Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-LLAMA!

Somewhere along the way, my daughter started calling me Mama Llama. I don't even remember when that started, but it was years ago. So Sierra became my Llama-Llama, or Llittle Llama. Ever since, I have been fascinated with llamas, even if at first, I constantly confused them with alpacas. Sorry, llamas of the world.

Mama Llama lloves her Llama Llama.

Are you familiar with Anna Dewdney? She published her first Llama Llama book in 2005. I have been drawn to the series ever since I became Mama Llama. 

When I babysit my little neighbor Elise, I love it when
she chooses one of her Llama Llama books to read.

Is it just me, or have you noticed there is no shortage of llama-themed items this year? I have been so tickled to find so much llama stuff when I go shopping, or even look online. I can't afford to buy all of it, so I take pictures, and send them to Sisi. 

For my birthday this year, Sisi found me the most adorable Christmas sweater. I can't bring myself to call it an UGLY Christmas sweater, but it is over-the-top festive, and features an adorable llama in a Santa hat. 

Two little purchases I made were a mug and a Christmas tree decoration. I figure spending $5 on myself isn't a criminal offense, just a little selfish, right before the holidays and all. I was just proud I was able to resist all of the other adorable llama goodies: tea towels, Christmas stockings, stuffed toys, totes, notebooks, and canvas prints. My willpower is pretty incredible when prices loom over $5. 

When my friend Susan and I went to Cosley Zoo this fall for a Coffee and Cameras day, I had fun snapping pictures of the llamas. Making memes of the prettier one has entertained me more than once. 

The prettier one? Yes, there was a less-than-llovely llama that could have used the services of a veterinary orthodontist. Do you think that specialty even exists? 

Unfortunate Llittle Llama

So now you know how my fascination with llamas started. I'm pretty proud to be called Mama Llama. 

Thank you, Llama Llama for giving me my nickname. I llove it, and I llove you. 

Happy Christmas Adam!

Merry Christmas Adam!

Christmas Adam is the day before Christmas Eve. Get it; Adam before Eve? Your family might call it Christmas Eve-Eve, or maybe you just call it December 23rd. When my niece Erika realized we celebrated Christmas Eve the day before the 24th, she suggested we call it Christmas Adam. She is a pretty clever girl.

Over the years, my Christmas celebrations with my children shifted to accommodate time with their dad, so we had our Christmas Eve on the 23rd, and Christmas day on the 24th. Now that I'm married to Chuck, on the years that we spend November instead of December in Utah, we celebrate Thanksmas. Any time spent with the kids feels like a holiday to me. Calendar Schmalendar.

When Bristol walked in this morning, I wrapped my arms around his barrel-like torso, and wished him a Happy Christmas Adam. Then tears started streaming down my face, and into his grey velvet coat. 

The holidays are such a bittersweet time for me. I wouldn't say I've exactly burst into tears, but I have been moved to tears quite a few times this week.  Yesterday was the fourth anniversary of my dad's passing. While I cannot wait to join our extended family to celebrate Christmas here in Illinois, my heart still aches to see my children in Utah. 

One happy mama. Photo credit: Chuck Bennorth

Last Christmas was so extra special. Chuck and I flew to Utah to spend the holidays with my kids. We spent time with my mom and her husband. We even had a white Christmas, and went sledding near the hot springs. We took lots of photos. And for Christmas, we gave each of the kids money toward a flight to Chicago to come see us in January. I have to say that was one of the very best Christmases of my life. 

January 2017. A day in Chicago with the family.

This will be our fifth Christmas without Daddy. There are so many sweet memories of him that flood my mind this time of year.  Our Christmas day phone calls. His gingerbread cookies and German Stöllen. The smell of Old Spice. That hearty laugh. His big bear hugs. His old jokes he never tired of telling time and time again. Watching his favorite Pink Panther clips with him. Oh, I miss him so much.

One thing I know Daddy would tell me is, "Don't be sad, Princess." I just can't help but miss him. Especially this time of year. So the tears fall, but there are smiles, too.  

To honor Dad's memory, I will try to focus on the joys of the season. Time with family. Phone calls and Skype time with my kids. Seeing our Bennorth boys, their wives, and our sweet grandson. Driving to look at the lights. Wrapping gifts. Baking cinnamon rolls and cookies. Sitting in front of the fire. Enjoying holiday meals with friends and family. Playing games at the kitchen table. Taking Chuck's mom to her church's Christmas Eve service. Recalling Christmases past. 

So blessed to have so many wonderful people in our family.

Happy Christmas Adam, friends; wherever you are, whatever you celebrate, I hope you find moments of peace and contentment. There is so much good in this world; we just have to look for it. I know I'm not the only one missing a loved one this year; may we all be blessed with comfort and joy. 

Slaying the Dragon

Slaying the dragon that plagues my corner of the kingdom is an ongoing thread in the tapestry of my life. I often wonder if I will ever reach a point in my journey when I will be able to look back at a particular moment in time, and say, that day is when the dragons lost their power; that is when I finally triumphed. From that day forward, I would no longer see myself as a damsel in distress, but the queen of my kingdom.

Not much of my art survived from college, but this piece is still around. What a coincidence.

My dragon, for those of you who don't know me well, is binge eating whenever I am stressed. According to my fitness app, I'm on day 52 of my healthier eating and exercise plan. They say it only takes 21 days to build a habit. Apparently, for me, it takes longer than 51 days to annihilate a bad one. Sigh.

When I woke up yesterday, I felt sick. My tummy hurt, my head ached, and I felt exhausted. I was feeling a little nervous about that because typically, I respond to tummy upsets with carbs; dry toast, potatoes, rice. I sipped on my soup, hoping the comforting food would make me feel better, and help me head off a carb fest. I still didn't feel that great a couple hours later, so I had a piece of toast. Then another. And that's all it took. I had given my demon an invitation, and a place to stay. 

I will spare you the details, but let's just say I ate too much, and even though most of it was pretty healthy, by the time Chuck asked if he could pick up dinner on the way home, I eagerly, with just a hint of guilt, told him I was would like a Portillo's Chicago-style jumbo hotdog. My eating was totally off anyway; why the heck not? I even entertained the thought of Portillo's chocolate cake, and then realized the cinnamon rolls I was making for Chuck's office party would taste even better, so I set my beady little eyes on that prize, and when they came out of the oven, I ate one. Okay, more than one. When I went to bed, my dragon was well-fed, and nowhere near slain.

Now it's today, and in the aftermath, I don't feel so great about myself. I let myself down. I feel worn out, and the day just started. It is time to pick through the debris of yesterday, and see what I've learned. 

First of all, can we all agree that when we are trying to leave a bad habit behind, we're probably going to have relapses? A relapse isn't pretty, and it isn't welcome, but when it happens, we need to acknowledge that it happened, and move forward from there. 

While emotionally I have regrets about my choices, I have to admit that one day of bingeing does not eliminate all of the physical gains I've made. My clothes still fit today that fit yesterday, and while I knew better than to step on a scale this morning, the only thing that really happened is I set myself back a week or two in accomplishing some of my goals. Old me would have woken up this morning, and started out the day the way I ended last night; eating things I really shouldn't. New me knew it was time to re-evaluate, and take care of myself. 

For me, that meant catching up on lost sleep last night. I listened to a meditation with encouragement for binge eaters as I drifted back to sleep.  I re-started the day with some inspirational reading while I drank a cup of coffee. The music I listened to made me feel better. I processed some of my thoughts through writing. Chuck is my ever-present "listening ear," and I let him know yesterday had not gone well for me, and told him why I thought that was. I made myself a protein shake after I worked out.

Hah! Choosing that workout was a funny moment. I thought it was called "TOTAL BODY CARE," and I thought, perfect, that's just what I want today. Color me surprised when we did tons of ab work because what I had actually signed on for was Total Body CORE. Oh, well, I needed that, too!

This afternoon, I went to the doctor, and asked for help. It was nice to be listened to, and to hear there are other medications I can try that don't have the side effect of insomnia. I left the doctor's office feeling heard, and hopeful.

Friends, maybe your dragon is different than mine. Maybe you've never entertained the thought of polishing off a half gallon of ice cream or a bag of Oreos all by yourself on a particularly rough day. Maybe that's just me. 

Maybe your dragon is anxiety. Or drinking. Or drugs. Or anger. Or any number of things we as humans try to overcome. 

By sharing my own struggle, maybe you will realize you are not alone. Sometimes we need to get help. Sometimes we need to admit we are not equipped to deal with our issues on our own. I'm not saying we need a knight in shining armor to rescue us, but sometimes we may need our family and other villagers to listen to us, and support us. Sometimes we just have to start over, and remember we don't have to give up just because we succumbed in a moment of weakness. For me, caving to the cravings has been an uphill battle for a very long time. I can't expect to slay this dragon in just a few weeks. 

Give us a little more time; those dragons won't live forever. Here's to running to the finish line of this year, and getting ready for a fresh start on the new year. I'm not ready to give up on myself; please don't give up on you. Let's slay those dragons. We damsels have to stick together.

Closing the Gap

Renaissance fashions with tight-fitting bodices and full skirts accentuate curves, and flatter a woman's figure. Well, they can. Another thing I like about my Ren faire clothes is they are adjustable, and I can still squeeze into them when I gain weight; I simply have to loosen my laces. It hadn't occurred to me that perhaps I needed to move up a size. 

"Next summer, I'm going to make garb for you that fits," my friend and Renaissance fashion consultant Susan said, as she tugged on the front of my gapping ghawazee. I'm sure the look on my face said it all; her words had stung. Then I brightened up.

Next summer, I'm hoping my ghawazee
will meet in the middle all the way down the front.

"Well, if I have my way, that won't be necessary. I'm going to lose weight, and then my tunic will fit; just you wait and see."

"Denise," she began, staring into my eyes, "Don't. You are in a happy place in your life. Don't do that to yourself. I'll just tailor your clothes so they fit you next year." 

At first, I was a little hurt. Yes, my Renaissance Faire clothing was a little snug; I could admit that. And then I thought, I am so glad I have a friend like Susan who tells me like it is, and loves me while she does it. Everyone should be lucky enough to have a friend so caring and wise.

Susan is one of those rare people who makes friends for life in a moment. She glows with her positivity and love. Anyone who meets her feels more confident and beautiful. When women walk out of her shop Alter Egos Bazaar, they hold their heads a little higher, and their eyes shine a little more. The time they spend with Susan lifts their spirits, and they can't help but be touched by her spirit. 

Photo credit: Chuck Bennorth

Looking down at my beautifully sewn costume, I noticed the gap between the two edges of fabric that were tied together with a black lace. Did I want my sweet friend to have to labor over new clothes for me because I couldn't walk away from cookies and ice cream? No. Did I want to prove to her that I could lose the weight, and wear my Renaissance garb with pride? Yes, I really did. Determination set in; I was going to make sure that I could wear my ghawazee and my bodice with confidence next faire season. 

I might need to find a new favorite food vendor at the faire.

After an ill-advised, FUTILE ATTEMPT at losing weight last summer, I have finally settled in on a healthy lifestyle that is working for me. There is no magic pill. There is no easy way to get back on the track to good health. "Eat less and exercise more" is the only thing that has ever worked for me. 

With the Beach Body on Demand workouts and the 21 Day Fix portion control system, I'm actually eating MORE of certain foods, and less of others. More veggies, more fruits, and less processed, and less junk. There has not been a night I've gone to bed hungry these last seven weeks. The workouts have challenged me, but I knew it was going to take more than a few saunters around the neighborhood to get this body back in shape.

Was I just asking for trouble by signing up for this Headstart on the Holidays in November, right before all of our celebrations began? As it turns out, I haven't missed any celebrations; I've just been more selective in my food choices, making sure I fill up on my healthy stuff first, and then having some of my favorite foods. Sure, I've had a couple of days off from the plan, but I just get back in the saddle the next morning. 

For me, I have to exert myself, which means lifting weights, getting my heart rate up, and yes, SWEATING, which I hate, if I'm going to get in better shape. I worried that I wouldn't stick with this, but today I am on day 50, and I am feeling better about my ability to do just that. 

Top: Ghawazee from Alter Egos Bazaar. Bottom: Bodice and peasant dress.
On the left, August 2017. On the right, December 2017.

What do I have to show for my efforts? Well, let me tell you. The scales don't tell the whole story. I actually weigh three pounds more than I did at this time last year. And I weigh just about the same as when Susan was tugging on my too-tight top. Even though the numbers on the scale may not seem impressive, even though I have lost more than 12 pounds in seven weeks, my non-scale victories are worth celebrating. 

Knowing the scale can never tell the whole story, I have been on the lookout for non-scale victories. The health benefits are pretty good by themselves. For Christmas, I have asked for heavier weights because I have outgrown the five pound dumbbells I first used. My muscles are stronger, and my lungs don't get winded walking up a flight of stairs.  During my workouts, I am able to do some of the regular workout moves now. When I first started, I had to follow the modified exercise routine the whole session. Slowly, I am reclaiming clothes I haven't worn in quite some time. 

By working out, and watching what I eat, I am slowly "closing the gap" on my Renaissance clothing, too, which makes me very, very happy.

Thank you, Susan. I know you were willing to make me a new outfit, but I'm hoping if you ever have to do that, it's because my beautiful clothing from your shop has gotten too big!

Unflattering Will Get You Nowhere

Being married to a photographer, I am Chuck's unsuspecting subject many more times than I know. Thankfully, he tries very hard to show my best side, in the best light. There are moments, though, no matter how hard Chuck tries, I just don't give him much to work with. To his credit, there are many shots of me that have stayed on his computer, never having seen the light of day. 

I debated about giving photographers credit for the photos here, but the pics are what they are; evidence of me in all my glory, or the lack thereof. All blame for my derp-y expressions lies with me, not the person behind the camera.

I found this gem buried in Chuck's archives. To his credit, he would never share this photo.
Apparently, I have no shame.

It has become painfully apparent that I am a challenge to many photographers, especially at the Bristol Renaissance Faire. We have become friends with so many of the camera-toting cadre, and every once in awhile, their pictures of me pop up on Facebook. 

Sometimes they capture my (a-hem) resting [something-or-other] face, and I think, "Wow, I need to work on that." I am learning not to take myself so seriously, and I have to say, my guard is quickly dropping in the vanity department. When I'm at the faire, I am about as happy as I can be, but sometimes that heat and humidity takes its toll on me, and it shows in my expression. Yeah, that's it. Let's blame my less-than-flattering facial expressions on the weather, shall we?

Photo credit: Frank Falesch

What else can I do, but laugh about it? 

My oldest said this is the perfect face for when meeting a real-life giant.
Photo credit: John Karpinsky

The last three summers at the faire have shown me that some people have a knack for always being "on," and there is rarely an unflattering picture of them. Those cast members are consummate actors, though; I am just a photographer, and I am not blessed with their abilities.

Enlarged for your viewing pleasure.

Chuck is learning if he wants to capture a pleasant image of me, he has to get my attention first, then I can flash him my mega-watt smile. I can smile, and thanks to a couple embarrassing years of wearing braces, I have a pretty nice one. I just don't think about smiling when I'm lost in thought, or unaware of cameras. 

Why can't I put a little more effort in my facial expressions when I am lost in thought, like I do when I'm hamming it up?

While I may not always smile when I'm in front of a camera, do you know when I smile the most? When I'm behind the camera. 

That dimple is evidence of my smile behind the camera. Thanks for this shot, John Karpinsky!

It's so weird, but when I'm waiting to capture the perfect candid moment, my face breaks into a huge smile while my finger is poised over the trigger. It's like I'm trying to use ESP to get my subject to smile for me. At the end of an eight hour day at the ren faire, my cheeks seriously hurt. 

There's that tell-tale dimple again.
Photo credit: Brian Schultz

The jury is still out, but I don't think we can blame our photographer friends for my deadpan, unflattering look. Having a pleasant expression on my face is one thing I'm going to work on, but as you can see, I've got my work cut out for me.

Photo credit: Trisha Wagner. Commentary by me.

Unflattering is getting me nowhere. 

Photo credit: Stephen Lundeen

Stop and Smell the Poinsettias

Okay, I admit it; I don't think poinsettias have much of a fragrance, but 'tis the season, and I thought "Stop and smell the poinsettias" was apropros this month. And if we can't smell them, the least we can do is appreciate their beauty.

Do you ever get pulled into a chaotic week where you are checking things off your list right and left, but you feel drained, even though you are being productive? The holidays seem to pull is in so many directions; the parties, the community events, the family gatherings. I have been powering through each day, doing the things asked of me, and doing the things I think I need to do, but my heart has felt out of touch with my head. It's almost like having an out-of-body experience at times. 

Ever since my father-in-law passed away last week, I have been caught up in a whirlwind of things that need to be done. Our day-to-day life keeps us hopping anyway, and Chuck's mom needs love and encouragement more than ever right now. There are papers to gather, documents to sign, an apartment to be emptied, and many, many explanations to repeat to a broken-hearted wife who is confused by all of the changes in her life. My own heart hurts for hers. 

We're in between holidays, and I am very aware that keeping up with the housework is going to make things much easier on me when we entertain friends and family these next few weeks. There are appointments at the dentist, at the vet, at Toyota, and at the bank. Headlights and brake lights had to be replaced, and the car needed to be serviced. 

We have weekends that seem to be packed with photo shoots. We head out to the children's theater a couple nights a week, and we also shot pictures for another non-profit last Friday and Saturday. There have been so many pictures to edit that photography feels more like a job than a hobby lately. The equilibrium of the house is beginning to spin out of control again, and I am barely staying on top of the muddy paw prints with the rain and light snowfalls we've had.

Waaa-waaa-waaa. I know; my life is not so bad. Every once in awhile, things just seem off balance. I'm so afraid I'm going to forget something important that needs to be done because I am not thinking clearly. 

Last night I told Chuck, "Tomorrow is wide open. I have nothing to do; nowhere to go. I am so relieved."

Then, in the middle of the night, I remembered that it was THURSDAY. Thursdays are Cameras and Coffee days with Susan. As much as I love not having plans occasionally, I was just as happy to realize I'd have time with Susan in the morning. 

Sometimes when you feel a little nuts, when it feels like your life is not even your own, it's important to carve out some time to extricate yourself from the crazy. When I look back at my week, I realize one reason I have any sanity left at all is because I've managed to take advantage of little moments when I could. 

Insomnia has some perks. I definitely get some "me time" in those early morning hours. I've managed to read the Bible and do some recreational reading, too. I usually have my workout done before Chuck comes down for breakfast. 

Throughout the day, in between errands and running to the next town over to spend time with my mother-in-law, I've stolen quiet moments to read my book, savor a cup of gingerbread spice tea, watch a favorite Christmas video, or even try to squeeze in 40 winks. Those are my "stop to smell the poinsettias" times.

With my open day today, I practically wallowed in our Coffee and Cameras time. We sat at the Luau Coffee shop for over an hour, and then while we were shooting poinsettias at Shady Hill Gardens, we lost all track of time, and stayed longer than either of us had planned. 

It felt good to spend time with a friend. Chatting over coffee was a welcome break. Being outside in the cold air, and then watching the sunlight filter into the greenhouse over a sea of poinsettias was just what the doctor ordered. I feel like my energy levels have been reset. Whatever comes my way will seem more manageable.

We might not be able to control all of the variables in our lives, but when we can take a little time for ourselves, it feels like such a gift. Dwelling completely in that moment allows us to recharge our batteries, and to not give in to the overwhelming feeling that life is out of control. 

As some of us are in the thick of Hanukkah and others of us have Christmas swiftly approaching, we need to remember to slow down every once in awhile. Rarely is anything we think we just HAVE to do so critical that we can't take a moment to breathe, to relax, and to think. I recommend stepping out of the fray every once in awhile; your peace of mind will thank you. 

Happy Holidays, friends. I hope you get a chance to stop and smell the poinsettias; you'll be glad you did.

Joie de Hygge

Bristol is sleeping at my feet at the end of the couch. Between the Christmas tree lights, candles, and the Himalayan salt rock lamps, the room is filled with a warm glow. There is a steaming cup of creamy coffee beside the Susan Branch book I am currently reading. I'm wearing my coziest, fleece-y leggings and the thickest, softest socks I own, with a an over-sized, long-sleeved t-shirt. 

Dulce de Leche coffee and Susan Branch's Martha's Vineyard: Isle of Dreams.

A steaming cup of coffee, a good book, and a big, snoring dog; what more could I want this morning? Besides a little more sleep, pretty much nothing. Once again, insomnia and I are stretched out on the couch, enjoying this early morning hour.

The French have their joie de vivre; the Danes have their hygge, pronounced HUE-gah. I think I have my own little joie de hygge going on here.

Last year, I first became aware of the Danish word, which is a concept that embraces coziness, comfort, and intimacy. All of my life I have been drawn to that concept; I just never had a word for it. To me I am living the good life when I am surrounded by things that smell good, taste good, and feel good. A sweet soundtrack in the background makes the hygge complete.

To each of us, there may be slight differences in what hygge feels like, but I know that for me it is less about looking good, and more about feeling good. We can probably all agree that we like the things that bring us comfort; clothes that don't constrict, warm blankets that are super soft, our favorite foods, and the scents that make our house a home. 

According to Anna Altman, there is even a word for my favorite hygge leggings: "hyggebukser,
otherwise known as that shlubby pair of pants you would never wear in public but secretly treasure."

While I would not want my picture taken this morning, I can tell you I could not be more comfortable. Nothing coordinates with anything else, but every fabric that is touching my skin is as soft as it can be. 

What brings you comfort? What elements of hygge do you already embrace? Maybe it's hot cocoa and marshmallows in front of a crackling fire. You might prefer some hot tea, a good book, and a pile of blankets. Or maybe you would enjoy bundling up for a walk in the falling snow. I'm hoping we get to do just that this morning after the sun comes up; we're being blessed by a light snowfall, even as I write. 

Whatever it is that brings you comfort and joy as winter settles in for the season, I hope you make time to enjoy your own version of hygge.