Wildflower

My husband recently asked me if I would want to go back to high school if I could and do it all again/over. Without hesitation, I answered, "Hell no." Don't get me wrong. I didn't have a BAD high school experience, necessarily. I made some close friends and didn't get teased or bullied except for the rare occasion from that student that is just a douche to pretty much everyone, but you can pretty much tell that it's because their life at home is terrible. I earned decent grades, was in choir and Teen Institute, babysat on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, and went to football games a couple of times a year. I was obsessed with boy bands and doodling my crush's name throughout notebooks. My best friend and I would spend almost every Friday night together at one of our homes. I didn't try a drink until well after high school was over. I was a religious fanatic, as I was raised to be. I asked people to please not swear around me. I went to a conference every summer with my youth group to gain leadership skills and, mainly, more biblical knowledge and renew the fire. This worked up to my last year.

I graduated high school in 2001. I was 17 years old. That summer I began to challenge everything I had been taught to believe my whole life. I began to search for myself. I remember being seven years old and standing in the bathroom at the church school I attended, staring into my own eyes in the mirror and just sobbing. I didn't know why. I remember throughout high school sitting in front of the mirror in my room, staring into my own eyes, blaring Reflection by Christina Augilara and asking myself, "Who IS this girl??" It felt like I was looking into someone else's eyes. I couldn't make sense of it.

I searched for such a long time for "myself." I wanted labels and I wanted to be able to compartmentalize myself. I wanted to be able to sit down with a clean piece of paper and write down WHO I WAS. As time went by, I realized I didn't have to do that. I don't have to limit who I am by words. I don't have to fit a mold. I don't have to fit into neat little boxes. I've learned, above everything, that every minute of every day I am only growing and changing and what I was yesterday, I may not be today and THAT IS OK. I like myself more every day. I am becoming more and more true to myself.

I have struggled immensely with coming to terms with how I was raised. It has been a part of my roller coaster. I will feel like I have finally accepted everything and let go of resentments and then something will happen or I will speak with someone and those feelings of hurt and anger and...grief, really...will punch me in the stomach again. I know that my parents, like most parents, did the best job they knew how to do. They did as much as they could with what they were given. Their childhoods were not the greatest, either, and they were from the generation where you didn't talk about it. You kept your head up and pretended everything was just great. As long as everything looks good to the outside world (read- church), everything will be fine. This is not me.

I wear my heart on my sleeve. I am emotional and I don't stuff that down. I say what is on my mind. If you hurt me or make me angry, I will take my time to think of how to express my feelings best, and will confront you about it. Things aren't always fabulous. Things aren't even always just ok. Sometimes things suck! I was raised where prayer can fix everything and anything and if it doesn't, then that is God's way of telling you "No." I prayed constantly through high school. I prayed walking through the halls at school. I prayed at the bus stop. I prayed laying in bed sobbing for no reason. I prayed while I wrote a letter to all my family and friends just in case I died. If I wasn't so religious and didn't think suicide was the ultimate sin, that letter could have been considered a suicide note. I didn't want to DIE, exactly, I just didn't want to be here anymore.

I don't blame my parents for missing all of the signs that I was depressed. They had their hands full with my autistic brother, full time jobs, and further education. The squeaky wheels get the oil, and I was silent. I locked myself away in my room most of the time. I don't know if they ever wondered what I was doing in there. I was usually sleeping. I slept a lot. I would come home from school, scarf down food and watch soaps until I saw my mom pull into the driveway or until I went to get my autistic brother off the bus, then I would head upstairs and go to sleep until dinner. Then I would talk to my best friend on the phone in my room, and get on the computer for the rest of the night.

On the computer, I met my now husband. I was fascinated by his attitude. The first time we "spoke", he asked my at the end of the conversation if he had made me smile. His goal in life was to make everyone he met smile at least once. That stuck with me and is what made me want to talk to him again and again. In college I was laying on the floor crying to him on the phone, and he told me that my happiness was the most important thing. That stuck with me. He still tells me that today. I had never really considered it before.

To that point I wasn't really making choices, officially, in my own life. I mean, I was, but not conscious ones. I was more reacting to my circumstances. As children and teens, there is only so much you can control. Your environment and your family is your environment and your family. I was such a thinker, I would see my schoolmates making these terrible choices to completely violate any rules. When I even thought about doing that, I could just see things getting worse and worse. I didn't even talk back. I was so used to being seen and not heard, any of my "childish" opinions being wrong, and adults being the ultimate authority that I never even thought about straying. I wrote letters to my parents about difficult things. I couldn't verbalize to them. I needed to organize my thoughts and not be present when they were put forth. By the time I began questioning things, I didn't feel I could speak about my doubts. I didn't know where to look for council. Everyone surrounding me would only be critical and aghast at my searching for my own truth instead of blindly accepting the "truth" that had been put upon me since conception.

As I searched, I felt a constant rage and turmoil inside of me to the point that I couldn't focus on anything else. My whole foundation was crumbling, and that made me extremely unstable. Since my own truth, whatever it was going to be, was no longer that of the community (again, read- church) my family and I were surrounded by, I was no longer fully accepted. I was whispered and prayed about. I no longer wished to be a part of that community but since I still lived with my parents, was forced to continue to be present in it physically. The only place I found solace at this point was in a relationship. At one point, I was so unstable and unhappy that my boyfriend and his family at the time realized how badly I needed to be out of my living situation. This was the beginning of me truly discovering my truth because I was finally truly free to do so.

The journey since then has been incredible. There were several more years of me trying to discover HOW to find my truth. My depression has had many ups and many lows. Once I moved to Jacksonville to be with my husband, I finally had some true sunshine and bright spots in my life. I found the perfect place to grow!!! I feel like I have blossomed. I am happy in my skin. I am happy with who I am and what I don't believe in. I am trying to create, with my husband, an environment where my children can express themselves and find their own truth. I see the relationships that friends have with their parents and I want to make sure that my children can have that with us when the time comes. I want to be supportive of their choices, even if they are not what I would choose. They are not me. They are their own people and I want them to choose their own path. I want to be able to be present for that. I wish I had that kind of relationship with my own parents. I wish they were my closest friends, biggest supporters, and greatest acceptors. I have yearned for that my entire life. I cannot change the things that are, though, and I have learned through time that the only person I can control is me. My sister often says, "You have to meet people where they are." I have come to accept myself and my family relationships for what they are, but I am hell bent on making sure that my own family dynamic is different.

I'm a wildflower, and my winds of change have turned me into the person I am today. I love myself (most of the time) and I love my life. I love the people I have chosen to surround myself with. I love that I have finally been able to chase my dream, and that I have proven pretty damn good at it. How much more will I bloom? I am enjoying nurturing myself and am excited to see the continuing changes and growth.

Choices

I've had so many posts that I have started to create in my head, but haven't actually sat down to write them. I need to get back into the habit of writing weekly. Summer is here (YAY!) so we are working on getting into a new routine. I am adoring having more time with Harmony and as a family. I am realizing more every single day how everything else is just a means to spend time with the girls and Marc. Even doing what I love at work doesn't even come close to providing me with the peace and fulfillment that I feel when with my family.

Recently, I had to make a choice when it came to work and family. I was scheduled to work the day of Layla's FIRST ballet recital and there was "nothing that could be done." The decision was a split second one, and as a mama bear, there was no moving me. I had to be at her recital. I couldn't miss it. That was that. I didn't, in that moment, give a damn about who I made upset or and repercussions. Even now, I don't regret the stance I took even one iota. Her performance was amazing and there was nowhere, NOWHERE else I was willing to be that night. The look on her face up there was just so full of happiness. I couldn't stop beaming. There were hundreds of people there, and she wasn't afraid or nervous even one little bit! She shone on that stage, full of little girl confidence and pride. I soaked up every second. The whole situation, and three days off last week, made me realize how much I want every second possible with these girls. It made me miss being a stay at home mommy. We went to the beach two days in a row and stayed until we were exhausted from the sand, sun, and surf. It was amazing. I felt so alive and happy. I love that feeling.

Changes

It's been awhile since I posted last. There have been a few times that I have started writing posts in my head, but have failed to make it to the computer while inspired to actually type them. I, like many people, have always had a really hard time with changes. This complicates life because, as we all know, changes are inevitable, unpredictable, and frequent. Many times they come unbidden, and this lack of control scares the hell out of me. Again, as many people do, I tend to resist these changes with my whole being. If I pretend they aren't happening, or aren't soon going to happen, or if I refuse to change WITH them, it won't affect me! Right?! Well of course that's not right. Changes happen whether we want to accept them or not, whether we acknowledge it happening or not, and whether or not we change ourselves, as well. Recently, Marc and I were able to go to Orlando for a weekend without the children. This type of weekend getaway has not happened since before Harmony was born. It was long overdue, and very much needed. We had a fun afternoon together at Islands of Adventure riding roller coasters and thrill rides. We were just together doing something fun. We purposely left all things stressful behind and made our best effort to have some time experiencing something new and fun. I moved here from Ohio and we immediately were living together, got married a month later, and had Harmony a year later. We never really had much time to "date" and make those kinds of memories together. We have been through our share of extremely difficult and challenging things which has made us a stronger couple, but we need to even out the balance of fun things experienced together, too. We finally have a much broader support group in place here filled with people we trust to take care of our children, so this is becoming more possible. The next day, Marc had a conference to go to and Jenn, Marc's cousin that we stayed with, had to work. I had a rare day completely to myself. Since I was at someone else's home, I didn't feel the need to clean or be productive. I laid in the sun and read books, worked out, then went to the little "downtown" area in the development Jenn lives in. I parked and walked around, going into little shops that caught my eye. One of these was a little coffee shop filled with leather armchairs and a wall filled with books to browse.

I ordered a coffee and plopped myself into an armchair in front of the wall of books. I began to scan the shelves. I had plenty of time, and reading is one of those things that I have always enjoyed to the fullest since I was five years old. I collected a short stack of books to choose between. One of these books was "Who Moved My Cheese?" A former employer had given this book to a coworker at one point in time, which made me a little hesitant to dive in, but it was short and looked like an easy read. The cover spoke to me, as well, as it said that it was an "A-mazing way to deal with change". Well, hell. I definitely was having trouble with THAT. I figured I may as well give it a shot. I quickly made my way through the book, snapping pictures of certain passages that were speaking to me. One of the biggest themes that jumped out at me from the book was, "What would you do if you weren't afraid?" Anxiety is one of my biggest stumbling blocks. I continuously assume the worst will happen, or think what the worst could be. What would I do if I weren't afraid? The list began to form in my head. The biggest, perhaps obviously, would be opening my own bakery. What is stopping me? Fear. As I reviewed the notes I had snapped on my phone, I started to get excited. I've just been floating through my life lately. Day in, day out, going through the motions, not expecting things to get better, and hoping they wouldn't get worse, but not taking any action to change things. Change is scary. But, "Whenever he started to get discouraged he reminded himself that what he was doing, as uncomfortable as it was at the moment, was in reality much better than staying in the Cheeseless situation. HE WAS TAKING CONTROL, RATHER THAN SIMPLY LETTING THINGS HAPPEN TO HIM." "When you move beyond your fear, you feel free." "Haw kept thinking about what he could gain instead of what he was losing. He wondered why he had always thought that a change would lead to something worse. Now he realized that change could lead to something better." I started to formulate a list of things I can do, RIGHT NOW, to begin moving in the direction of opening my bakery. I don't have a specific timeline, but I have an order of things to do to MAKE THAT HAPPEN for myself eventually. I can't just stand still anymore. If I want it, I need to write it down, not just have the dream floating in my head. A dream is something you wish for and think about. A goal is something you write down and have an action plan to achieve. My bakery used to be a dream. Now it is a goal. That weekend in Orlando was full of soul searching and reconnecting, not only with Marc, but with myself. It's amazing what you can relearn about yourself if you simply take the time to be quiet and listen. It had been so long since I asked myself, "What do I WANT to do today" not "What do I NEED to get done today." I was nice to have a date with myself. I had missed me.

Motherhood

Motherhood can be tricky. There is such a fine line that will be walked for eternity that is the balance between taking care of your children, and making sure that your own needs are met so you can continue taking care of your children. I know that personally, I have always had an issue carving out time for myself. I hate asking for that time. It makes me feel selfish. It makes me feel like a bad parent to need a break. I feel like I should WANT to be with the kids all the time...especially since I am working and spending less time with them. I feel guilty. I always hear, "You have to take care of yourself before you can truly take care of others." My head comprehends this, but there is a difference between comprehending something and accepting the truth of it. I think mothers have a harder time taking the time for themselves, too, simply because we are wired differently than men. Marc, and many other fathers I know of, put in extremely long hours at work, seeing the kids for minimal quantities of time for long stretches in our lives. I am so grateful that I am married to a man who is willing to do this to make sure we are all provided for. I don't have that mental capability. When I don't see the kids, I begin to fall apart at the seams. I have an intrinsic NEED- not a want, a NEED- to connect with them daily, to check in and make sure they are emotionally ok, that school is going well and they aren't having problems with friends or teachers, to know what they are worried or joyful about that day. Marc just got a new schedule at work that requires him to be at work at 2PM three days a week. Our days off are now the same, so we have a "weekend" together...it's just during the middle of the week. This is going to be amazing, especially once summer comes and Harmony is off school. We can do things together as a complete family during the day, not just squeezed into a family night after swimming on Thursdays. The one thing that bothers me, though, is that until school is out, Harmony will not see Marc or I except for briefly in the morning, three days each week. This hurts my mommy heart. I have been leaving her little notes this week just so she is reassured I love her. I know she knows. I still just want to make sure our connection stays strong. With this change, I feel even more guilty taking any time for myself. Couple that with Marc working at sharing Visalus, and I feel guilty for asking him to take time away from that so I can have time alone. I need that though. I wouldn't call myself a hermit or anything like that, but I need time to recenter and reconnect with MYSELF, too. I have just always needed/enjoyed time by myself. I don't mind being alone. Sometimes after a busy, noisy day, I enjoy turning down the lights and just sitting in silence and semidarkness and breathing. I need that peace. I am so thankful to be at a place where Ohana, family, is important. I'm surrounded by those with families, and who understand that sometimes parenthood is messy. I'm thankful that Adam understands the difference in men and women and their built in need to take care of their children themselves. I don't want to spend minimal amounts of quality time with my kids...I want to RAISE THEM. I want to parent them. I want to shape them into responsible human beings who will contribute to our society. This requires hands on parenting, not shipping them off to sitters all the time. But there has to be a balance. I struggle so hard to find that balance. The balance where the kids have enough of my time to be correctly loved and parented, where my marriage has the time and effort devoted to it so it thrives and flourishes, where the house is taken care of, where I spend time exercising and maintaining my health, and where I can spend enough time researching and learning that my work life continues to grow and excel. Where does personal time fit into all that? I know that I am not the only mother that feels this way, so as Mother's Day approaches...take some time for yourself! :)

This and That

There a couple of new things that are on the menu right now. Awhile back, Adam had the idea of trying to smoke marshmallows in the altosham so they taste like they were done over a campfire. I decided to make a s'more cheesecake using this idea. There is a graham cracker crust, a chocolate ganache, and a marshmallow cheesecake layer made with the cold smoked marshmallows. I then make some homemade graham crackers to go with it, and a red marshmallow ganache on the side.

We have also had numerous requests to bring back a pineapple upside down cake that used to be on the menu before I came to Roy's. That is also back on the menu, replacing the almond cake that was on the menu for quite some time. It comes with coconut ice cream made in house, and I added a maraschino cherry chutney. I mean, come on! What's pineapple upside down cake without the cherry?!?

I decided, since I had my camera available, to take a picture of this season's Prix Fixe dessert, too. The spring dessert is a PB+J. This is a banana pound cake with a strawberry gel, fresh strawberries, a peanut butter mousse, and a peanut butter banana tuille. I have a love/hate relationship with this dessert. I really am not a huge fan of the banana extract used in the cake. It tastes like a banana runt/airhead. People either seem to love or detest this dessert. I do like the peanut butter mousse and the strawberry gel, but not the banana components. I think it would be better with a peanut butter cake and a banana mousse, if banana is included at all. I, personally, never ate bananas on my PB+J's, though, and could do without that flavor component.

Another recent task was to recreate someone's top tier of their wedding cake in cupcake form for their one year anniversary. This was a fun task, and I didn't get pictures of the final canoe, but I added heart shaped sugar cookies with a white royal icing and a silver rose painted on them. They were packaged in cellophane bags and tied with a ribbon. There was one bag of two cookies with roses on each side and one in the center that said "Hauoli Piha Makahiki" (Happy Anniversary). The cupcakes were red velvet with cream cheese frosting, topped with a thin layer of fondant to paint on and give a clean look.

Day 28 Update

Monique Burr- the biggest event to date

April has been a crazy whirlwind of a month. Layla's birthday was followed by Easter, followed by a wedding cake, and finally, the culmination of it all, the Monique Burr event. Monique Burr is an organization that advocates for abandoned and abused children. Every year, Roy's heads up an event called A Night in the Village. The parking lot is transformed into a "village" with lights, fences, trees, tables, a stage, etc and the businesses in our plaza open their doors for special treats and shopping with all the ticket and sales proceeds going to the Monique Burr Foundation. In the past, there has been approximately five hundred attendees. This is the biggest event I have prepared for to date. The stress level at work has been through the roof this last month. Event after event, combined with management vacations and conferences left us all on edge and the usual back of the house spirit was definitely a little more tense. I've been feeling the pressure. We began preparing for the event a couple of months ago. We determined the dishes and I created a detailed timeline to make sure everything was prepared in time. It all went off without a hitch. I didn't feel much stress as far as the actual dishes were concerned. My stress was definitely more of a social thing. Roy Yamaguchi himself attends this event, as well as many of the Executive Chefs of the Roy's on the East Coast. Back of the house is not very big, and having an extra five Chefs plus food to serve 500 people only makes the space that much smaller. I'm used to having the back of the house/pastry area mostly to myself, and many (influential) people were in my personal space. I did my best to grin and bear it, but I definitely needed a couple of Ativan to make it through.

The day of the event, I was prepping and Roy Yamaguchi walks around the corner. I have gloves on my hands since I am preparing ready to eat food. I have to make a split second decision. Do I shake his hand wearing a glove, or do I take off the glove and shake his hand with a sweaty, just-ungloved-so-kind-of-powdery hand. I opted for the ungloved handshake and as he walked away after a quick head nod and "nice to meet you", quickly face palmed myself. I just shook Roy Yamaguchi's hand...and my hand was gross and sweaty and powdery. I quickly shook it off and realized that he has definitely been in this business long enough to understand, and was thankful I was wearing the glove to begin with. My favorite dish of the night was my Kaffir Lime Curd Tarts with a Ginger Meringue and my Signature Sugar Cookie base. The idea for this was my own, and I love how they turned out.

We also had Cannolis stuffed with a Haupia (traditional coconut pudding) cannoli filling. Some had a brunoise of pineapple folded in, and some had chocolate shavings folded it.

Natane was in charge of the Ice Cream for the Teeny Tiny Ice Cream Cones. She made pistachio and nutella ice creams, and a blueberry sorbet. She spent most of the night in the freezer scooping ice cream. THAT is dedication.

Our final dessert was a Yuzu Pound Cake with Mirin Macerated Strawberries and a Basil Whipped Cream. It was a new take on Strawberry Shortcake and went over very well.

Overall, the event couldn't have gone any smoother. I learned quite a bit and am proud of the success of the event. I'm extremely glad that it is over for the year, however. Now that I have done one of these events, I have a better idea going into the next one what to expect.