100 Resolutions: Part Two

On a recent road trip with my girls, inspiration for #72

I’ve had so much feedback on my first 50 resolutions. Some of you think it’s a great idea, others think I’m a bit crazy. I get it, 100 resolutions is a lot, even for those of you who adore a good list (and I know you're out there). The thing is, this isn’t my run-of-the-mill resolutions list. You probably won’t find anything in my 100 resolutions that requires a massive life change. I’m not a runner and I haven’t made running a marathon one of my resolutions, but while training for a marathon is totally doable (or so people tell me), it would require enormous changes and demand a lot of my time. I'm not looking for these kinds of changes this year. Enough is going on in our world for 2013. But opening a savings account dedicated to a vacation with my husband (#34)? I can cross that one off my list with one phone call to my bank. Finishing season two of Mad Men (#12)? Done, just like that.

These 100 resolutions are a new way of framing my goals, projects, and small jobs for the next year. Seen altogether they reflect the kind of life I want to lead, a life where I choose to embrace the good things, smile more, spend more time with people I love, and take care of myself. Making this list is a chance for me to (re)commit to the life I’ve dreamed about. But on their own, these resolutions don’t feel enormous or out of reach. They seem like small, manageable things I can do. They are also flexible, open to interpretation based on the week I decide to tackle them, which is key. Eating more greens (#60) can mean collecting and making some great salad recipes or simply throwing a pile of arugula on my plate with each meal. Whatever.

Sadly, playing more Twister did not make the list. Next time.

So here it is, part two:

50. Find a good way to archive my photos, including some actual photos printed (maybe a photobook?) so that Alyce and Shira can look at them
51. Bake an excellent gluten-free muffin
52. Don’t adopt another cat
53. Meet a new friend
54. Take Matt tobogganing for the first time
55. Host a Hitchcock movie marathon
56. Drink more champagne
57. Take photos of my grandparents
58. Take the girls to a music festival
59. Install shelves in the bathroom
60. Eat more greens
61. Replace nursing bras with something lacy
62. Help Alyce to stop biting her nails
63. Sew a pillow and blanket for Alyce’s pillow and cover stealing Bear
64. Sew a pillow and blanket for something of Shira’s, because, sisters
65. Watch more roller derby
66. Find a good Sunday market in Toronto
67. See more stars
68. Say “no” more
69. Create more things with my hands
70. Try to make it through one week without sugar (baby steps, yes?)
71. Make homemade valentines with Alyce for her school friends again this year
72. Take more small road trips, with and without children
73. Discover the best dancing music
74. Try out some new time management tips and see what works best
75. Climb a tree
76. Feed the birds
77. Convince my stepmother to come out for a crazy weekend in Toronto
78. Write a choose your-own-adventure story for Alyce, with Lucy the cat as the heroine of the story
79. Go to the dentist (I had to include this twice because I dread it so severely that I need extra prompting)
80. Find a favourite dress
81. Plant parsley for Tu B’Shevat in preparation for Passover
82. Be easier on those I love
83. Grow my hair
84. Make a better tomato sauce
85. Eat more seasonally
86. Two words: wax eyebrows
87. Make lunches the night before
88. Ask great questions
89. Surround myself with good people
90. Buy a t-shirt that isn’t black
91. Buy a t-shirt that isn’t v-neck
92. Think before baking more cookies
93. Pet a goat
94. Hang more art on the walls
95. Create a better storage system for my sewing/knitting projects
96. Have more friends over for Shabbat dinners
97. Take the girls outside more
98. Read more great writing
100. Run a marathon
100. Enjoy another year

Do you have a list? Want to share?

100 Resolutions: Part One

Sarah Goldschadt started a habit of writing 100 resolutions, and I think we should, too. This isn't a life list, but a list of 100 things I want to accomplish this year, doable, manageable, accomplishable things. I have always written resolutions and I swear by them (even when they when I break them), but what I like so much about writing 100 resolutions is that it forces you to break up some of your larger, loftier goals into smaller, workable parts. 

Here it goes. I'll be back with updates and progress reports!

100 Resolutions: Part One

1. Bake my own challah every week (I already know I love to do this, and since my recipe makes four loaves that I can easily freeze, this is a no-brainer.)
2. Have a picnic in High Park
3. Get a massage
4. Crochet a blanket
5. Join or start a book club
6. Soak my own beans
7. Take Matt to a college basketball game
8. Read another book by Stephen King
9. Go to the dentist (eye roll)
10. Drink more tea
11. Take Alyce ice-skating
12. Finish season two of Mad Men
13. Write more thank-you cards
14. Smile when I answer the phone
15. Call my dad more
16. Spoil my my mum on Mother's Day
17. Stop holding my breath
18. Return to a yoga class (see above resolution re: breathing)
19. Never apologize for who I am
20. Make more cakes
21. Tell my friends that I love them
22. Host a fabulous tea party
23. Get a membership to the Toronto Zoo
24. Go for more walks
25. Sing more
26. Invite someone I've just met over for dinner
27. Publish an article somewhere that isn't my own blog
28. Menu plan the heck out of our dinners
29. Create a new morning routine
30. Attend as many births as I can
31. Resist desire to put things off and return emails as they come in
32. Take Shira to her first movie at the theatre
33. Learn to cook fish other than salmon
34. Open a savings account dedicated to a vacation with my husband and not my children
35. Ask my darling mum to watch our children while we enjoy said vacation
36. Find the perfect shade of lipstick that reflects my desire to feel beautifully put together yet not look like a clown
37. See at least half of the movies nominated for best picture at the Academy Awards
38. Institute a one-in, one-out policy for toys and clothes in our house, which will require me to:
39. Accept that I can't keep every single thing my children have used/created/loved and choose a select few special things to keep until the end of time
40. In honour of not keeping everything, develop a system for dealing with Alyce and Shira's endless piles of art work
41. Drink more vegetables (anyone have a spare juicer?)
42. Make it through all eight days of Passover without eating all those delicious foods that rise
43. Say yes to my daughters more
44. Re-read some of my favourite children's literature (first up: The Secret Garden)
45. Paint the girls' room
46. Ride a bicycle
47. Send more mail
48. Plant an herb garden
49. Remember to water it
50. Take a bath with my clothes on (see above photo for inspiration)

Check back tomorrow for 100 Resolutions: Part Two, where I resolve to do such interesting things as install a bathroom shelf and find the perfect place to store my sewing projects. Are you kind of excited?

Sometimes perfect is the enemy of the delicious

Every Christmas my mother bakes these ginger cookies for my stepbrother. He lives out of town and doesn't spend too much time at my mum's, but he adores her ginger cookies and so my mum, because she's amazing like that, never forgets to include them in her Christmas baking. Since mum has come to rely on my help with baking (and by rely I mean I show up and beg to help), I have been in charge of the ginger cookies for the past two years. I'm a pretty decent cookie baker, or so I thought.

Last year I accidentally doubled the butter. Rarely do I think too much butter is a bad thing, but in this case the cookies drowned in it. They swam in oceans of butter. They still looked like cookies but they were too soft and just not what I set out to bake. Hoping to prove myself as at least an average baker this year, I tried again. And failed, again. Who leaves out half a cup of flour. Half a cup? All the time and energy one devotes to properly scooping and sweeping my flour with just the right technique falls to the gutter when one abandons the recipe in favour of not paying attention. To be fair, I was paying attention, but not to my cookies. I would wager my entire bank account that my attention was held by two exceedingly blonde children who take up residence in the middle of kitchen each and every time I turn my mixer on.

My cookies were a mess. Without the right amount of flour the cookies couldn't reach their intended round shape, and instead became one single, enormous cookie. We were left with three of these colossal cookies, one from each cookie sheet. With her glass half full attitude my mum dug out the pizza cutter and simply cut cookie shapes from the flat, soggy, cookie mess. We set them aside on the cooling rack and crossed our fingers. By the next morning they looked like this:

For those of you who can't decipher the iPhone-captured shape in front of you, I'll just tell you what it is. It's a Ginger Blob. A blob of crystalized ginger, molasses, butter, sugar, and (a little) flour. It was already Christmas morning at this point, but I couldn't handle my failure. My mum asks so little from me and I didn't want my stepbrother to think I did care enough to make him a single, round, edible cookie. So in between making Eggs Benedict (my mum's Christmas morning specialty) and prepping for our family dinner, I made a new batch of ginger cookies. They were round and they were perfect.

But then. In the middle of the Christmas day chaos, we never threw out the Ginger Blob. It sat there on the back counter next to the gorgeously round, neatly presented, real cookies all day. That's where the magic happened. Every time someone new walked through the kitchen they would pop a piece of Ginger Blob in their mouth. Not only did everyone start snacking on Ginger Blob, they declared it to be delicious, over and over again. All day long my perfect cookies remained untouched and the Ginger Blob slowly disappeared.

We are all so hard on ourselves sometimes. Afraid of failure, afraid of being judged, afraid of anything less than perfection, we can make our life a lot more difficult. I should rephrase that: I can make my life a lot more difficult. Besides being delicious, Ginger Blob taught me an important lesson: don't overlook opportunities, new possibilities staring you right in the face, because they are less than perfect. While I'm wasting my precious time trying to live perfectly, to make the perfect decisions and take the perfect steps, opportunities are passing me by.

So here I am, a little voice on the internet, asking you to find something in your life that doesn't seem to fit, and look again. Take a second look at that job opportunity, that chance at a new friendship, or the beginning of a new habit that at first glance seems to hard or wrong or out of reach. Does it match perfectly with the things you think you want? Maybe not. But might it end up surprising you with unexpectedly deliciousness? It might. Let's find out.

In a week filled with resolutions (and I'm brewing up a few of my own), let's take a moment to be a little easier on ourselves. Try something new, not something perfect.

xo

Update: My husband informed that I misspelled "perfect" in my post about perfection. Of course I did. But I corrected my typo, not because I'm trying to be perfect, but this is a writing blog and it's time I start editing my work. Baby steps. 

And you thought you had a good party trick

A few weeks before Alyce was born in 2007.

I've been sitting on an experience I had a few weeks ago, wanting to shout about it from the rooftops, while at the same time wanting to keep it quietly to myself for just a few moments more. Do you know that feeling?

I have mentioned a few times that I am becoming a labour doula. In fact, I am starting my own doula business here in Toronto. I haven't written about the details of my new business (opening soon!) because there is just so much work to put in first before I'm ready to open the doors, so to speak. I'm still finishing my doula certification and trying to identify all the moving parts of starting a small business (turns out there are a lot of parts).

These details will come, soon I hope, but in the meantime.

Two weeks ago I watched as my first doula client gave birth. This woman and her partner generously allowed me to learn from them as they approached the birth of their baby, through multiple prenatal visits and then for twenty-one hours of labour, delivery, and celebration. What can I say about my first opportunity to support a family during the birth of new baby? It. Was. Amazing. Their story isn't mine to tell, but I will tell you this: I stood next to her, holding one of her legs as she pushed and pushed, and I just started to weep, not only because I was standing before birth of a beautiful and healthy baby girl, but because I was stopped in my tracks by the strength of this woman. How does the world not stop and marvel at this strength every single day? I will never forget what I witnessed that day.


To anyone and everyone who has given birth, no matter how it happened or what it looked like: wow. You did good work. And you are stronger than you ever realized.

What are you good at?

I have my first window over the kitchen sink. Makes me very happy.

The ups and downs (and side to side) of settling into a new life are keeping me busy. We aren't just settling into a new home, but both Matt and I are trying to make some pretty big changes (of which I'll probably bore you with at a later date), never mind the challenges of helping two small people adjust to this new world of ours (for the record: Matt is mostly sleeping not on the floor of Alyce and Shira's bedroom, so there is progress). I have this habit of getting awfully down on myself when things feel a bit hard, a quality I'm dying to get rid of, and this past week has been a tough one on that front. So with hopes of getting over myself and on not focusing on my qualities that I wish were different, here is a list of things I am good at. Not included, though certainly relevant, are nods to my ability to recall useless bits of information from my past, like the order of my classes in grade nine (first term: math, gym, keyboarding, geography)

Ten things I'm good at

1. Baking chocolate chip cookies with a reliably delicious ratio of chocolate to flaky salt.
2. Letting my children know how much I love them.
3. Parallel parking.
4. Making people feel welcome.
5. Making a point.
6. Pie, the making and the eating.
7. Tagging along for an adventure.
8. Making my husband laugh.
9.  Dreaming big.
10. Wanting the best for people.

What are you good at?

What does different mean to you?

Queen West, Toronto

Just in case you were wondering.

Hope it's a great Tuesday.

She knows just how awesome she is.

Life is good, but it's kicking my ass nonetheless. I don't know about you, but I could use a little more superhero in my day. Here's to just sitting with your own awesomeness.

Knowing what I want

Fairy Princess, Halloween 2010. Alyce has always known what she wants.

Last week I mentioned that I was ready to take Helen Jane's advice to figure out what I actually want (because you won't get what you want unless you know what you want). She tells us that lists help, and so lists we will have.

What I like
spending time with the people I love
birth, new families
babies
baking
cooking
reading about baking and cooking
making people laugh
writing

What I don't like
the unknown
cynicism
guilt
bitterness
processed food (except Doritos sometimes, wine gums, and alright I probably do like processed food, but I don't want to)
low expectations
traveling without my family (except maybe once or twice a year, especially if I'm joined by husband or good friends on our way to weekend of good wine and good food)

What I want
to be there when babies come into the world
to work with women
to be with my children
to laugh a lot
to stop feeling guilty
more energy
time with my husband
some stability
to make my own corn tortillas (and other feats of the kitchen)
to learn from my mistakes
to develop a savings account
to live in a big city
to show my girls the world


What I don't want
to work in a job I don't enjoy just to pay for daycare
to prioritize making money over savoring the good things in my life
to be out of work again
to feel isolated
things I don't need
to worry so much

Having written these down, are there patterns? Is it glaringly obvious or will this take more work?

I admit that I've been pretty rotten with the analyzing stage of list-making. I've mentioned before that I'm terrible at following through on the lists that I've made. From daily to-do lists to bigger "this year I need to" lists, I write them and then look the other way. On the one hand there is something valuable in list-making that doesn't require follow through. Because I'm a visual learner the very act of writing a list stores those points away in my head for later (I almost always forget my grocery list, but if I close my eyes I can visualize the things I listed under each category. I still forget things, though, so clearly this isn't a great system.) But there is more to me avoiding my lists than just plain forgetfulness.

It's hard work.

Isn't it, though? Writing down the things you want or the things you need is work enough, because you need to listen to yourself, really listen, if you want results. Those things in life that you think you need can be awfully noisy in your head sometimes, so you have to listen hard just to get that list down in the first place. But then turning that list into action? I usually prefer to move on to something else, like making dinner or collapsing on the couch after dinner, tucked in next to my husband, watching Sons of Anarchy (we're on season three now). These alternatives are perfectly fine, enjoyable even, but they're not getting me closer to getting what I want.

I know what I want. I just wrote it down for all of you to see. Now I need to make these things happen, it's as simple as that. But there isn't a straight line from here to there (I think I might already be learning from my mistakes), so the question now is, what are the first steps? That's my homework for this weekend. I'll report back on Monday.

Have you written lists like these ones before? Will you share them with me? There's strength in numbers, you know. And I'd love to see them.

P.S. Have you heard of Health Month? It's a game, of sorts, that helps you get it together with some important health goals. You choose your own goals (anything and everything) and you score points for your ability to get them done. I chose three goals, including "Track my dreams at least three days a week," something I know will contribute to my mental health in a massive way, a strategy for avoiding the out of control feelings I get when I lose touch with the things I want in my life. (My other goals are 30 minutes of exercise three times a week and getting to sleep before 10:00 pm six nights a week.) My first month starts tomorrow!

Anyone want to join me?

Rainbow

Anyone lose a rainbow? Because Shira found one.

Hope you're having a good Monday.

d

Red is my favourite colour

She woke up this morning and dressed herself all in red.

It's your favourite colour, Mama! Do you like it?

Of course I like it. I adore it. I adore her.


Can you put a bun in my hair? Please? Way up high? Because I have long hair now?

Of course I can. She couldn't have been any more proud. Feeling good about yourself matters, and sometimes that means feeling good about how you look. It means dressing in a red shirt, a red skirt, and red stripy pants. It means wearing a bun because your little hair is now (almost) long enough.

Where is Papa? He'll want to see.

Papa is already at work. Should we take a picture and send it to him?

Oh, yes. He'll like that.

And so we did. And he did. 

Valentines and Vaginas

From the Vagina Monologues. Not quite office-appropriate.

Happy Valentine's Day! I am head-over-heels for Valentine's Day because I jump a the chance to tell someone I love them, and I want to share this joy with my girls. It's the perfect excuse to make a craft, bake with chocolate, and relax a bit about things in life that are hard. A good day in my books.

I've had some great Valentine's Days in the past, but my two absolute favourite Valentine's Days celebrated a different kind of love: the love of vaginas. Have you even seen The Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler? I have seen two performances of this incredible play, one at Queen's University and one at the University of Alberta. The first time I watched my friends perform the monologue (and I wish now that I had had the courage to perform along with them), and the second time I took my father's wife's mother (let's just call her May) to watch Jann Arden perform. Both times blew me away. Made me proud. Made me cry. And, most importantly, these performances stuck with me for years, fueling my commitment to teach my own girls to love their vagina.

Here's the thing: I want Alyce and Shira to be proud of their bodies. All of their bodies. We just can't be proud of something we don't talk about, so in our house, we talk about vaginas (Hi, Matty!) and that's just not going to stop. So Valentine's Day in our house will always, for me and my girls, be a day for vaginas.

2012, A few words: Part Two

Dear 2012:

I reached out to you earlier, and I've been waiting things out a bit before getting back to you. I wanted to let January take its course, you know, I didn't want to be pushy. Having considered the previous year's chaos and realizing that too many decisions were made in haste, I wanted to take things slow.

Mostly, I was just afraid. Nervous to take any decisive steps for fear that I'd choose the wrong path. There is so much wonderful freedom that comes with the position we find ourselves in, but with this freedom comes the sometimes suffocating pressure of knowing that our family needs to move forward (and also needs those basic life sustaining goods, like rent and food). 2012, I'm not asking for any special favours, really, I'm not. But I am asking for good push in the right direction and just a little support. We can do the rest.

I don't want to focus on last year anymore. I'm letting it go. We are settling in to our new surroundings in Canada (and having moved in with my mum, some of these surroundings are more familiar than others), we are tentatively planting some roots. We are tentative not because we're not sure we want to stay, but because we are--or at least, I am--a bit nervous about the steps we take. But we are stepping nonetheless.

I made an enormously deep step last week: I applied to midwifery school.

Yes, you read that correctly. I am making yet another massive change. That's the usual thing to do after a year like mine, right? This is a radical decision and I am terrified. I am mostly terrified that others will judge me making another bad decision. I'm worried they won't stand behind me as I move toward a path that I've wanted so dearly for so many years. I hear in my head all the second-guessing about money and careers and won't you just get a job already and stop going to school? Yes, I've been in school for what feels like a zillion years. Yes, it would be awesome to work and provide for my family today, right now. No, I don't think I'm being selfish. And yes, maybe I'll help deliver your baby one day. I'd love to!

Now that last one sounds awesome. Because the one thing that doesn't terrify me is the opportunity to be a midwife. I will be a good midwife. It will be hard work, but I can do hard.

When I wrote my list last year, becoming a midwife came only after having more children (which is still in the works, but later). I added it to my list but I never made a big deal out of it. It wasn't the right time to talk about it because I knew I'd be looking for other work and I feared someone finding my blog and thinking to themselves, who wants to hire this wannabe midwife for our decidedly un-midwife type job? Not us! I wanted to shout from every corner of this blog that after twelve years of dreaming about midwifery school, I was going to do it. Instead I remained (almost) silent. Of course I still talked the ears off of my friends about it, some of whom spent a very long time helping me craft an midwifery school application that I hope will land me an interview (thank you from the bottom of my midwife-loving heart, by the way), but I tried to keep my big ideas away from this blog.

Not anymore. 2012, this is where you come in. I need that push I mentioned earlier. We are trying our best to choose our steps wisely, Matt is now looking for his own new job, I'm working part-time from home and spending the rest of time with The Children. We are slowly moving towards, well, moving (out of my mum's house, that is). Matt and I carefully considered what is best for our future and we decided, in the spirit of this freedom we find ourselves navigating, that our little family was going to make me a midwife. I am grateful. I am relieved.

And I really hope I get an interview.


Yours sincerely,
with love and kindness,
and fingers crossed,
danielle

Breaking news in Canadian Immigration

This handsome American is now, very officially, a permanent resident of Canada! I repeat, he is a permanent resident. Last week we received the documents, headed to the border, and re-entered Canada as two Canada--loving residents. This means three things:

1. The handsome face can now start working.

2. He is now required, by law, to listen to the CBC.

And most importantly,

3. I filled out the forms correctly. All 37 pages. Take that, forms.

Because then you'll never miss these

Are you on Instagram for iPhone or iPad? I'm probably the millionth person to say this, but it's amazing. Instagram lets you steal parts of your day and share them with others: good parts, hard parts, or any parts you like. You can follow me @mostdaysiwin.

P.S. Since we're talking about following, you can also find me on Pinterest. If you need an invite to Pinterest, send me an email and I'll forward one your way.

Claiming their space while getting down with their bad selves

On January 6 250 women in Beit Shemesh, Israel danced in flash mob protest of the tension growing in their community between some ultra-Orthodox, who have been pushing for a more segregated community, and more moderate members of the town. Things have been getting out of hand, with some men making terrible decisions, namely spitting on an eight year old girl (on account of her so-called immodest dress). I love that the women of this community are standing up for the right of shared space and the dignity of all people, and I love a good flash mob!

Note to men who spit on the young girl: shame on you.