asher was a happy, bouncy baby, but there was a lot going on and, little did I know, I was about to lose my job and my husband -- all on my birthday.

And today? Well, today my husband is back. He's working full time at two different jobs (construction/house flipping + the kosher pizza place while the owner receives treatment for cancer), so we see him on Shabbat and for a few hours in the middle of the day. I'm working, making sure the house runs smoothly, the laundry gets done, food gets on the table, and making sure Asher gets to daycare so all of those things can happen smoothly.

It's not perfect, but it's where we are, and despite the freedom I have when I'm knee-deep in the startup world in Mountain View, it's nice to come home to toys all over the floor and a tiny person who says, "Mommy, Mommy!"

I recently asked my Facebook friends if they were where they thought they'd be in life, and without an official count, I'd say 95% of the respondents said "no." I wasn't surprised.

Am I where I thought I'd be? Definitely not. Is it where I want to be? I'm still figuring that one out. But the truth is, for all of us, we're exactly where we're supposed to be. Ultimately, it's all about acceptance, and if we can accept and appreciate where we are, then it will always be where we want to be.

Off to See the Wizard (or to California)

I had what can only be described as the worst start to a day ever. Okay. That's an exaggeration and I acknowledge that. But on two hours of sleep ... Everything seems miserably terrible, right?

Anyhow I went to bed around midnight after packing and prepping the house so Mr T could easily manage three days at home alone with Asher while I'm in California for business. Making Mac and Cheese for lunches, doing laundry, doing dishes, cleaning up, making a list of things to know ...

So my alarm went off at 2:50 am for a 3:20 Super Shuttle pickup. I fell asleep at some point before one. I think.

Got to the airport swiftly, got through security quickly, and then? The wrong airport train (to get to the terminal as) opened, a bunch of us got on, and then it turned out the doors had opened in error and we were all stuck. The only option? Get off the train, go up the escalator and back through security. Okay. Annoying, but not the end of the world. The lines were suddenly long and they decided this time around to confiscate all my kosher food. Then they insisted on me going back through security. Again.

So. Tired. Frustrated. Suddenly without my kosher goods. I cried. Everyone ignored me, too. So I complained to the TSA desk and the guy was apologetic and noted I should have had my food confiscated the first time through. Awesome.

Anyhow. There are worse things. Luckily there's instacart so I can't get groceries delivered to my hotel. And the company is getting a kosher caterer to provide me food at an event today. So. Positives. Also, Mr T sent me a pretty awesome Bob Seger song "Get Out of Denver."

I'd just like a trip through the airport with a bit of ease.

Also, there are some serious jerks on this flight. I get that it's early but the disrespect is ... Wow.

A Giveaway: The Tea Book

As you may or may not know, my most recent work adventures have taken me into the impressively fascinating world of loose leaf tea. Now, I'm not talking Doctor Who blends or Cotton Candy blends, but pure, authentic loose leaf tea from the world's most natural sources in historic growing regions like Taiwan. The great thing about tea, too, is that all unflavored teas are naturally kosher!

Thanks to my (amazing, wonderful, I seriously can't tell you how happy I am here) job, I've had the chance to taste a lot of tea I never would have before and my tea porn collection continues to grow, especially in the form of books. As a self-proclaimed bibliophile (I have a huge list of every book I've ever had to sell or get rid of in moves so I can repurchase them all someday), when I can rationalize a purchase because it makes sense for work, I'm a happy clam.

But the book I'm talking about today -- The Tea Book by Linda Gaylard -- is one that my awesome boss sent me. But I am so in love with it that I bought another copy to actually give away here. Why?

The tea industry in the U.S. is growing at an insane rate: $1.8 billion in 1990, $10.84 billion in 2014, and predicted to more than quadruple by 2020. But most of the tea consumed in the U.S. is black tea and it's iced. The funny thing about this is that traditionally, Americans were heavy green tea drinkers up until World War II. Then things changed and as the iced tea industry grew, American tea tastes continued to fall in that category.

Luckily, with books like The Tea Book, pure, unflavored teas are getting the attention they deserve. With five categories of leaves from the camellia sinuses plant -- black, white, oolong, yellow, green, and pu-erh -- there is an abundance of opportunities to experience tea (without sprinkles, fruit, and herbs if you don't mind me).

The great thing about this book, though, is that it takes you from the past to the present, around the world, into the teahouses, tea cultures, and tea farms so you, the reader, can really start to understand what tea is, why it's the second-most consumed beverage in the world after only water, and how it has evolved into an industry of blends, herbal teas (tisanes), and more.

Now, if you know me well enough, you know that I am, and have always been, first and foremost, a coffee drinker. The truth is that my love of coffee is still potent, but my love of tea is taking over (it's all thanks to a 2007 Aged Oolong, believe it or not). So both as an individual and as a representative of what I foresee being the most revolutionary tea company this side of the industrial revolution, I'm stoked to give away The Tea Book. 

Whether you drink tea or not, this book will blow you away. The visuals are stunning (it's a DK Book, which you might know from their amazing educational books and children's books), the history is quirky and fascinating, and it's just a beautiful conversation piece.

Ready? Enter to win by 08/20!

Thread and Flourish Box Review!

Love scarves? Love handmade goodies? Check out the Thread and Flourish Box (and a quick look at doing a head wrap with an infinity wrap).

Mr. T's Return: The Co-Parenting Adjustment

Father and son checking out the furniture at the DAT Academy Yard Sale.

Life is funny. Everything is funny. Joyous funny and "did that just really happen?" funny and "I can't believe this is happening" funny.

This morning, while on the way to drop Asher off to school, he managed to puke everything he had for breakfast up, while sitting casually in his carseat watching Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood in the car.   He was completely unfazed, I was in all-out panic mode (this being the fourth time he's done this in the past nine months), and Mr. T, well, he was cool, calm, and collected.

We drove back to the apartment and he took Asher, carseat and all, and strolled him up to the apartment, got him cleaned up, bathed, changed, and hydrated.

It's about 3.5 hours later and I'm still anxious. Every time Asher puked everywhere while Mr. T was gone, I had an absolute breakdown. Not only because I simply cannot handle puke (I can count the amount of times I've regurgitated in the past 20 years on one hand), but because when it was just me and the kid I felt helpless and alone. I immediately fell back into that feeling of anxiety, helplessness, and desperation that I felt all those other times he did the same while Mr. T was gone.

Tatty and Asher teamwork with the yard sale kitchen.

Despite Mr. T's reassurances that it really was okay, the two minute ride back home I was just frazzled. And, well, I still feel frazzled.

At the same time, I think back to lost work days and anxiety attacks when Mr. T wasn't around. Today, on the other hand, I was able to run to the kelim mikvah (I picked up stuff from three other peoples' homes and took a bunch of Pyrex I got on the cheap from Wal-Mart to be toveled), get the car cleaned, and now I'm sitting, working.

I even FaceTimed with Mr. T and Ash, it being the first time I've ever video chatted with my son, which was a super weird, but fun experience.

I'm trying to laugh about this morning. My body still feeling like static is running through it. The panic, the anxiety, the "what do I do now?" all the while having a partner and co-parent there ready to man the puke and do a massive, sickening load of laundry.

It's going to be okay. I just have to convince myself that I can and should accept the help. That I'm no longer single parenting a precocious toddler who has the most adorable temper tantrums you've ever seen.

Because I'm not alone anymore. My husband, the father of my beautiful boy, is home. And all of the adjustment and growing together pains are worth it. I'll get there. I promise. It's just going to take some time.

Team GB Reunited: Family is Absolutely Everything

Shabbat Shalom!

And yes, he was making a funny face on purpose :)

Update: This time it's good, I promise

As if my last post was sent into the upper reaches of the heavens almost immediately ...

He's coming. 

He picked up his visa this morning (even though the website still says its processing). He's at Ben Gurion right now. He'll be flying through Newark in the early hours of Friday. He'll be here in Denver at 9:05 a.m. please G-d tomorrow.

My husband, Asher's tatty, is coming back to us. (Home for now, I suppose, because it's where the heart is.)

I'm making challah. Trying to focus on working. Being amazed at the outpouring of support from friends to help us pay for his ticket home (I really wish Israel-USA flights were cheaper, but Israel doesn't like letting people go) and for being there for us over the past nine months.

Just in time for the 4th of July. Appropriate (or paradoxical), no?

Stay tuned ...

Updates: There Are None!

For the first time since Mr. T hopped the pond, I actually managed to complete my agreed-upon gamut of About.com articles for the month. I should celebrate! Crack open some ice cream or something, right? Alas.

I have been writing a lot about food as of late. And there's the problem.

It only makes sense that the only real update I have for you — as the consulate lied greatly when they told me that they would print Mr. T's visa as soon as they were back online (that was Friday, and, oh wait, it's Tuesday, and still no visa) — is that I've rejoined Weight Watchers and managed two days straight at the gym.

Go me! Go me! It's the Year of Chavi, don't you know?

I've managed to gain all the weight that Mr. T has lost while away, which has put me back at a truly unfortunate and uncomfortable weight, self image, and blah, blah, blah. I simply long to not have my toddler poking and prodding at my tummy and thighs ... although Mr. T has informed me that it's less that I'm fat and squishy than it is that Ash is seeing a part of mommy he doesn't normally see. It's cute curiosity, not an attempt to make me self conscious.

And, of course, I know. He's a toddler. He's not Cosmo checking for my beach-ready body.

But who wouldn't love more energy? A better self image? A more active life to keep up with a toddler giddy to run anywhere for anything at any time?

Either way, I had success on Weight Watchers back in 2008 when I was able to eat a very non-kosher diet that consisted of Trader Joe's chicken fingers and potato wedges and Subway sandwiches. Since then, every attempt I've made with Weight Watchers has consisted of me trying to completely overhaul my entire diet to fit the plan. This time, I'm sticking to my current diet and focusing on portions and self control. Will power!

One day in and I find myself obsessively thinking about food and how hungry I am. Maybe even when I'm not.

Anyhow, speaking of ice cream ... the best part of my day? A frozen banana blended with some chocolate chips shared with my little monkey. Make your own with The Kitchn's One-Ingredient Ice Cream! It's better than real ice cream. I promise.

Let's do this.

Same-Sex Marriage Announcement

My feelings on today's announcement by SCOTUS on same-sex marriage:

As a proud Orthodox Jew, confident in my choices and beliefs, I have to say that I'm happy to live in a country where two human beings, no matter their gender or preference in human partner, are finally allowed to sign a legal document that allows them to share insurance and other benefits, visit each other when sick in the hospital, immigrate, receive parenting rights, tax rights ... and so much more. 

Yes, love is important, but it isn't all there is when it comes to "marriage" in the U.S. 

So let's not go crazy talking about religion or what love is or who experiences it or what's right and wrong, mmk? Mmk.

Also, I really need to make this rainbow challah.

Note: This doesn't change anything for religious marriage, and I'm okay with that. If there are two Jews out there who want to get married and buy a house and adopt some kids or have kids or buy a burial plot together or whatever, I am happy and excited that they have that option. If they want to get married in an Orthodox shut under a 

chuppah, well, that's a completely different ball of wax that isn't going to melt any time soon or ever. Why? I'm a believer in the Torah, 613 mitzvot and all, as best as we can observe them. I fully support and respect everyone's right to who they marry, love, and choose to be with. That doesn't conflict with my belief in the Torah as truth, and the Torah as truth in a religious context isn't going to make religious marriage possible for a same-sex couple unless HaShem sends us a prophet after all these years to say otherwise. Mmk? Yeah. Mmk. 

Time Flies When You're Eating, Right?

Is it just me or is 2015 flying by? I mean, I have reasons for not paying attention to the days or weeks or hours, but the truth is last week I completely lost half my week. I spent all of Thursday morning thinking it was Tuesday and debating whether to get a babysitter so I could go out and see a movie or just have a "me" night on Wednesday or Thursday. Talk about a shocker when I saw a news article referring to "Wednesday" and then suddenly realized it was Thursday. 

This week, I'm equally shocked that it's already Wednesday. How does it happen? Is it having kids that makes time fly? Is it being on a pretty strict and standard daily schedule that makes time fly? 

I never thought I'd be one of those people with a schedule that, when strayed from, feels like the end of the world. For me. For Asher. For everyone involved. 

Anyhow, with all of the busy that's involved, I'm cooking, baking, and enjoying raw goods. Here's what I've been working on:

Oh She Glows Chia Seed Donuts -- Except I do them muffin style!

These Quinoa Pizza Bites are amazing, and next time I'm going to actually do them in a mini muffin pan because the large muffin pan didn't allow them to stay together well. 

I'm stocking Raw Macaroons, which are basically 1 cup shredded coconut, 2/3 cup almond flour, 2 Tbls coconut oil, 2 Tbls maple syrup, and 1 tsp vanilla blended in a food chopper with chocolate chips mixed in and then rolled into balls, rolled in more coconut, then refrigerated to keep 'em solid. Yum!

Another yummy raw dish I'm making is a Raw Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Balls, which are a mix of a 14.5/15-ounce can of chickpeas, 1/2 cup peanut butter, 2 tsp vanilla, and 2 Tbls honey. 

And, lastly, the piece de resistance ... Pigs in a Blanket, gluten-free style! It's a genius take on one of my favorites from when I was a kid. It's just vegan hot dogs + some cheese on a corn tortilla, wrapped up and baked at 375 Fahrenheit for about 20-25 minutes. Enjoy!

What are you baking, cooking, or mixing up right now? I'm up for new recipes! In fact, I've got some Arnold Palmer Ice Pops in the works, not to mention these Chocolate Chip Mint Greek Yogurt Pops. 

Farmers' Market Sundays in Denver

I'm doing my best to not think about the craptitude that is the situation with Mr. T's immigration, so I'm drowning myself in food, Farmers' Markets, work, cooking, food. Are you catching the theme here?

(In short, Mr. T's UK visa was approved last month, and they asked him to bring his passport in, so he did, and then they said they didn't have it, and then they said "oops, we sent that in error" and now it's weeks later and we still don't have his UK passport or visa. Even though the giant, ridiculous technical outage with the U.S. Department of State supposedly only applies to those who interviewed or applied on or after June 9, 2015 and we applied last year and Mr. T's interview was on May 15, 2015 and ... well ... just another brick in this big, oppressive, miserable wall.)

So we started Sunday out at the Farmers' Market down on Old South Pearl Street, where I always pick up a $10 bag of vegetables from Miller Farms and Asher hangs out and listens to the local tunes while rearranging the chairs.

Today's vegetable take-away:

• Red peppers
• Green beans
• Mushrooms
• White and purple potatoes
• Onions
• Broccoli 
• Spaghetti Squash

Then we ran a few errands (fish and fruit at the grocery store) and went to a birthday party, and by the time we got home around 5 p.m., Ash was pooped and I was poised to prep for the week. 

I steamed the broccoli and green beans, made a Corn and Peach salad, baked some salmon, sautéed mushrooms, and ... what else? Sundays are powerful in my house. It's a make or break for the rest of the week. I also spent motzei Shabbat (that's Saturday night) meal planning for the week. We've got fish dishes, pad thai peanut noodles, tofu sandwiches, buffalo tempeh, Chia Power Donuts from Oh She Glows, you name it. It's going to be a good, healthy, foodful week (I hope). 

How do you stay on track for the week to not fall utterly and desperately behind? Here's a bonus video review of two box-of-the-month club subscriptions (Bluum Baby and Citrus Lane): 

Ask Chaviva Anything: That Question I Hate

Probably the most common question I got asked by guys on Frumster just came in to Ask Chaviva (Almost) Anything.

"Did you ever go to seminary?"

Short answer: no. 

Long answer: No, because I went through the conversion process, spent seven weeks at a Hebrew-only ulpan at Middleburg College, and received a master's in Judaic studies (focus on midrashic literature) resulting in a depth of information greater than many likely obtain in seminary. 

That leaves me with a question, however, which is: Aside from the social experiment of seminary, what else did I miss out on?

Ask Chaviva Anything: What's Your Skin Regimen?

This question is very flattering, which makes me feel a bit awkward, but ...

Whenever you post a picture or a video of yourself, I'm always in awe of your skin. You don't seem to wear a lot of makeup, so I assume it's just really beautiful. Therefore - and I know it's completely OOT - would you mind sharing how you keep it that pretty?

The funny thing is, the past few weeks I've had terrible woes with my skin. My whole life, I've had pretty clear skin. When I was in high school I had one friend who struggled with acne who used to comment to how much she hated how clear and pimple-free my skin was. Luckily, I managed puberty without any acne problems. 

That being said, I struggle greatly with skin woes when I'm stressed, and the past few weeks I've been particularly stressed. I'll get two to three terribly obnoxious and irritating skin woes that last for weeks because I suck at handling acne since I never had to deal with it before. I also have a few spots on my face where I have "pock marks" leftover from painful chicken pox when I was a child. You probably don't see them in my pictures, and I think I probably notice them more than anyone does.

So how do I keep my skin clear? I really ... honestly I don't do anything. I drink a lot of water, eat a largely plant-based and gluten-free diet with very little dairy intake. I don't have any creams or moisturizers I use, mostly because I'm lazy. I buy them and then never use them. I don't spend a ton of time in the sun, either.

I feel like that makes me sound like a jerk. Ooo look at me and my mostly clear skin and I don't do anything for it! But I really do believe that diet has a lot to do with skin health. So take it as you will! 

Ask Chaviva Anything: That's a Lot of Ice Cream, Isn't It?

I'm going nuts with the blogging this week. I've always been a big believer in the idea that if you have something to say, say it, but if you don't, then don't. This blog is a testament to that.

Anyway, another video here, this time in response to a submission to the long-forgotten Ask Chaviva (Almost) Anything feature!


Ask your own: bit.ly/AskChaviva

I've Been Doing it Wrong: How to Pray

I receive a lot of books for review in the mail, most Jewish-themed, from a bevy of book publishers. Some of them I get to, some of them I start and set aside because they're trying too hard, and others I fall into with a heavy mixture of exhaustion and relief.

One of these books I'm only a few pages into, but it's a "lesson a day" kind of book, so that only makes sense. Normally I wouldn't even write about a book or review it until I'm practically finished, but I feel compelled to write something.

I've had a rough couple of years, and an even rougher past eight months. My experience is that my whole life has been one gigantic challenge, with very little coming easy and very little feeling like it makes sense or that I can take a few days to just relish in what I have. It's a thankless perspective to have on life, but when I'm low, it's how I feel. I have a beautiful child who is my reasoning for waking up every day, and that is what drives me even as I struggle in every other aspect of my existence.

And then I hear stories or read book introductions, and I feel like my pity party is disgusting, selfish, and unwarranted. Chin up, buck up, it could be worse. It could always be worse.

Turn Around: 180 Degrees in 180 Days was written by Orit Esther Riter, a woman who was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis three months after the birth of her first child. Through relapses and other pitfalls, she's stayed forward-thinking, always looking at how good things are. I can only dream of having that perspective, the perspective that Mr. T so confidently holds, too.

The first day, "What Lies Deep Within Us?" has a very simple lesson about prayer, tefillah: "We should ask for our needs to be fulfilled because we want to use them to serve Him better."

Aha! Lightbulb.

When I was little I'd pray with a bargaining chip. "If you do this, G-d, I'll do or be that." If you make such and such happen, I'll be good, I'll pray every night, I'll help more. When I was a kid, I was doing it right.

At some point, the more I prayed, the more I learned, the less I held to this. In the past eight months, I've spent a lot of time talking to G-d. I've asked for my husband back, because I cannot, should not be alone. Because a son needs a father. But I've been doing it wrong. Because I've had such a hard time already, enough is enough.

"We ask for wisdom to understand the Torah. Give us health, so we can perform the mitzvos (commandments)." 

Aha! That's it. That's. It. Thank you, Orit.

When I read this I realized that my formula has been wrong. I'm should pray for my husband to return so that I can observe the mitzvah (commandment) of taharat ha'mishpacha (family purity, loosely going to mikvah). For my husband to return so that I can have the time, energy, and capacity to study and understand the Torah. I should pray for my husband to return so we can fulfill the commandment to be fruitful and multiply.

You get the drift. It's about recognizing that everything comes from HaShem (G-d). All roads lead there. It's about having emunah -- a term that is difficult to translate into English. It's typically translated as "faith" or "belief" and first appears in the Torah with Abraham. After leaving the land of his father, Abraham and Sarah go through a lot, after which he challenges G-d. Then, G-d promises that Abraham and his seed will be as numerous as the stars in the sky, and at last he says,

“And he believed (vehe’emin) in the Lord; and He counted it to him for righteousness” (Genesis 15: 1‑6).

But it isn't belief as we understand it today. No, as Dr. Menachem Kellner explains, Abraham finally truly trusted HaShem. Emunah is ultimate trust. 

The truth is, being a cerebral person, this is the most difficult aspect of my Orthodox Jewish life to put into words or feelings. It's something so internal, so deeply embedded in me, that it's difficult to vocalize. I've always trusted. At the same time, it's so entrenched within me that it also gets covered up and forgotten about when things get hard. I forget how to trust because I take for granted that it's there.

B'ezrat HaShem (with the help of G-d), this book will help me, day by day, to rebuild my relationship with G-d, to pray with conviction and understanding of why I'm praying and how it connects me to HaShem. 

Heaven knows I need it. 

Hop Into My Kitchen: Cooking with Chavi

It's only appropriate that I follow a post about body image and being overweight by writing about ... food! You see, I spend my Sundays when Ash is napping cooking for the week, or at least for the next few days. So here's what I was up to.

First thing I did was put the laundry in the wash throw together some Baked Salmon Cups. Basically, they're salmon cakes but made the lazy easy way in a muffin pan. The recipe I use is sort of "choose your own adventure," but I know they're done when they're crisp around the edges.

Ingredients
3 cans salmon (~18 oz)
1 cup gluten-free breadcrumbs
3 Tbls mayo
1 Tbls lemon juice
1/2 cup egg white replacer (you can use regular eggs)
dried parsley, salt, pepper, garlic powder + whatever else you want

Directions: Mix it all up. Make sure the mixture isn't too dry, and place in a 12-cup muffin tin. Flatten the tops a bit and throw on some more gluten-free breadcrumbs. I baked these for about 12 minutes at 350 Fahrenheit and wasn't happy with the progress, so I bumped it up to 425 Fahrenheit for another 7 minutes or so and they got crispy. As I said, I take a very "choose your own adventure" approach to cooking.

They make great finger food for toddlers. If you want, mix some mayo with sriracha or with dijon for a nice sauce to have with them.

---

Then I threw together some Corn Salad (corn, mayo sour pickles, dill, salt, and pepper) and Dijon Hearts of Palm and Tomato Salad (red wine vinegar, dijon, olive oil).

And then? Then the easy stuff. I trimmed and steamed some green beans I picked up at the Farmers' Market this morning. Love the farm-to-table life.

Then, my life was made a bit easier thanks to an awesome package from the kind folks at CookSimple with oodles of goodies to try and coupons to share and buy more, too. The great thing? All I did was write about how easy they'd made my life and how I would have been better off had I discovered them eight months ago (no, seriously). It's healthy, few-ingredient meal aids and meals in a box that are gluten free and kosher. A girl grown up on Hamburger Helper, I'm elated to find something that tastes better that fits my diet.

On the menu for this round of cooking was the Chipotle Sorghum Pilaf. It smelled like Autumn and tasted even better. Ash enjoyed it, despite my worries that the chipotle would have too much kick for a 17 month old, but he is his father's son. It was so tasty and easy. Check out this video for a bit more on it (and the bit in the video about the box + confusion has to do with using the bag as a measuring cup):


And lastly, I made two things at the end of last week that are particularly delicious that I'm quite proud of, although the recipes are completely not my own. The first is Breakfast Yogurt Pops, which Asher absolutely LOVES and the second is Peanut Butter & Jelly Muffins, which I love.

What are you making/baking/cooking these days? Share your favorite go-to recipe with me, please!

A Plus-Size Confession from an Israeli Fatty

I started to write a post on Facebook, but it just kept growing and growing and growing (much like my waistline and the opposite of Mr. T's, which keeps shrinking). So here we are. This is probably one of the most stupid, open posts I've written in a while, but it's where my head is.

I'm slowly finding myself really disgusted at all the body image crap going around in my Facebook groups. People talking about how it's either horrifying that we're poo-pooing plus size models (OMG they can't be healthy!) or celebrating them (OMG they're so proud and amazing), but it's all ... sigh. I don't know.

I'm plus size. Curvy. Or as they call women in Israel, a "fatty" (shamenit was actually what a woman in a plus-size store called it). The country doesn't know how to accept or deal with its plus-size population, unfortunately, which I find deeply upsetting and disappointing.

Please ignore the hair. Ugh. 

I weighed 180 pounds my senior year of high school.  I've been a size 14/16 or 18/20 most of my adult life, heading into even larger sizes during periods of depression, but I've never "looked it." I look at Tess Holliday and she's only a size up from me in many clothing lines, and I don't think I look that close in size to her. I feel that close in size, but I don't think I look it. Do I?

Am I happy with my body size? No. Of course not. I have back aches, I have knee problems, my foot would probably heal faster if I didn't have extra weight. I'm an emotional binge eater (Shabbat is the worst ... no husband to feel embarrassed in front of as I eat half a package of cheese). I eat primarily vegetarian and my fridge is full of spring greens, tomatoes, asparagus, portobello mushrooms -- but everything in moderation does not always compute for me. I have what is known as a difficulty in understanding and recognizing the sensation of being full. And sometimes, even when I am full, food is a comfort.

Funny thing about that. I realized this week, that the first thing we do when a child is fussing or upset is ask them if they're hungry. Give them a snack. Food heals all wounds, right? We start so young.

Do I love myself? In the right outfit, on the right day, I can and do love the way I look. I think my curves complement my attitude and disposition. I don't argue with certain endowments HaShem blessed me with, but on some days I wish there was quite a bit less junk in my trunk.

Where am I going with this? I don't know. I look at Tess Holliday and I think, yay! Maybe they'll stop putting all the plus-size clothes next to the maternity clothes in Target. Then again, I think, I rarely have to shop in the plus-size department because somehow I can still manage an XXL there. Then I think, maybe I won't have to sell a kidney to buy a nice outfit or skirt at Lane Bryant, but I think that's probably a pipe dream for plus-size girls everywhere. But then I look at Tess Holliday and think, would I, could I, ever have been in her position? Celebrated for my size and the way my body makes that size look? Probably not.

This is me in late February. The wig is a $16 piece from Amazon.
Do I look like a marshmallow?

I lost 25 pounds during and after my pregnancy with Ash. But I didn't look any different. My weight simply shifted (apparently into my thighs or something), keeping me at the same clothing size and same shape. It's weird. The body. Weight. Image.

And, of course, I'm writing this post after spending the whole of Shabbat inside (Ash had a mean cough), where all there was to do was roll around on the floor and eat. Cereal, cucumbers, cheese, rice cakes, lentils, yogurt-granola pops (homemade!), tomatoes, more cereal, lots of water ... by the looks of it, nothing seems bad. And yet, here I am, feeling overly full and angry at myself.

Sometimes I think that I'd have an easier time if my addiction was drugs or alcohol. Those are the kind of things you have to seek out if you don't have them in the house. Food is always there. No one has a completely empty cabinet or fridge. There's a market selling food on every corner (you'll only find a bar on every corner in Chicago).

Anyhow. That's where I am with Tess Holliday and plus-size models and body image. It's an internal dialogue that I can't shut off. Eight months now separated from my husband, me gaining the weight from stress, depression, anxiety, and him losing it with working again and walking everywhere. It's probably my greatest fear about his return: the way I look.

Funnily enough, the moment in my life when I was most happy and comfortable with my body was when I was pregnant. It was like I had an excuse to be the size I was, and I was okay with it.

Harrumph.

A Chaviva Infographic, Because Blogging is Hard

I'm so busy these days with the new job that I can't seem to find the time to sit down and plant my thoughts in any one place. I keep telling myself I'm going to make a video blog or I'm going to start blogging over on Medium.com, but it never happens.

The moment I pick Ash up from daycare at 4 p.m. every day my mind and body basically hit hyperdrive to make dinner and keep him entertained and happy and do household chores until he's in bed around 7/7:30 at which point one of two things happens: I ramp up, put my head down, and get back to work until about 11 p.m. or I completely crash and end up mindlessly watching bad TV until 9:30 and then go to bed.

You can see the dilemma here. I never get to the "me" part of the day where I unwind and unfurl on the blog. I miss that feeling of having a me space. But maybe it'll change once Mr. T is back. Maybe.

Anyway, here's an infographic of what's on my mind/how I'm feeling these days. The only thing that didn't make the infographic is that my father is having a new host of medical problems. Being alone with a 17 month old has made traveling to Nebraska difficult, if not impossible, but I have to head back within the next few weeks for my own sanity. Stay tuned.

Stuff People Say to Converts

This video is overly long, and the viral nature of these videos passed a few years ago, but, I've gotten probably 80% of these comments at some point so I feel like it's worth sharing. And you?

Still here.

Things are just quiet. I'm in a holding pattern. Waiting for May 15, and hopefully waiting for that following week when b'ezrat haShem my husband will come back to us.

Until then, enjoy Asher being adorable. He's my everything.

Ash spins and bensches.

A video posted by kvetchingeditor (@kvetchingeditor) on Apr 30, 2015 at 6:36am PDT

Ash is enjoying :)

A video posted by kvetchingeditor (@kvetchingeditor) on Apr 26, 2015 at 4:41pm PDT

That's vegan hummus ma lahma/hummus v'basar, by the way.