#1430 Home made pizza

I’m trying to set a good example for baby girl whenever I can.

A massive part of that example is teaching her what I learnt growing up…

Home made is best.

She already tells me that my gingerbread and banana bread is better than any bought variety, and just recently even said she loved my pasta sauce… and she doesn’t even eat that much of it.

What I bake and make doesn’t have to receive world-class awards. If baby girl can see that what I made in our kitchen tastes better than anything commercially bought or packaged, my job here is done.

Learning this is a life-long task though. I still fall into traps of buying things that I think might be okay, but then I end up terribly disappointed afterwards. That’s why I’m always teaching, always talking to baby girl about what is good and healthy for her.

I don’t like to be preachy, or all “Don’t eat that!” with her. Rather like today at the shops, I asked her if she wanted me to buy some watermelon, and she said yes. I then threw in the info that they have lots of water and are naturally sweet, and much better for you than sugary treats and chocolate.

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But it wasn’t just watermelon on our shopping list today. We were buying pizza-making ingredients, because baby girl asked for us to make a pizza!

Before I get too excited over my good influence on her, it was TOTALLY NOT MY INFLUENCE.

I know because she told me… she had watched her favourite doll role-play channel on youtube and the dolls had made their own pizza with green peppers and brown onion and pepperoni and that’s why she wanted to make it!

Well what do you know? Youtube is actually teaching something.

So we went on a shopping trip. To buy green peppers (I told them in Australia we say capsicums), pepperoni (only to go on Hubbie’s side of the pizza once she realised they were spicy) and some other delicious and fresh toppings like ham, mushrooms and fresh mozzarella.

FRESH MOZARELLA! Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.

At home I chopped it up and she helped me top the pizza base… the best bit.

Before…

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And after

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It smelt so good coming out of the oven, and we had created it ourselves!

The only modification for next time…

Make two. We smashed that ‘one’ easily.

 

#1422 ‘Twas the ‘second’ night before Christmas…

What? She must have her dates wrong you say.

No siree.

It really is the night before Christmas… for those of Orthodox faith.

It’s an interesting thing to celebrate two Christmases throughout your life. It’s a privilege now awarded to baby girl as she joins in the doubled up of festivities.

Growing up, although the primary Christmas we celebrated was on the traditional Westernised date of December 25th, due to my Mum’s background and heritage we were always aware of at the very least, if we weren’t helping our relatives celebrate the Orthodox Christmas day of January 7th.

Seeing as Hubbie’s family is also of Orthodox faith, this acknowledgement and acceptance has grown and continued. All of my life, family and friends around me have celebrated this day… I have been to countless Christmas parties and participated in token Orthodox traditions, drank and ate and been merry on this holiest of days.

Which nationalities celebrate this day you might ask? Well there are Macedonians, Serbians, Polish, Russian, and Greek, to name a few…

I think it’s important to respect and value other traditions, even those that we may not be privy to or understand in the fullest.

Just as living in Australia, I believe that Australian customs should be respected and appreciated by all those who choose to call this country their home, so too do I believe the reverse should be norm: Aussies should respect the traditions and heritage of those with customs and holidays from far off our shores.

Including a different Christmas.

Sometimes I hear a bit of ignorance. One side might discount the other, calling theirs the ‘real Christmas.’

I think this is a bit sad. I don’t think we should be arguing over religion and politics and trying to up our own stance by discounting the other.

Why can’t we all respect each other’s traditions while still enjoying our own?

THIS GOES BOTH WAYS.

Baby girl went to bed tonight excited. She was asking if Santa would come again… I told her he only makes one stop a year, but that there would still be PRESENTS.

We did the majority of presents on the Westernised Christmas day, but I have an inkling she will get something. ๐Ÿ˜‰

A second Christmas for a kid? That’s like a second birthday!

She, and we, are fortunate to have double the Christmases, every year. โ™ฅ

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Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

 

#1377 A serving from Mum

I got told off today by my Mum.

I liked it.

We try to be strong, try to be brave as we grow up. We try to do things on our own and not ask for help EVER… because we can do it all by ourselves.

That is a lie. Every now and then, you need help.

And every now and then, it helps to remember where you came from. From your mother’s arms. From your mother’s heart. From your mother’s deepest place of growth and nurturing.

And that in turn reminds you, how little you are. How frail and helpless and childlike you can be.

Therefore, how little you know.

I was glad to get her mock-threatening scolding tone today. I didn’t realise how much I missed it… maybe I needed it, because it reminded me I was loved.

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It helps to feel little sometimes.

 

#1343 Making palacinke

I had a few things today that had me feeling grateful.

But nothing more so than when I walked back into my parents house following my hairdressers appointment, and baby girl ran up to me grinning: “Mama, Baka and I are making pancakes!”

Firstly, omg so cute.

Secondly, yummy.

Third… ‘palacinke’ (pronounced, pa-la-chin-keh) is translated from Croatian to English to mean pancakes… but really, it’s a crepe.

A deliciously soft and crispy wafer-thin crepe. Soft in that it’s so smooth and light when you bite into it, and crispy in that sometimes it gets this crisp outer layer, on top of the soft layer, when it is fried up really thin.

Drool.

Baby girl had already had a round making them with my mum. Both she and I were equally thrilled about that. She, because well, pancakes, and I because…

Well, it was part of my upbringing.

It’s part of my heritage.

And most importantly, she was partaking in this delicious family tradition with my mum, and making memories in the process.

So when I got home, round 2 began. ๐Ÿ‘

(Notice I said home? ๐Ÿ˜‰)

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Now it was 3 generations of gals hovering around the kitchen stove. We watched as my mum flipped crepes and then slid them onto our plates to enjoy… we rolled them up after we’d put our filing in, like we always used to do, and baby girl followed suit.

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They were so delicious. They were as good as Iย  remember, and I know I was in my childhood home, but biting into that soft and crisp crepe, brought me all the way back.

And I loved the journey. ๐Ÿกโค๐Ÿฅž

 

 

 

 

 

#1296 A new season of Self-care

Spring is the beginning of many things.

Growth. Renewal. Sunshine. Greenery.

It just so coincides with a decision I made only yesterday, on the first day of it, to do something new.

To look after myself.

I’ve been on a bit of a journey, a spiritual awakening of late. My normal awareness of mind, body and soul has skyrocketed to another level.

In turn, I come to the conclusion that, like my Mum always says “you are your own doctor.”

I am my own doctor.

We know, intuitively, what we need. No one else can really tell us that. Even if we do learn something from an ‘authority,’ really, something inside of us has been trying to tell us that all along… give us worldly signs… throw our body off-kilter so that we take notice…

Even, send us dreams.

There is always something there, something trying to get through.

It’s just whether we are allowing ourselves to listen or not.

I’m not going to do anything crazy. I just have a heightened awareness, and in order to nourish my body, in making mindful food choices and trying to be more active, I will also be doing things for my mind, and my soul.

Yoga.

Meditation.

Music – I find it so therapeutic, and I am actually going to be singing/dancing on my own for at least 5 minutes a day. TRUE STORY.

Laughter – nothing makes me happier than when I find a new comedian via youtube, and I sit there almost crying for about 5 minutes straight.

Nothing crazy. Nothing unattainable.

Most of it, free.ย 

I am going into this realistically. There are days I may not be able to do much on my list. I will forget and let go of those days.

Then there will be days that I smash it out of the park. Those are the days I will use as fuel to push me on and keep me going on my improvement pursuit.

Just tonight I sat down, for like 2 minutes because that is all I had, to do some yoga moves…

Baby girl found me.

And she saw the book I was working from, and wanted to do yoga too.

They actually do yoga in her class. I wish I was in prep again.

So I let her. Old me would have been slightly annoyed to have lost my ‘me time,’ but new SmikG said ‘let go’ and breathed in and out as deeply as I could.

Watching her do the ‘cat-cow’ as we both went on all fours, made me smile.

It threw me off my yoga focus… but I was laughing. Relaxed. Wasn’t that the point?

Yep. It sure is.

#1295 Sunday surprises

It’s a lot nicer when you don’t expect anything, and then the opposite occurs.

Something. We were happily bound to our home for the day, Sunday, the first day of Spring (yippee!) and also, Father’s Day.

Baby girl had happily helped her Dad open up his presents after our late morning breakfast, still on a high from the night before yet feeling the lack of sleep, when I got word, that our quiet day might be different.

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I had seen my Dad at my bro-in-law’s birthday the night before after all… I had seen my whole family.ย 

But then I heard my Mum and Dad were going to my sister’s place for a quick visit, and so then we might as well pop on by…

And what started as a very non-expectant day, had us around a table talking, laughing, and then watching the rain pour down later when the clouds decided to merge overhead.

It didn’t affect the sunset though. Just as I had been longing for Winter to be over, just as quickly it came to an end… and this seems to happen every year. June, July and the start of August feel so long, then mine and baby girl’s birthday passes and it no time – BANG!

Spring. Sunshine. Sunsets like this:

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And so the message really is… don’t expect anything. Things are that much sweeter when you think of not much at all…

#1261 Letting it all out

When was the last time you cried?

Let it ALL out?

I don’t mean a pathetic weeping. I am talking a full-fledged, soul-shaking, whole body performance that tremors with the waves of emotions like sea water crashing across the shore.

It’s obviously best done with someone you trust. Someone you love.

Even better perhaps, when you are on the phone.

You can ugly cry all you want. Screw up your eyes and let your snots hang dangerously low, let the teardrops make splatters on your pants, stain your top.

And although the beginning of such a sob session may start off as solemn, downcast, and awfully depressing… something wonderful does come out of it.

Nothing may have changed. Nothing major anyway. Buy you not only gain a different perspective from hearing someone else repeat your words, but you feel somewhat lighter too.

The load has been dispersed. Instead of one huge boulder on your back, the expression of your deepest sadness may have allowed some of that boulder to chip away, and leave instead, large stones.

And the more that you walk along, and on with life, the more likely it is that some of those large stones may slowly start to roll off…

And so on.

Nothing changes overnight… But it is the knowledge of someone lending an ear, while you also let loose, allowing the internal waterfall to pour out, that actually makes all the difference.