Happy October Unprocessed!

All new eating regimes sound fantastic to me...until Sunday morning when I'm trying to pull together the meal plan and grocery list. This is when the full realization of what we can't eat sets in. It's not the longing for the newly-taboo foods that gets me; it's the sheer and utter lack of creativity in replacing these foods with better options that induces near panic.

Thankfully, I have a pencil, a notebook, an iPad, and the entire interweb at my disposal. Oh, I also have tightness in my chest and sweaty palms because even with the ENTIRE INTERWEB at my disposal, I still have no idea what to make!

GAHHHHH!

As I pull it together breathing deeply the little voice tiptoes in saying, "you've got this", "you're so close", "you have all the tools you need to do this". And, the biggest tool of all (um...I mean my biggest source of strength and inspiration) is my husband.

Jeff is our executive chef and always has been. My interest in cooking prior to our marriage started and stopped with baking. As a kid, Jeff participated in family cook nights, had a foodie stepmother, and lots of exposure to fine dining (aka "fancy" meals with shrimp or "special occasions" with lobster). His love of food combined with his natural ingenuity made Jeff the ideal college cook. With almost no discernible ingredients in the fridge or pantry, he could  pull off a gourmet display. His talent was uncanny and infallible. Now, instead of delighting college drunks (or about-to-be drunks or hungover-from-last-night drunks), he brings culinary joy to the Roche brothers and their mother. Thank you, Jeff, for appearing nightly in our kitchen and helping us succeed at the October Unprocessed challenge!

Jeff is also the procurer of groceries very late this Sunday night (so late, in fact, that he closed Whole Foods), for which he deserves equal credit and praise. GOLD STAR, SWEETNESS! I am ready to rock this challenge together.

Anticipating October Unprocessed

I step into the sunlight each day and wonder how I can make the world better for my children. Can I love them in such a way that they will never doubt their self worth? Can I be softer with them when they experience the painful sting of frustration? Can I encourage them more vigilantly? Can I teach them something with more passion? Can I help them learn life’s real lessons outside their textbooks? These questions and more are continual works of cerebral deliberation, including am I feeding them “right”.

For me, the nutrition questions go to the heart of matters as much as the nurture questions. I imagine Jeff and myself as farmers growing whole children – minds, spirits, and bodies. There’s no manual, and the healthy eating field has left me increasingly perplexed. Is chicken okay or is even organic chicken filled with too many toxins? Can we eat red meat regularly or only once a month? How much sugar is too much? And, HOW CAN I GET MY BOYS TO EAT VEGETABLES??? I don’t have the answers, but I do have the curiosity and commitment to search for them. (Side note: I also have an insanely high sense of “good grades= good girl” which provides me with the tenacity to never quit my pseudo-academic pursuits.)

Next on our family’s journey to find the elusive answers is the October Unprocessed challenge from Eating Rules. The rules are simple (thank you, dear Lord, for hearing my prayer and providing some simplicity here!): (1) when you eat grains, eat 100% whole grains, (2) don’t eat anything with high fructose corn syrup, and (3) don’t eat hydrogenated oils, trans-fats, or anything that’s been deep fried. Simple, and, for the most part, we’re already there as a family. Food rules creator, Andrew Wilder, also adds the kitchen test to determine if food counts as “processed”: unprocessed food is anything that could be made by a person of reasonable skill in a home kitchen with whole-food ingredients. Really making sure ALL of our food meets this test, especially where the kids are concerned, will require some adjustments (e.g., not making them Annie’s Organic Mac and Cheese for a side dish every night, because at least it’s organic, right?).

Wish us luck and love this October as we nourish our bodies with unprocessed foods while avoiding the temptations of Papa John’s pepperoni pizza, homemade chocolate chip cookies, Dunkin Donuts coffee with cream and sugar, Georgetown red velvet cupcakes, salty French fries,  Caroline’s caramel cake…..ooh, that hurts! Perhaps you could wish us luck and love AND fortitude of will!   

Calvert Cliffs

Now that it's Fall, typical weekends involve soccer on Saturday mornings, chores, grocery runs, and hopefully something deemed "fun" for the kids. Last weekend, we hiked Calvert Cliffs State Park and scoured the beach for shark teeth. The 3.6 mile hike was fun for the boys - streams, marshland, turtles, lillypads, trees, and a mainly flat terrain. Once on the beach we picnicked before starting our search. Brice found a tidal pool and abandonned all other efforts. Finn, Jeff, and I sifted through the sand and found one large shark tooth, enough to call the mission a success. Then, thanks to Jeff shuttling Brice on his shoulders for more than half the hike back, we played on the tire playground before heading home just in time for Sunday yoga.  Phew!

Thanks to Jeff and the boys for a great weekend!

What We Did on Our Summer Vacation(s)

This summer saw us well traveled! And, at times car sick, jet lagged, and downright exhausted. Here is the cliff notes version of our trips:

Lake Cumberland

The Roche/Giannone clan visited Lake Cumberland, Kentucky for a long weekend. The water was beautiful - so inviting that we spent the majority of the vacation marinating ourselves in lake water. The kids (okay, everyone) enjoyed a three-story waterslide, tubes, and jumping off the second story of the boat into the lake below. Our fun was childlike, beautiful in its simplicity and wholesomeness, and just plain amazing for the soul. We hiked the shores looking for treasure (driftwood, rocks, and quartz), and enjoyed lots of low-key family time. What's not to adore about a vacation spent entirely barefoot and almost entirely in our bathing suits?

Finn dubbed our destination "Nantucky", prompting lots of jokes about the difference between Nantucket and Kentucky. Rich people take their private planes to Nantucket; we take our SUV to Kentucky. Rich people have private chefs; we have coolers in the back. Rich Rich people go yachting; we rent houseboats.

Speaking of the houseboat.....it was the MEGACAT! Yes, we had the biggest boat on the lake, much to Jeff's delight. The three stories of fun included a hot tub, waterslide, bar, multiple levels of decks, eight staterooms, seven bathrooms, and a great living area. Redneck yachting at its finest, and we enjoyed every minute!

Breckenridge, Colorado

Our second adventure of the summer was out to Breck for a wedding. (Congrats to Evan and Kate Mahan!) Pat and Marilee rented a great house for 22 of us (yes, that's 22!) with astounding mountain views. This was my first time seeing "real" mountains, and I was in love with the beauty of nature. The boys and their cousins quickly found a mountain stream in the quaint downtown that they explored fully (a.k.a - wet kids!). We spent some time at an amusement park on the slopes - luge-style rides, a sled coaster on rails, and a bungee trampoline experience that allowed even me to do flips. And, we enjoyed the shops and restaurants in the cute downtown; Jeff and I love a good main street!

After the lovely wedding, we made a daytrip down to Fairplay, CO to do a wildflower hike. While we never found the anticipated hike, we did find burro days - a local celebration that involves a burro race where you run 29 miles tied to a donkey. We also found some abandonned mines and some time to hike Mount Sherman. It was a very cool slice of earth to stumble upon. The next day we drove up Mount Evans, the highest paved road in North America. (Does it count as summiting a mountain if you do it in a Suburban?)

Mount Whitney and Vegas

Labor day weekend we traveled out to Vegas and onto Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the lower 48. I've never seen Vegas, and 24 hours there was enough for me. We enjoyed the pool and cabana at Mandalay Bay during the day and rented a limo to see the lights on the strip at night. The boys liked the limo even better than the lights, I think. It was perfect! Then, I was done.

The next day we caravaned (us in a Suburban, Trent in a Porshe) through Death Valley to Mount Whitney Portal, where we camped two nights. We had a fantastic time seeing Jeff's San Diego cousins and meeting their mother's family. In all, there were 44 of us extended family members enjoying the clean Sierra air and the stream that trickled right through our group campsite. This was the first time Jeff and I camped with the boys. They had a blast! Jeff survived.

We also tested our new hiking boots and my new (thank you, Jeff!) Cambelback daypack on the trails of Mount Whitney, hiking nearly 6 miles to Lone Pine Lake. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the lake was breathtaking and well worth the effort. I think we've caught the hiking bug, for sure. We're already looking forward to a possible summit attempt next year, though a 22 mile dayhike to the highest peak in the contiguous U.S. is daunting, to say the least.

We spent our last night in California renweing our gratitude for running water after three days in the woods. Dearest showers, how we will never take thee for granted again!



Our summer 2012 was packed with adventure! Many, many thanks to our wonderful family who made outstanding travel companions...mostly.

Summoning Joy for the School Year

I promise that sometimes I am just happy. The kind of happy that starts in the soles of my feet and moves through me with easy ujjayi breaths. The kind that radiates from inside and outside, feeding from and offering nurture to everything I greet. The kind that simply is.

Back to school, however, does not fill me with that sense of happiness. I feel nerves over new schedules, new teachers, new procedures, not to mention actual panic over the medical forms that I submitted to the pediatrician on the day they were due! I feel guilt over whether I’ve done enough  and bought enough to prepare my children for the year ahead, the materialism I try to deny inflating and infuriating the ego I try to keep at bay. And, since my mother was a teacher, there is a subtle sweet longing for her that lingers this time of year, a reminder that I still haven’t accepted her loss forever.

Before we wait for the bus next Monday, Finn donning his “sporty and hikey” backpack and Brice proudly toting his beloved big brother’s old pack to preschool, I will work through my complicated emotions, embracing joy, vitality, and light, so that I can be a beacon shining positive energy for my children as they embark on their new journey, finding their way home to me each night. I will welcome all the wonderful things this wonderful year has to offer the entire family - new friends, new learning experiences, new achievements, and deeper connections to this big, beautiful universe.

Finn and Brice: Within you lies everything you need. You are ready, you are set, so enjoy all that lies ahead. Mama’s got nothing but love for you and this exciting new year! 

The Rambling Roches' Road Home

I have called 13 places home since I was 18. (I’m 34.) Jeff and I have lived in 5 states since we joined paths at 21.

We’re not gypsies or even hippies. That would give us unearned cool points, the kind of points they quickly remove when you use the phrase “cool points”. I would love to share stories about backpacking through Tibet where we scaled mountains and greeted spiritual gurus, but those weren’t the kind of adventures we chose. Sure, like all free-spirited twenty-one year olds with a little money and a lot less direction, we talked about doing those kinds of things. Instead, after three months of what could only loosely be described as dating, we held each other’s hands, jumped off the cliff that was the safety and insanity of our families of origin, propelling ourselves, free-falling with sheer terror and overwhelming joy, into the atmosphere of adulthood, hopeful for an eventual soft landing someplace beautiful. We loaded a U-Haul trailer, combined our collegial possessions, and rented a house in suburban Savannah, GA. At the age of 22, we provisioned our lodging with a washer and dryer on the first Friday night of our cohabitation. At age 23, we embarked on the trail of homeownership. By age 26, we summited marriage, and, at 27, we were the first among our friends to explore the jungle that is parenthood.

Despite the utter boringness of spirit that led us to venture into ordinary suburban living rather than international travel- the kind of plainness so insidious that it manifests in beige walls and tan couches and completely white plates – for over a decade, we continued in the thrill of that initial free-fall, wondering where our eventual soft landing would be. We threw away perfectly spectacular existences to try life anew somewhere different, the change a bittersweet relief each time. The sadness to leave what we loved combined with the excitement of fresh beginnings always enticed us to move along rather than remain and endure. (Perhaps here is where I should confess that I, and not Jeff, am usually the impetus behind our moves.)

Enter children, school-age children.

Since our son Finn was born, we’ve moved 4 times. (He’s 6.) We’ve lived in our current home since October. He’s already begging for a new and different one. But now he’s in school, and not just the daycare that we dub “school” to appease my working-mother guilt - actual public school that we pay for with our taxes. He has friends in our town that aren’t just the children of our friends that we pretend are his friends - real friends whose parents we don’t even like. 

And so, it seems it is time for us to land softly (and more permanently) in a beautiful place, for ourselves and for our children. We begin a new adventure by boldly remaining in one place for years, possibly even decades. My heart quickens at the challenge, and I gulp down a few big breaths!

We really have enjoyed some amazing adventures making our life together, deciding where to make our soft landing, where to call home. We didn’t undertake the kind of expeditions you’d read in Outdoor Magazine, but we learned simple, powerful, personal lessons about what it means to find home, plumeting through the universe with only one another until we got there. We’ve learned that kind neighbors make all the difference, that an old barn sign looks great in any house, and that living near the water speaks to our souls. And yes, you guessed it, like all who journeyed before us we found that home is wherever the four of us are together. There is a vivid thrill and a subtle, warm sense of accomplishment in discovering that we are joyful in our ordinary lives, no matter where we fall.

Jeff: Thank you for taking this jumping off that cliff with me, for enjoying the fall in all its wonder, and for always supporting our soft landing. I can love you anywhere.

Let them eat zucchini.

Last night marked a big milestone in our healthy lifestyle: we cooked something we grew! Yes, for the first time ever, I picked a veggie from the garden and served it to the family. It was wholesome, sweet, and incredibly rewarding. As a side to the porkchops (that were deemed inedible because the paint on the grill embedded itself in the meat - guess we need to add grill to our Christmas list), we had garden-fresh zucchini sauteed in coconut oil, another first for us. While this isn't perhaps a lifechanging moment, it is a moment where I can reflect that, yes, I am stepping closer to the person I'm meant to be - one who sustains and nurtures her family in a healthy, green way.

PS: The incredibly veggie-resistant boys even took a bite. Brice was not a fan, but Finn looked convincingly pleased.