Wedding Recap: First Look

Due to several things, I had already decided before T and I were even a "thing" that I wanted to do a "first look". First of all, I have major anxiety issues, and I knew that seeing my groom pre-wedding would make things much less stressful (for the record- it was). I highly recommend that anxious peoples like me do this. I wasn't afraid of him leaving me at the alter, it was comforting to have him around, and- let's face it- I already had to take multiple anxiety prns before the wedding and was still having anxiety attacks- I think I would have died if I had tried to wait to see T until the ceremony. Plus, it meant we could take pictures together, with our wedding party, and with our families before the wedding and not have to worry about people having to wait around at the reception for all of us to show up. All in all, I thought it was a wonderful choice. 

Our wedding coordinator/my mom's BFF/my second mom highly recommended that we did the first look due to the above issues. She (and our photographer) agreed that we wanted it to be as intimate of an event as possible, and we still wanted to maintain the traditional experience of me walking down the aisle to meet my groom, so we did our first look in the Sanctuary where we were to be wed, and only us and our photographer were in the room. Yes, only T, Julie, and I were in the room. I made it clear on our wedding itinerary (yes, we had a 15 page wedding itinerary that I created and sent out to all involved- I'll talk about that at a later time, but I feel like it was the greatest idea I ever had) that I wanted this to be private and that I didn't want anyone else entering the room, I wanted all doors closed, and I didn't want anyone watching from the windows (or at least, I didn't want to see them doing so). It might have seemed a little Bridezilla-ish, but that's how I wanted this sacred moment to go down- so that's how it happened. I'm glad I stood up for myself, because I cherish the moments that T and I were able to have (mostly) alone. Our photographer was great- she stayed out of the way and I didn't even really realize she was there- she moved quietly and didn't interrupt us, which was great. 

Yes. I cried. It was out of happiness and disbelief that all of this was really real and I was really getting to marry my best friend. They were happy tears- I promise. :)

And T laughed at me the whole time that I was crying. And then, he made some inappropriate joke (okayyy, it was probably "appropriate" being that we were to be wed in a few hours and we had a wedding night coming up- but you get the picture...as my dad liked to say- #handsoffpotthoff).

And I have to throw this one in there- I just love my dad's face/reaction. Originally, we planned to do a first look with my dad before, but timing and stress...it just didn't happen. So I was happy that our photographer captured this moment.

First look- check! Next up- our wedding pictures!

Wedding Recap: The Little Details

Now that wedding pictures are finally in, it's time to blog about the wedding!

I've been debating about how I wanted to do this. Do I want to blog about every single little thing? I mean, it kind of was a big day, and we had an awesome photographer- so that means that I have approximately 400 pictures to share. Eek. After some thought, I've decided that I'm going to break it down into a few different posts, with each one sharing little snippets of our day. I'm going to try and share as much as I can about our big day without taking up too much space- and I'll be posting additional pictures on Facebook and Instagram as we go! Let's get started!

I've always said that I wanted the bulk of the budget of my wedding to be put towards the photographer. To me- the photographs are something I have from that day that will last for years and years to come. People told me throughout my engagement that the wedding day would be such a blur and that I'd probably not remember most of the details. They were right. I remember next to nothing from my wedding day. I am so thankful to have amazing photos, thanks to Chanterelle Photography. Julie was amazing to work with from the very beginning. I contacted her back in November to book the wedding, and I have been thrilled to have chosen her, for many reasons. She made me look and feel beautiful in my pictures, something that happens less often than I'd like. I'd recommend her in a heartbeat to anyone looking for a photographer in Alabama (and she travels!). 

I thought that it might be fun to start with some detail shots. These are some of my favorites that Julie took before the ceremony and while we were getting ready.

Our main "colors" were pink and gold and white and everything burlap and baby's breath. I aimed for a whimsical, vintage inspired, Spring wedding with as much pink sparkly things that T would allow. :)

As you can tell, we really embraced the DIY-ness of mason jars, sparkly ribbon, and baby's breath. I just love baby's breath. Sidenote: we made a lot of our own decorations, and I assembled the flower bouquets (I used artificial flowers from Jo-Ann Fabric and Crafts- made a couple weeks ahead of time). The heart painting was created by T, and we used it as a guest book at the ceremony and reception for people to sign and leave messages. You'll get to see the finished project in a later post. This really helped us personalize the wedding to be more whimsical, vintage, and "us". Plus, when you only have four and a half months to plan the thing- it's easier to go simple and homemade. Hey- I liked it, T liked it, we all liked it- I think it was a great idea (and honestly- it wasn't too stressful).

Now- on to the dress and other fun girly details!

My dress was purchased from David's Bridal. Honestly, I should probably give the story of the dress it's own special post, but let's just say- it was an adventure. Trying to get a wedding dress in four and a half months is stressful enough when you add in alterations. Add in the fact that I was beginning recovery in earnest (meaning, I began retaining massive amounts of water during those four months and my weight fluctuated about 35 pounds), my weight decided to redistribute in all sorts of crazy places, which meant we ended up purchasing a dress too small, which meant we had to reorder the dress in a larger size (causing it's own set of mental anguish), I had my alterations appointment a week after I got out of the hospital (due to needing to have some tests run due to digestive problems and the water retention- which meant I was retaining even MORE water and I was at the highest weight I'd ever been/super body self conscious)...it was crazy. But, in the end, I ended up with a dress that fit, for the most part. Since we had to purchase a larger sized dress, it ended up being way more low cut in the front than I felt comfortable in, so the week before the wedding, my mother added in a "modesty panel" (honestly, it was just a triangle of fabric, but it was a delicate process), and I felt much more comfortable. I'm just happy to say that the dress fit on the day of the wedding and that I loved it! 

Note to potential brides: going to weight gain and redistribution during the same time that you are purchasing a wedding dress...is HARD. I cried a lot over this dress. But in the end, I had a beautiful wedding, I got married to my best friend, my husband thought I looked amazing- that's what matters. Not the size on the label in my dress.

My shoes were probably my favorite part of my wedding attire. I searched for months and months for these things. It all started when I saw someone wearing gold flats and I was like- THAT is what I want to wear on my wedding day. Four months later- still couldn't find any ballet flats that I liked and that fit my feet (I have narrow feet and long toes). I resigned myself that I was probably going to end up in an old pair of flats or barefoot. About a week and a half before the wedding, T and I were at Target and I found these pretty little things- exactly what I had been looking for and dreaming of- in the shoe section for under 20 bucks. Score.

And that's it for this post! Yay! 

Come back and see pictures from our First Look...tomorrow!

Big Girl Legs and Feet

7/18/14


I came into the world, bumbling and scared. My mother had contractions from the time that she was three months pregnant with me and some doctors believe that the increased adrenaline that was secreted over these many months is the cause of my anxiety. I don’t know what I believe. I know that I’ve been anxious since I was a small child. One of my parents’ favorite stories to tell is about how I would have walked much earlier than I did- had I not been scared. All of the signs pointed to me beginning to take my first steps. I would pull up and we all thought that I would be one of those “early ones”- I’ve always wanted to be ahead of schedule. But instead of pulling myself all the way up, I would stand on my knees and walk around on those. I walked on my knees for months, never daring to pull myself all the way up, never daring to take a first step on my feet. I was scared, a scared little girl that had a fear of falling, and for months I lived on my knees. My parents bought knee covers to go over my knees so that I wouldn’t get carpet burn since our house had carpet. I’m sure that they wondered if I’d ever gather up the courage to climb to my feet- or if I’d be eighteen, graduating high school, walking across the stage to accept my diploma on my knees. Eventually I walked. I don’t remember it. I was little, but one day I made the choice to quit walking on my knees and walk on my big girl legs and feet instead. One day, not a super memorable day, but an important day nonetheless, I made the decision to walk. I gathered up my courage and pulled myself up and took the first of many many steps on my big girl legs and feet.


I’m at the same crossroads that I was at all of those years ago. I’m a scared little girl, content with walking around on my knees, because walking on my knees seems safer and nicer and more secure and I really don’t want to make the choice to walk on my big girl legs and feet because I might fall. I might trip over my feet. I might stumble. I might bump my head or hurt myself. But in order to grow up, in order to become a big girl and truly live and dance and sing, I must walk on my big girl legs and feet. I must let go of my security blanket, must let go of what seems safe and not dangerous. I must walk…on my feet. I feel like my eating disorder has served the same purpose as walking on my knees did all of those years ago. It makes me feel small and safe and secure. It’s what I know. It’s what I’m comfortable with. It’s “how I live”. But I don’t want to be eighteen years old and walking across the stage at my graduation on my knees. I don’t want to be thirty or forty or fifty years old and still clinging to this eating disorder. I want to walk on my big girl legs and feet. I want to get the courage to let this security blanket go.


But this all seems so scary. I am afraid of stumbling and falling. I am afraid of walking on my big girl legs and feet. I might fall. It seems safer to walk on my knees. I mean, it’s okay to walk on my knees. It’s not really that big of a deal. Sure it might be a little different, but nobody will really notice or care. My parents bought me knee pads, I am okay. I can just keep living this way, in my safe little bubble. All will be well, I don’t have to be courageous and strong. I can stay a scared little girl. I am afraid. I am a one year old and I am reverting to walking on my knees again. I am afraid. How do I let go? Okay, fine. I pull myself up and I stand, wobbling, on my big girl legs and feet. I teeter for a moment. I grab the edge of the couch for dear life. Nope, I’m not letting go. I stand for a moment, grasping the couch. These big girl legs and feet are kind of neat. It’s kind of cool to be a big girl. It’s kind of cool to not be stuck on my knees. I can see so much more. Maybe I can let go. Maybe tomorrow I will take a step away from the couch on my big girl legs and feet. Maybe I’m not there yet, but I will be there someday. I won’t be eighteen and walking across the stage to get my diploma on my knees. Someday, I will walk on my big girl legs and feet. Someday, I will let go of this crippling fear and I will really and truly live.

My message today is short, but I feel like it's important to share- no matter what, there is hope. You are not too far gone. You are not your past mistakes. You are not a conglomeration of all that you've never done, been too scared to try. Life is scary. That is a part of living- it is natural to not feel totally comfortable when trying new things. But, let me encourage you to take the risk. Stand up and try out your big girl legs and feet, because you never know when things will all come together and you will be able to do things that you never imagined.

Last September, I was trapped by an eating disorder and severe depression. I didn't see how life could possibly be worth living. Life seemed to stink, everything was hopeless. It was dark and dreary and I didn't know how I could possibly make it through another five minutes, much less an hour or a day or a week or a year. And then one day? Something clicked. I don't know what it was, but I was awoken from my stupor and I saw the light. I saw how God had planned so many marvelous things for me, and that even though I had given up on myself and I didn't love myself and I didn't think that I was worth it- he hadn't given up on me, he loved me where I was at, and he thought I was worth it. It hasn't been easy- these last almost seven months have been difficult. Things have not always been easy. I've had to deal with some health consequences of my actions. I've had to deal with water retention and weight redistribution. I've had to deal with thoughts and feelings and anxieties that I had previously numbed through destructive actions. But, it has been worth it. I ended my journal entry last July, written just two days after my twenty-fourth birthday with the lines, "Someday, I will walk on my big girl legs and feet. Someday, I will let go of this crippling fear and I will really and truly live." I  truly believe that I am walking on my big girl legs and feet. Do I tremble sometimes? Sure. Do I waddle or wobble during hard and trying moments? Certainly, but that is a part of learning to walk, a part of being a toddler is toddling sometimes. I can now say that someday I WILL let go of this crippling fear. I am beginning to experience the joys of really and truly living, and I never want to go back to the darkness now that I have not only seen the light- but I have experienced the light. I will leave you with some of my favorite words- an adaptation of Martin Luther King, Jr's "I Had a Dream" speech and from an old spiritual- "Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, I am free at last!"

Why I Walked Out of Church Today And I'm Not Going Back (To That One Anyways)

I walked out of church during a sermon out of anger for the first time today.

It started out alright. Some of you that know me in real life may know that I haven't been consistently attending church in awhile. After I started recovering from my eating disorder, my social anxiety went through the roof. I would try to attend church- and could sometimes make it to Sunday School, but going into a worship service with all of the noise and people would launch me into a panic attach. This has been a huge source of guilt for me- I graduated with a degree in Religion and the intent to work at a church! Church has always been my home, my safe place, and yet...I became fearful. T and I tried attending a few services together, but due to anxiety and his super crazy work schedule, we never got consistent. In recent weeks, we've been looking at finding a new church- one closer to our home, a smaller place where I might have less anxiety issues, but this has proven to be a challenge. T was raised Baptist. I was raised "theologically confused"-I don't really claim any one denomination, but I've attended a Methodist church since I was 11. Finding a church that we can both agree on, that isn't too big...it's a challenge. But, we came across a church and thought we'd try it this morning.

It started out great. Worship was good. I knew I'd like this church okay, since my Dad and I visited once last fall. We acquired seats on the end of the aisle, so I had an easy escape plan/less social anxiety. It was small. I thought to myself, "I can do this! We are TOTALLY coming back next week!". And then- the sermon started. Now, I'm not trying to bash any churches. I'm not going to name names, but I was really disappointed, and that disappointment turned into what I feel like was a righteous anger. The pastor's teaching was biblical at the beginning, and then he shifted into a whole "I'm going through a season that is hard right now" spill. You know the spill. It's basically a pastor telling his congregation that he is a workhorse and he needs a sabbatical- STAT. So, I'm sitting in my seat, cringing a little on the inside, and he said IT.

ANXIETY.

If there is anything that I cannot stand for a pastor to teach on- it is anxiety. Here's the thing: Yes, the bible says you shouldn't worry and that God will take care of it and he will be with you every step of the way. I'm not trying to ignore scripture here. But, as someone who struggles with several diagnosed anxiety disorders...this isn't what I need to hear. It isn't helpful. My biggest struggle with God right now it how he could create me this messed up- hearing that it's my fault and I just need to give it over to God makes me angrier. I have chemical imbalances. I cannot always control my body's reactions to certain triggers. There are times when I can talk myself down or take a PRN medication, but there are times when I have to sit with the anxiety and scream and cry and fling myself to the floor. Hearing someone say I shouldn't worry seems to be oversimplifying the situation. I leaned over to T at this point and whispered in his ear "But, it's just not that easy!". We shared a smile. I thought to myself, "It's okay. You've heard this spill from every single pastor in your life. Deal with it. They will change topics soon enough." As I had that thought, two things happened. The pastor made the comment that he expected the alters to be filled during the response time. *Cringe* He said that there was a lot of anxiety in the congregation (now, I'm thinking "Okay...we are on the right track. Maybe this guy can redeem himself") and people come to him all the time asking for help- but that "it's not that hard".

IT'S. NOT. THAT. HARD.
IT'S. NOT. THAT. HARD.
IT'S. NOT. THAT. HARD.

That statement infuriated me. It was probably the worst thing anybody's ever told me. It was embarrassing and degrading and infuriating and not at all useful. T looked at me and saw the look in my eyes and tried to reassure me that it was okay, and that surely the pastor didn't mean people like me. And meanwhile, the pastor kept harping on the fact that it wasn't that hard to get rid of anxiety and we just needed to have faith and trust God. After about a minute of this madness and realizing that it wasn't stopping anytime soon, I turned to my husband and told him that I wanted to go home. NOW. He didn't question me (after all, he has been dealing with my anxious self over the last seven months), and we got up, walked out of the sanctuary, didn't say a word to anyone, didn't turn in our connection card...we just walked out to the parking lot, got in the car, and drove home. We are never going back to that church again, and to be honest...we may be living in Ohio before I am able to trust a pastor enough to attend a Sunday service again.

Here's the thing- anxiety is hard.

My walks to therapy, for example, were spent outlining with great logical precision the manner in which my state of mind would lead me to complete existential ruin. A typical line of thought went something like this: I am anxious. The anxiety makes it impossible to concentrate. Because it is impossible to concentrate, I will make an unforgivable mistake at work. Because I will make an unforgivable mistake at work, I will be fired. Because I will be fired, I will not be able to pay my rent. Because I will not be able to pay my rent, I will be forced to have sex for money in an alley behind Fenway Park. Because I will be forced to have sex for money in an alley behind Fenway Park, I will contract HIV. Because I will contract HIV, I will develop full-blown AIDS. Because I will develop full-blown AIDS, I will die disgraced and alone.
From freeform anxiety to death-by-prostitution in eight short steps.
-Monkey Mind by Daniel Smith

Anxiety is the hardest thing that I've ever dealt with. Anxiety makes it hard to get up in the morning. Anxiety makes it hard to go to bed at night. Going out in public is terrifying. I have weird quirks. I have an irrational fear of waking up to find that my husband has been raptured and I've been left behind. I'm scared that I'll fall in the oven and burn myself. I have a hard time putting gas in my car, because I'm afraid that if even a single drop of gasoline drips, then I will somehow set the entire gas station on fire and everything will explode and I'll die. I'm afraid...of many irrational things that make no sense when I really think about it..but these anxieties add up and I spend my days thinking of everything that could go wrong.

I'll be the first to admit- this is a miserable way to live. I don't want to have anxiety. I don't want to be anxious. I would love to be rid of it- but it is part of who I am. I'm hoping that my anxieties and obsessions can calm down and get to a more manageable level, but the fact of the matter is- I am surviving. Yes, I'm anxious, but I'm not using destructive behaviors- like restricting or purging or self harm or acting out.  I'm actually doing really amazing right now- aside from the fact that I live my life in a constant state of anxiety attack. I do things to try and fight the anxieties- I take meds, I use essential oils, I try and stick to a comforting routine. I talk about my feelings to my husband and my therapist. I use DBT skills from therapy. I try to do things to calm and soothe myself, I practice self care. But, the fact of the matter is...I have a chemical imbalance in my brain. We've tried loads of med combinations, but most of them have just made things worse, and at least I'm at the point where I can function in society (for the most part) at the moment. I can go places with my husband, even if I am feeling anxious. I can go grocery shopping. I can cook dinner. Sometimes, I can even talk myself through a panic attack without medication. :) But sometimes...I am anxious, and yet? I think God's okay with that.

God made me this way, with all of my little funny things and quirks. God loves me how I am, and he acknowledges that sometimes certain things are hard for me- and I believe that he is okay with that. I have finally (after about two years) reconciled with myself that God will still love me, even if I don't make it to church every Sunday, and even if I still worry. I have finally began to believe that I can be a Christian who has faith, who is also anxious. I can praise God, even when my legs are trembling and my heart is shaking. To hear from the pulpit, from a man that says that he is proclaiming the Word of God, that worrying and anxiety is bad- that hurts. To hear that it is "not that hard to deal with"- it feels demeaning.  I am trying. I am fighting with every fiber in my being, with every ounce of energy I have. I talk back to the anxiety. I pray about it. I try all of the tools in my toolbox, and yet, at the end of the day, I'm still left in this place. At the end of the day, I am still anxious, I am still worried, I am still lying in bed in the dark, trying to tell myself that I can go to sleep, that the smoke alarm will go off, wake me up, and alert me of a house fire.

To anyone in a position of leadership- I have a few things that I ask of you.

• Love me as I am. 
• Lead me to Christ, rather than away from him. 
• When you feel convicted to quote scriptures about worry, do it in a small group setting, in a place where discussion is permitted, so that those of us with spiritual issues concerning anxiety can verbalize them. 
• Take into account what people are going through and how what you say might affect the way they view self, you, your church, and most importantly- GOD. Years of work of God being more than a big man in the sky that wants to judge me because I am not perfect- could be destroyed.
• If you know me, recognize the steps that I'm taking, and feel free to offer to help in any way you can (I prefer the phrase- "Is there anything I can help you with?" rather than "Do you want me to go to the grocery store with you?" It gives me more of an option to say no if I'm not in a place where its safe for me to challenge my fears and obsessions at the moment). 
• I like hugs- but always ask me first. Don't be offended if I say no or not right now. Sometimes, my anxiety manifests itself in a sensory manner and I cannot stand being touched- it will feel like you are assaulting me. 
• Recognize that I am fighting a hard battle and that some days...I may be exhausted.
• Pray. You can always pray for me (but you don't have to tell me- sometimes that makes me feel more self conscious and anxious about it.)

I feel like most of those could be used for other mental health issues, Christian struggles, or addiction recovery.

And here's a list of things, that I'd really like for you NOT to do (and YES, these have been said to me at some point, in some way/shape/form):

• Say that "It's not that hard" or that it's easy. Don't tell me that you were anxious once and you prayed and it went away...trust me, I've been there/done that/didn't work. I've had enough theological debates with Daddy God over this. I don't need you telling me that I "should have been better'. NOT HELPING.
• Tell me that God wouldn't want me to worry/be anxious.
• Tell me that if I was a good Christian, I wouldn't worry.
• Telling me that worriers go to Hell.
• Please never call anxiety a sin.
• Don't ask me how it would make me feel to get to the Pearly Gates and see God and have him say "Well, you worried too much, you can't come in". Or any implication that God and I are going to have a conversation where he chastises me due to my anxious nature.
• Don't point out my quirks- it makes me self conscious and makes my anxiety worse. 
• If I'm flipping out- please don't ask me if I've gone off my meds. It makes me feel childish- if I want you to know the status of my medicating- I'll tell you (obviously, doesn't apply to parents, spouse, or doctors).
• Say "Oh, I have an anxiety disorder, too! I was anxious this one time. I wanted to ask this guy out and I, like totally, had a panic attack, and almost, like, died. For reals." That makes my fight seem silly. That was a temporary anxiety thing...it went away. It didn't affect your everyday life. It didn't keep you from living life. You telling me this is not at all useful.

This isn't really the end of the post, but I'm tired and I can't really think of what else I want to say on the matter. I'm trying not to become infuriated. I'm trying to remember that this pastor was just a man, he is not God, and that he can (and was) wrong. But, damage was done today. My heart is aching. I feel like progress that I had made in accepting who I am and that I can be a Christian that is anxious has been shaken...and I'm very uncertain and unsure. I walked out of church today, and I'm not going back to THAT church. At some point, I will try church again...but I am hurt and confused. I am tired or trying and fighting for it to end up the same way- me leaving, yet again.

I'm not sure what else there is to say...but I'll end this post with this quote.

The only meaningful thing we can offer one another is love. Not advice, not questions about our choices, not suggestions for the future, just love.
― Glennon Doyle Melton

Chicken and Wild Rice Casserole with Bacon Wrapped Green Beans

For dinner tonight, we had a chicken and wild rice casserole with bacon wrapped green beans.

So, I'm my father's daughter. By that- I mean, I have a nasty habit of making really awesome food, but never being able to recreate it...because I didn't follow any one particular recipe or write down my changes...sorry hubs, I know that you loved dinner tonight, but we're never going to have it again. I mean, it's totally not my fault that I don't like following recipes and I prefer to figure out for myself how much to add, right?

Normally, this means we never have it again. I mean, I might try to recreate it, but it doesn't really work out. Tonight I made what T and I have decided is "the best dinner I've ever made". Seriously. It was that great. Now, the interesting thing is that I think I know how I made it. I think. As in, after I admitted to T that I had no idea exactly how I made something that tasted this heavenly, he told me to immediately go write down how I thought I made it and the amounts of various ingredients and stuff. So, obviously, I decided to write it down on my blog. :)

Warning: these recipes could possibly, totally suck. And that's okay. Sometimes things get made and are never made again. But, for my sake and yours, I hope these two recipes are a close recreation to the taste of heaven that T and I experienced tonight.

Chicken and Wild Rice Casserole
What You Need:

• 1 box of wild/long grain rice with seasonings (I used Uncle Ben's)
• 2 cups of chicken (shredded, precooked)
• 1 can of cream of chicken soup
• 1/4 cup of sour cream (this is a totally rough estimate- I took a spatula and scooped some out of the container and called it good)
• 1 and 1/4 cups of chicken broth (aka...I poured a cup and then put in a little bit more)
• A bit of italian seasoning, garlic powder, and black pepper (How much is a bit? I have no idea. I just picked up the seasonings and shook until I got a "happy feeling" in my tummy)

How to Make:

1. Preheat oven to 400.
2. Combine all of the ingredients in a bowl (chicken is cooked, rice is not). Stir. Stir again. And again.
3. Pour into a 9x13 pan.
4. Place in the oven for 45-50 minutes.
5. Enjoy!

Bacon Wrapped Green Beans

What You Need:

• Bacon (One strip per bundle)
• Green beans (3-4 per bundle- we used fresh and snapped off the ends, but you could probably use canned as well...it just might be a little messier, and I'd omit the oil since you wouldn't need the liquid)
• ~2 tbsp Olive Oil (I pour straight from the bottle, so I have no idea how much I really used)
• A bit of italian seasoning, garlic salt, and black pepper

How To Make:

1. Preheat oven to 400.
2. Wrap 3-4 green beans in each slice of bacon. Place each of these bundles in a baking dish.
3. Season the bundles with a little bit of Italian seasoning, garlic salt, and black pepper. 
4. Drizzle a little bit of olive oil over the bundles- EMPHASIS on LITTLE. Bacon grease will collect in the pan, but you need a little bit of oil so that you can roll the bundles in the seasonings.
5. Cover the dish with aluminum foil and bake for 30 minutes.
6. After 35 minutes, remove foil and bake for an additional 15-20 minutes.
7. Bacon should be slightly crispy, and beans should be tender- at this point, remove them from the oven. 
8. Take the bundles out of the pan (it will probably have grease and stuff on the bottom- you want to go ahead and get this soaking in the sink, because it's a pain to clean up), and place on a plate with paper towels on it to remove some of the grease.
9. Enjoy!

Yay! I hope you enjoy this meal as much as we did! Let us know in the comments if you try it out, if you made any wonderful, magnificent changes to yours, or if it totally sucked. :) 

Chocolate Peanut Butter Overnight Oats

Remember those Chocolate-Peanut Butter-Oatmeal No Bake Cookies? You mix chocolate and peanut butter and oatmeal together on a stove, then you stick them on a pan to let them cool...yeah, those might be my favorite kind of cookie. When I set out on my first overnight oats adventure, I wasn't planning on recreating these cookies, but it just so happened to work out that way. Apparently, when you combine peanut butter and Nutella- amazing things JUST HAPPEN. I don't know how or why it always works out, but I don't believe I've ever had a peanut butter/Nutella combo that was bad. I just haven't.

So, I've been looking for some healthy breakfast options recently. Normally in the mornings, I'm quite lazy. I don't really want to spend the time fixing and cooking a bowl of oatmeal, or finding a bowl that is clean to pour milk and cereal in...so I've been ending up eating a lot of Poptarts. Now- don't get me wrong. I firmly believe that there is a time and a place for Poptarts in a healthy diet. Healthy diets require balance- and a little "unhealthy" food is sometimes what is the healthy choice. But, I'm beginning to realize that fueling my body with Poptarts every morning doesn't really keep me going- and I end up mindlessly snacking, forgetting to eat lunch because I'm not hungry, and then I realize "Oh crap. It's 4pm, my husband will be home soon. He's going to ask me what I ate for lunch and I still need to start getting dinner ready." I like the accountability system we have- him making sure that I'm no overexercising or undereating or whatever- and and I realize the importance of sticking to somewhat of a schedule for meal times. It's what's best for my body, and my hunger cues work much more appropriately when I eat at "normal" meal times.

So, as I began my search for healthy breakfast options, I remembered something I had stumbled across on the internet when I first began recovery- overnight oats. I was terribly afraid of them because- well, calories. And how would it fit into my meal plan and exchanges? But now that I'm free from the confines of my meal plan and don't have to stick strictly to the plan...I can see how overnight oats can make a really great breakfast. They're easy, yummy, and since I fix them up the night before (or several nights before), they don't take much time in the morning. I just have to grab the jar from the fridge, grab a spoon, and I'm ready to take on the world! I like to eat these cold, but I've also heard that you can microwave them.

So, have I convinced you that you need to try them yet? Today, I'll be sharing the recipe, just in case you too want in on the Overnight Oats Craze.

What You Will Need:

• 1/4 cup Oatmeal (I use a packet, because that's what I have in the pantry right now, but you could totally use the oatmeal that comes in a canister)
• 1/2 cup Soy Milk (or Almond Milk..you could probably use regular milk- but I like my vanilla soy milk, so I stick to that)
• 1/2 cup Vanilla Yogurt (Sometimes I use Greek, sometimes I use regular- it depends what I grab at the store. But, I always use vanilla flavored- I need the sweetness)
• A scoop of Peanut Butter (I'm a fan of crunchy, because I like finding the peanut pieces in my oatmeal, but that's just me)
• A BIG scoop of Nutella (Or two or three...I'm not sure that the limit of what is too much Nutella exists)

Here's how you make it:

1. Grab a jar/cup/bowl thing to make your oatmeal in. I use these little mason jar cups that I got from our registry and they work perfect.
2. Pour 1/4 cup of oatmeal into your container.
   
3. Pour 1/2 cup of milk and yogurt (yes, both) into the container- on top of the oatmeal. Sometimes it makes a weird bubbly sound. Don't worry about it- it's okay. Sometimes chemical reactiony things just happen- it's only happened to me with regular yogurt, not Greek. (Note: if Greek yogurt isn't particularly your favorite due to the tartness, I might put in a little less.)

   

   Honestly, I normally eyeball the yogurt. Ain't nobody got time for measuring it out.
   Progress, not perfection.

4. Glop on your peanut butter and Nutella. I like to say to use a scoop of peanut butter and a BIG scoop of Nutella- but I really like Nutella (as previously stated). My ratio of peanut butter to Nutella is normally 1:3 or something like that. At least 1:2. Just eyeball it, it's not really a specific thing- it just depends how sweet/salty you like it.
   
5. At this point, you are probably going to wonder what the heck you are preparing. It might look like oatmealy stuff with poop in it- no worries, it will get better. Add a lid and shake (that's why I use a mason jar- you could probably just stir it together in a bowl, but I've never really tried that). I normally put a paper towel on the outside of the jar, just in case stuff starts leaking out. Shake it for...a long time. I don't really know the specifics, but when it stops looking like poop in the jar, and starts looking like chocolate milk- you're probably ready for step 6.

   

   Before shaking and After shaking.
   Don't shake your baby like this, kids.

6. Now, you are going to stick your jar in the fridge and WAIT. This is like the hardest part for me. Nighttime rolls around, I want a snack, I decide to make my overnight oats for the morning...and I look at them longingly. But trust me- these things need to sit for awhile (I let them "sleep" overnight, but I think official recipes say something like 3-4 hours).
7. Wake up in the morning and enjoy your peanut buttery, Nutellay, oatmeal goodness! I like to not stir my oats and eat them kind of clumpily and thick, but you could stir them if you wanted, or you could even heat them up. But me? I like them cold. Enjoy!

Now, as I'm not particularly sure how healthy they are...I'm not sure on the specifics of calories and fat and protein and all that stuff. But I consider this a healthy meal. I mean, it has grains/carbs (oatmeal), protein (greek yogurt and peanut butter), dairy (greek yogurt and soy milk), healthy fats (peanut butter and Nutella)- I think it's a pretty well balanced meal. Sometimes, I eat some fruit if I'm still hungry (but that rarely happens, these are pretty dense and filling)- and I'll normally have another cup of soy milk with my oats (hey- I like my dairy!). All in all, these keep me full until "lunch time"- when I can eat my second meal of the day at a proper time, instead of snacking throughout. Plus, it makes me feel like I'm making a healthy, balanced choice for breakfast. 

If you are interested in seeing some more of my recipes, before I get them posted over here on the blog, feel free to follow me on my food instagram! I was a bit tired of overwhelming my personal instagram (@laurenpotthoff) with food pictures, but I'm really excited about this new adventure I've started- learning how to cook, learning how to make healthy choices. You can find my food pictures at @RealFoodForRealLife. That name is another story for another day, but for now, go make some yummy overnight oats and eat them! Your tummy will thank you!

Who is Wiferella?

My name is Lauren. I am a newlywed (see picture above, I'm the one on the right in the pretty dress- my handsome goofball of a husband is on the left). I am married to my very best friend- I may have had to wait twenty four years for him, but he was totally worth the wait. T is a LT in the US Air Force (we shall call him T on here to protect his identity and keep PERSEC and OPSEC and all that fancy military lingo...I don't want no terrorists tracking my man!). We currently live a town near where I grew up (my parents house is 15 minutes down the road), but we are preparing for our first PCS in the fall. To be honest, I'm a little nervous about moving ten hours away from the only home I really know (we moved here when I was four) and yeah...but I said in my vows that I'd follow him wherever God or the US Air Force led us, so I guess that's life as a military wife.

We got married at a small ceremony about three weeks ago. It was simple, but it was totally us and I loved it. I got to walk down the aisle of the church I grew up in, our families were there, and we had pie (it was on Pi Day!). I can't wait to share more about our day, but I'm waiting for our professional pictures to come back before I recap too much of the wedding. Just know that there were super cute tree stump cupcake stands, a zombie cake, and we wrote our own vows. I think that's enough of a sneak peak, for now. 

I'm a self proclaimed theology nut. I got a Bachelor of Arts in Religion at Huntingdon College, which is located in Montgomery, AL. During the course of my college years, I attended three colleges, had five majors, and finally settled where I did. I'm glad I did, because I really enjoyed my major, but there isn't much you can do with a religion degree, I'm not very interested in going to seminary or becoming a pastor, plus throw in the whole "moving every 2-3 years" thing- it's probably just really good prep work for becoming an awesome stay-at-home, homeschool mom. Right now, I'm a "stay-at-home wife"- and it's actually been pretty fun once I got used to it. I do most of the cooking and cleaning, and I get to spend time with my husband on days when he is off (he works a super weird schedule). 

I'm in recovery from an eating disorder, anxiety, depression, and all sorts of other fun stuff. I fight a daily battle to recover from perfectionism. Basically, I have more issues than the DSM-5 can handle and more issues than Vogue. But, on a positive note- things are going really really amazing at the moment. I'm pretty much recovered from the eating disorder, and I can generally manage the rest with meds, therapy, and my amazing support system. Recovery is the hardest thing that I've ever done in my life- but it's also the best thing I've ever done. Deuteronomy 30: 15-16, 19 is one of my favorite sections of scripture. It reads,

See I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction. For I command you today to love the Lord your God, to walk in his ways, keep his commands; then you will live and increase, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land you are entering to possess…now choose life.

These verses spoke very clearly to my heart. God wants me to choose life.  If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder or any other mental illness, reach out. I'd be glad to talk, contact me at one of the links at the top of the sidebar. Please know that you are never ever alone in your struggle and God loves you- no matter what!

I think that's all for today. I've got a few errands to one- mainly a trip to the grocery store to get the one item I went to the grocery store for earlier...and then walked off without. Oh- and thank you notes. I don't even want to think about those. Thinking about them makes my hand hurt, but I love the feeling of writing a handwritten, heartfelt thank you note! I can't just write "Thanks for the gift. You are awesome."...I have to launch into some grand explanation of how they've changed my life and how we are going to specifically use their present...I'm probably overanalyzing things, but whatever!