Jennifer Lambert

A Sacred Balance

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ECOlunchboxes Review

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

April 17, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert Leave a Comment

We love trying new products that help our family in our journey to be more sustainable.

ECOlunchboxes are great traveling companions when we go hiking and exploring outdoors.

Plastic-free, stainless steel lunch boxes and cotton bags.

I can fill these bowls with fun colorful healthy goodies and we can share a salad and dip on a picnic wherever we go.

We have an extensive wood and creek in our backyard and often go to look at wildflowers and hunt mushrooms and herbs.

The kids love to play in the creek and look at crawdads.

It’s such a blessing to know that while we enjoy nature, we can care for our Earth with reusable products instead of landfilling disposable products. It takes a little more thought to grab cloth napkins and real utensils with containers that have to be washed instead of items that are just thrown away.

I love that my kids are excited to help us do these things to protect our environment.

I love the versatility of these reusable bento bowls. We can use these bowls for snacks, salads, or anything and they’re leak-proof!

The stainless bowls and silicone lids are dishwasher and oven safe! Not for use in the microwave!

Plastic-free and leak-proof, the Salad Kit is a three-piece container set ideal for packing a variety of foods and keeping them separate.

  • Seal Cup Jumbo, measuring 7 inches diameter by 3 inches tall. Capacity is 48 oz (6 cups). Great for the salad!
  • Seal Cup Mini, measuring 2 5/8 inches round by 1 1/2 inches tall. Capacity is 3 oz (1/3 cup). Ideal for dressings.
  • Seal Cup Solo, measuring 3 1/2 inches round by 1 3/4 inches tall. Capacity 7 oz (7/8 cup). Ideal for croutons, nuts and other toppings best kept separate prior to tossing your salad.

All Blue Water Bento collection lunch containers are designed FOR the ocean and  BY the ocean. It’s the beauty of our oceans that has inspired all our lunchbox designs. Sneak a peek at the behind-the-scenes design process.

Green Gifts from ECOlunchbox

My kids are very concerned about making better choices for our leftover storage and picnic supplies. We are trying to limit or even eliminate our waste and do better not using single use plastics.

We have a whole wish list for ECOlunchboxes now, so everyone can have their own containers for lunches and snacks.

Go Green Gifts for Mother's Day

Please join the ECOlunchbox eco-friendly communities on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter.

What changes can we make to limit waste?

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Filed Under: Reviews Tagged With: review

Tired

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

March 29, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert 6 Comments

My daughters were 7, 2, and newborn.

We had just completed a transcontinental move from Texas to Hawaii.

I was recovering from a Caesarean section.

We had one car.

We moved into our house on base to find out lots of broken and stolen items from the Texas packers.

My husband began his new job.

I was homeschooling my eldest child.

I couldn’t find any friends with whom I felt actually comfortable.

I was so tired ALL.THE.TIME.

Then the pastor’s wife at our new church came to visit me at our home.

I was grateful that it was naptime for my younger girls and I had my eldest read and play quietly in her room.

I had set out fresh baked sugar cookies and lemonade. Because I was raised always to serve food to guests.

After the pastor’s wife shoved our friendly cat off the sofa, shamed me for my daughter not having made the cookies from scratch, she proceeded to tell me that I was doing everything in my life wrong, wrong, wrong.

I’m not sure what I expected her to do or say, but that wasn’t it.

I was so stressed. I was anxious. I was depressed. I was cooped up in a house with three young children all day every day, homeschooling, nursing, making food, doing laundry, cleaning, barely surviving. Still in recovery from major surgery of a C-section, never resting.

Why couldn’t I lost weight and look like I did before the pregnancies?

My house was spotless. Meals were on time. Chores were completed every day. Homeschool checklists were checked.

I ran a tight ship. I was very efficient.

The visit from the pastor’s wife was the equivalent of telling me just to “calm down and smile more.”

The pastor’s wife didn’t even quote any Bible verses at me.

Surely, I was the epitome of the Proverbs 31 woman?

The pastor’s wife’s visit only made me feel worse.

I felt like I was drowning.

I went to a medical doctor for a physical later that month.

He prescribed lots of mineral supplements, light exercise, and a Paleo diet – before that was even a thing.

Within a few weeks, I felt loads better physically.

But I was still exhausted mentally.

The mental load of a mother is tremendous.

Why is it so hard to make sure everyone in a family of six has good shoes that fit? Why must I remind everyone every day to brush their teeth? Why must I keep track of the family calendar? Why must I purchase all the presents for every single holiday? Why must I do all the research for every little thing?

Life was just hard with young children. I felt isolated with so many neighbors putting their kids in school so they could socialize with each other during the days. They made me feel outcast since I was homeschooling and keeping my kids close at home, with me. These moms made me question my values.

I reevaluated what I needed to do and wanted to do.

I had to focus and let some things slide.

Medication for anxiety and depression actually made me feel worse. I don’t allow myself to be a guinea pig and try lots of new meds or dosages. I just stopped the rx meds and managed my lifestyle and made lots of changes.

But even doing all the “right” things – exercise, getting fresh air and sunshine, eating well, meditating, reducing stress…the depression is still there. But if I don’t do those “right” things? The depression rears up like the monster it is.

Parenting with depression is really hard. There are some really bleak days.

But there are lovely days too.

We’ve moved so many times, starting over in new places, all hopeful – to have those hopes dashed for various reasons.

As my four kids are growing up and becoming more independent, many things become easier and other things become more difficult.

We’re now busy with sports and extracurriculars. I’m sad that most of these classes and practices are right in the middle of dinnertime.

I’m disappointed by so many people just assuming we are like average, mainstream white Americans.

We homeschool, but not like that. We don’t go to church, but we are spiritual. We don’t like guns. We are trying to be not consumerist. We are actively anti-racist. We seldom eat fast food – or out at all. I don’t work outside our home.

It’s really hard to fit in with families who all have known each other for generations.

I don’t have any family. And I’ve never had any friends.

While I happen to be alone, I constantly try to teach my kids how to have healthy relationships. I don’t want them to be friendless or awkward or anxious. I want them to recognize dysfunction and abuse. I want them to be open and friendly. I’m learning along with my kids how to have healthy emotions.

I feel dismissed when I meet new people. I say and do all the right things and I am begging to be liked but tryin not to fawn. I see in their eyes that I don’t have anything to offer them and they smile with only their lips and say, “Nice to meet you.” but turn away to talk to their friends.

It’s like high school all over again. They have no need to make room for me. They don’t make room for me.

I am more than a stereotype. And I’m sure many of these parents I see are too…but how would I know?

I’m still tired.

I’m still isolated.

I’m not unhealthy tired, physically.

My heart and soul are tired.

You might also like:

  • Living with Depression
  • Books about Depression
  • Mental Illness Portrayed in Film
  • What Depression Feels Like
  • Memes as Therapy
  • Emotional Health

Linking up: Random Musings, Anita Ojeda, Marilyn’s Treats, April Harris, Little Cottage, Create with Joy, InstaEncouragements, LouLou Girls, Fluster Buster, Gingersnap, Girlish Whims, My Life Abundant, Ridge Haven, Soaring with Him, Suburbia, Anchored Abode, Slices of Life, Imparting Grace, Debbie Kitterman, Crystal Storms, Grammy’s Grid, Katherine’s Corner, Penny’s Passion, Lauren Sparks, OMHG, Grandma’s Ideas, Our Three Peas, Try it Like it, Simply Sweet Home, CWJ, Lyli Dunbar, Answer is Choco, Momfessionals, Being a Wordsmith, Mostly Blogging

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Filed Under: Health Tagged With: growth, mental health

Parenting with Depression

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

March 22, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert 12 Comments

I’m really tired of all the blogs and articles telling mothers to just get help.

I think some people assume it’s easy to get help.

There are so many obstacles to getting help.

Sometimes, the help isn’t helpful.

Sometimes, therapy makes things worse.

I’m sorry that I do need more than Jesus. Many require therapy, meds, and many things more than Jesus. When Christians admonish those with mental illness or recovery from abuse or living with addiction that all we need is Jesus, it diminishes us still further, stigmatizes, silences. Why do we need more? Are we not good enough? Are we not Christian enough? Maybe these “Christians” aren’t really showing us Jesus. It’s just empty words like so much emptiness in my heart, mind, soul.

Depression isn’t always obvious.

I hide my inner self because no one really wants the running commentary about everything that is out of sync with our natures with this dying society.

I could fit in if I wanted to, if I tried harder. I could paste on a smile and giggle and be fake and nod along with other parents telling horrendous stories shaming their kids and making fun of their spouses.

My values aren’t their values. No one shares my values.

The trite checklists on how to help moms, depressed or not, is really out of touch with reality.

As a military wife and homeschool mom, I don’t have any help or family or friends or staff or child care. I don’t even have an emergency contact on forms!

Finding a therapist or psychologist is virtually impossible. I don’t have the luxury of shopping around and moving every few years makes for no continuity. Why should I even start to trust someone and open up to them if I have to move?

There is no extra money for hiring out home cleaning or yard maintenance.

Self care is way more than bubble baths. No one actually cares. And I struggle to care for myself.

I learned early in life not to have needs.

It was a cycle: Felt need, shame for need, inability to meet my own need, increased shame for need, paralyzing effects of shame blocking self care, increased need, more shame—on and on until I felt into my darkest, most fearful mental anguish.

Janyne A. McConnaughey, Ph.D.

Those depression and suicide risk assessments at the doctor’s office are bullshit. “Don’t hesitate to reach out.” Reach out to whom, exactly? Reach out for what? If I were honest with health care professionals or acquaintances or family members about my inner thoughts and feelings, I would be locked away against my will and my children might be removed from our home.

Every single appointment, the doctor offers me drugs for anxiety and depression. It’s so easy. I could just medicate myself into annihilation.

So I suffer in silence.

Our culture tends to think of depression in the person who finds work too stressful as a sign of weakness. Self-help articles imply that they just need more mental toughness and they could lean in and solve it. Even some therapists tell them that their depression is a distorted perception of circumstances that aren’t so bad.

Alison Escalante, M.D.

I had panic attacks the first couple years of marriage. We moved across the country, had two babies, and I quit teaching to begin homeschooling my eldest daughter. I just couldn’t cope with all the quick changes.

I struggled for years to do everything I thought I was supposed to do. I was constantly irritable. I just lived angry. I couldn’t delight in my kids and the cute things they said or did. Everything was a dreaded chore. I resented everyone.

I accomplish my duties every day.

Some days, it’s just “good enough.”

I never want to get out of bed. Usually my bladder says otherwise. I drag myself away from the oblivion of sleep to face the day.

I try to fill the kettle with water the night before so I just click the switch to boil the water for tea.

I give myself a pat on the back every day that I unload and load the dishwasher, wash, dry, and put away the laundry, prepare and clean up three meals for the kids. I read aloud for about an hour every morning.

It frustrates me all the mothers who are proud of their neurodivergence. I am not proud. I wish I were oblivious to all the horrors of this world. I wish I were a slaphappy InstaPinterest Stepford wife who doesn’t have a care in the world. I wish I could medicate it all away.

Ignorance really is bliss.

Sometimes the sheer weight of the world knocks me sideways and I inwardly rock with the collective pain. I’m dizzy with fear. I smile it away and pretend I’m fine.

I’m fine.

It’s like I have a constant dull headache.

I don’t want to frighten my family with my inner thoughts. I pretend they’re not there, the intrusive thoughts.

Every single day, multiple times a day, I tell my suicidal thoughts to shut the fuck up.

I am not dying today. I have things to do. Even though my life seems tedious and expendable, I am needed. Maybe I am not so easily replaceable.

I will not traumatize my kids with a dead mother. I will live to see them grow up.

I know all the “right” things to do and I try to do them, especially when I don’t feel like it.

I make my bed every morning – so I won’t climb back in it. I try to eat well. I limit myself to two cups of tea or coffee. I try to remember to brush my teeth. I limit visible clutter to help my inner anxiety. I exercise almost every day. I go for walks outdoors with my kids almost every afternoon. I get off social media when it seems too much. I surround myself with blues and greens. I take an Epsom salts bath every evening. I listen to music and read a lot.

I need to model good practices.

It’s devastating to me that my kids remind me to brush my teeth and take my vitamins. I know they’re just modeling back to me what I have taught them and they’re genuinely concerned, but I’m the mom, the adult, and the kids shouldn’t have to worry about me.

I don’t want to be a burden on my family. I’m sure parents with diabetes or some other physical medical diagnosis or chronic illness don’t feel the shame and guilt that parents with mental illness feel. We suffer in silence and put on a brave face in spite of everything.

I say “I’m sorry” all the time. I feel so ashamed when and if I forget something or get caught being careless.

I’m sorry the store was out of the good sausage and I had to buy this lesser one. I’m sorry I forgot the ice cream again. I’m sorry I am overwhelmed and have to interrupt your game to ask for your help. I’m sorry I got frustrated by the shoes left in my way. I’m sorry that I need your laundry basket back to fill it up with your clean laundry.

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m sorry

Imsorry

Lately, I’ve been so clumsy and disoriented that I’ve knocked glasses off the kitchen counter and slipped getting into the bathtub. The doctor said it’s probably anxiety since my physical health is fine. He offered me meds again. He offered me an appointment with the behavioral health specialist. The last time – four years ago – full of hope and younger then, I went to BHOP, she offered me a breathing app for a smartphone sponsored by the U.S. Air Force. She told me to fill out a graphic organizer detailing my support system. I don’t have a support system. She is no help. She doesn’t really care. I am just a number, a box to check. She even called the house to ask if I’m ok and I let the answering machine pick up multiple times before I picked up to say, that yes, I’m fine. I’m fine.

For the life of me, I can’t remember or find where I got this list, but I think it’s important to post it here as some common reasons for depression in moms.

  1. Standards of Perfection – Holding ourselves to impossible standards
  2. Lack of Adequate Coping Skills or Self Care – Setting boundaries, saying no to more, being confident with your choices – all self-care
  3. Unresolved Pain – Failure to address suffering of past trauma or abuse
  4. Attempting To Control The Future – An unhealthy concern of how today’s actions could result in a future negative outcome: ANXIETY
  5. Lack of Support – Knowing where to turn for help without feeling guilt 

wow, I have all of those!

Wine mom culture isn’t gonna fix it.

I think there are many causes of depression. Of course it’s a mix of environmental causes and brain chemistry.

I’ve had functional depression since about the age of twelve. I think growing into abstract thinking and the hormone surge of adolescence triggers a lot of mental illness. I struggled with cognitive dissonance with my parents’ abuse and societal issues with my introversion and high sensitive emotions. So, it’s a lovely melting pot of negativity and lack of connection and having no one to help me.

It’s been difficult to come to terms with who I really am – as an adult, a wife and mother. I spent my whole life stifling it and hiding as never enough.

By Laura Grace Weldon:

You might also like:

  • Living with Depression
  • Books about Depression
  • Mental Illness Portrayed in Film
  • What Depression Feels Like
  • Memes as Therapy
  • Emotional Health

Linking up: Random Musings, Anita Ojeda, April Harris, Marilyn’s Treats, Mostly Blogging, LouLou Girls, Suburbia, Grammy’s Grid, Our Three Peas, Fluster Buster, Girlish Whims, Ginger Snap Crafts, Soaring with Him, Anchored Abode, Grandma’s Ideas, Slices of Life, Crystal Storms, Debbie Kitterman, Lyli Dunbar, Imparting Grace, CWJ, OMHG, Embracing Unexpected, Katherine’s Corner, Try it Like it, Little Bit, Simply Sweet Home, Being a Wordsmith, Answer is Choco, Create with Joy,

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Filed Under: Family Tagged With: depression, mental health, parenting

Celebrating Spring

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

March 20, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert Leave a Comment

Spring is a time of renewal.

The breezes and rain wash away the old and bring in something bright and new.

The kids and I love to explore our yard and the woods behind our house, seeking out new shoots of green, awakening insects, migrating birds.

We’re surprised every year by the bulbs re-emerging, like we’ve forgotten or are worried they might not appear for some reason this year.

I’ve always felt like a spring baby, even though I’m born on only the 18th. My aunt was born on the 20th and I always thought she was so special.

I remember all the springtimes at every house we’ve lived – the flowers that grew there and I sometimes miss in a different climate. I long for the blooming azaleas of my Southern home.

After the vernal equinox, the days become longer and the nights become shorter. Daylight Saving Time also helps us to enjoy the warmer sunnier weather.

We naturally long to be outside more as the weather warms, after being perhaps more cooped up inside during the colder months, when the sun set at or even before dinnertime.

We enjoy our after-dinner walks again. It helps digestion and sleep and I just generally feel better.

We visit our resident Great Horned Owls by our neighborhood pond and woods. We will soon welcome the Little Brown Bats from their winter slumber to eat up the mosquitoes. Birds, raccoons, squirrels, and opossums will soon have babies foraging at our feeders and in our yard.

It’s baseball season and we’re running around to practices and games, dodging the rain with prayers, blankets, and umbrellas.

We’re planning our backyard vegetable garden. We notice the herbs returning after their winter dormancy. We’ve pruned the roses and fertilized the lawn and shrubs.

The world is awakening in wonder.

Celebrating the Spring Equinox

  • Spring Books
  • Eggs – decorating or eating
  • Flowers!
  • Backyard birds
  • Easter is soon!
  • Passover is soon!
  • Spring cleaning our hearts and homes
  • Seeds
  • Gardening
  • Rain painting
  • Baby animals
  • Backwoods Mama
  • The Seasonal Soul
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Filed Under: Family Tagged With: equinox, spring

Raised Better

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

March 15, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert 7 Comments

I remember being spanked, backhanded, pushed, yelled at, belittled, called “stupid” and “worthless.” I was told to stop crying or I would be given something to cry about. Nothing I ever did was good enough.

I was not a bad kid. I got good grades. I seldom got in trouble at school. I did home chores, anything I was asked to do. I helped with cleaning and cooking and yard work.

All grown-ups were once children…but only few of them remember it.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

My parents stole so many wonderful memories from me that I longed to happily share with them – moving out in a healthy way, graduating college and grad school, having my first baby.

I did my best to drag myself out of the pit I made. I struggled. I learned. I grew.

What if I had been raised better?

What if I had been protected, loved, cherished, validated?

I can reparent myself as I learn how to gently parent my four children. I can repair and heal myself as I learn better ways.

I’ve spent over twenty years stressed and anxious about my four kids.

I have running commentary inside my head all the time:

Am I doing this right? Am I doing enough? Should I back off? Should I do this? Should we stop that? What can I do differently? What is working or not?

And I have so many regrets about doing the wrong things when I was a younger and more inexperienced parent.

What are my expectations and are they about my ego or what’s best for my child?

We sometimes struggled to give our kids the life we didn’t have. We have no guidance or role models.

When children are little, parents do have to make (sometimes hard) decisions for the child. I try to include my kids and respect them, but sometimes I have to override their wishes to make the best choice for their well-being.

Children naturally trust parents and are attached to them as caregivers. They have little choice, so it’s very important that I do the best I can and treat them well and respectfully. I want my children to grow up healthy in mind, body, and spirit. Better than I was.

I made sure we enrolled the kids in recreational sports, dance, gymnastics, music, art – whatever was available and they expressed interest in. The kids often shared my enthusiasm and we were careful not to pressure them. If they expressed they wanted to move on or update their interests, we welcomed their input and made necessary changes.

As my kids grow into teens and young adults, they sometimes express themselves to me and their dad in ways that hurt. I try really hard not to be triggered or take it personally. I try to listen and understand. I cry alone, in secret. I don’t want my kids to feel guilty or wrong for telling me their thoughts, wishes, dreams, feelings. I want them to feel safe to tell me anything. I don’t want to put pressure on my children to rescue me.

I worry constantly if I’m saying or doing something like my parents did to me.

I have to update my expectations often as I continually remind myself and realize that my children are individuals with their own lives to lead. Parents surely have dreams for their children, but we can’t and shouldn’t impose that or try to live vicariously through our kids.

I have spent over twenty years meeting physical needs and trying my best to guide my children into being healthy adults – mentally, emotionally, psychologically.

If the consequences of my child’s action or inaction does not affect me, then I must force myself to back off.

My kids this spring are 11, 14, 15, and my eldest will be 21 this fall.

I have imparted my values to them. I guide them and answer questions. I try to be proactive. I tell them what my experiences were in similar situations.

I can only be as concerned as my child.

My child’s grades do not affect me.

My child’s hair, skin, makeup, clothing is their personal choice.

My child’s possessions are their responsibility and I cannot dictate how they treat their possessions.

It is not up to me how my child spends her money (whether money is earned or a gift).

My child’s choice to quit or postpone college is not about me.

My child’s car (after age 18) is her responsibility for maintenance, insurance, gas, repairs.

My child’s choice to move into an apartment is not my fault nor can I control anything about it.

My adult child’s food choices are not my concern unless they become disordered or extreme.

My child’s tax return is her responsibility to gather paperwork and to file.

It is not my job to say “should.”

It is not my job to offer unsolicited advice.

It is my concern to help my child manage her personal hygiene and keep her room relatively clean and neat for physical and mental health and to learn executive function.

My child’s health is my concern. No matter her age. I worry about physical, mental, and dental health. I worry that my adult child has to buy her own health insurance this fall. I worry about some of her personal choices that could pose problems later. I worry that I will want or have to rescue her from herself.

While I will, of course, rescue my child in an emergency (in most cases), it is not my duty to be anxious that she makes different choices than I did or would in her circumstances.

I do intervene when a child’s mistake, words, physical abuse, action, or inaction affects her siblings or others. It is often difficult to parent a child who doesn’t react to natural consequences or is constantly flippant, expecting the problems to just go away on their own. Lack of empathy and refusal to make amends is not ok.

It’s been hard having a child who laughs at consequences and no punishment matters.

Parents are still constantly learning.

I am so glad I am out of the baby, toddler, and young child stages. I love having older kids and teens. Conversations are lively and exciting. I love seeing my kids still act like kids and wanting to be together and show affection to each other.

Look at how much love and joy comes from just letting people be who they are.

Dan Levy

Linking up: Pam’s Party, Random Musings, Mostly Blogging, Anita Ojeda, April Harris, Marilyn’s Treats, Uncommon Suburbia, InstaEncouragements, LouLou Girls, Jeanne Takenaka, Grammy’s Grid, Our Three Peas, Grandma’s Ideas, Soaring with Him, Anchored Abode, Ridge Haven, Ginger Snap, Fluster Buster, Girlish Whims, Ducks in a Row, Katherine’s Corner, Penny’s Passion, Crystal Storms, Debbie Kitterman, Slices of Life, Answer is Choco, Momfessionals, Simply Sweet Home, Embracing Unexpected, OMHG, CWJ, Create with Joy,

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Filed Under: Family Tagged With: abuse, growth, mental health, parenting

Garlic Knots

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

March 8, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert 8 Comments

We have pizza night every week, usually on Fridays.

We make our own pizza dough.

We often make our own marinara sauce.

We each have our favorite toppings.

Lately, we’ve been making these amazing garlic knots.

We keep one of our pizza doughs separate and cut it into slices.

One of my kids rolls each slice into a string and braids it into these gorgeous knots!

They’re like little baskets of delicious.

A brush of egg white makes them crispy and shiny.

They puff up just right and are chewy inside while crispy outside.

I think we might put some cheese inside to see how that turns out.

A brush of garlic butter after they bake makes the whole kitchen smell amazing.

These garlic knots are great with a sprinkle of herbs and Parmesan and served with warm marinara sauce.

This is our favorite pizza dough recipe for these garlic knots.

Print

Garlic Knots

Ingredients

  • 1 pizza dough https://www.jenniferalambert.com/homemade-pizza/

Instructions

  1. Cut pizza dough into 16-18 slices and roll into long strings

  2. braid, twist, or spiral into roll shapes and place on baking sheet

  3. brush with egg white

  4. 10 minutes in 500* degree oven

  5. Brush with garlic butter after baking and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese

  6. Serve hot with marinara sauce

Linking up: Random Musings, Mostly Blogging, Anita Ojeda, April Harris, Marilyn’s Treats, Little Cottage, Suburbia, LouLou Girls, Our Three Peas, Grandma’s Ideas, OMHG, Anchored Abode, Soaring with Him, Ridge Haven, Girlish Whims, Fluster Buster, Ginger Snap, Ducks in a Row, Try it Like it, Katherine’s Corner, Penny’s Passion, Crystal Storms, Debbie Kitterman, CKK, Imparting Grace, Slices of Life, Chic on a Shoestring, Momfessionals, Answer is Choco, Simply Sweet Home, Grammy’s Grid, My Bijou Life, CWJ, Create with Joy,

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Filed Under: Recipes Tagged With: bread, pizza, recipe

A Year Later

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

March 1, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert 11 Comments

It’s been an entire calendar year since the USA began lockdown to eradicate COVID-19.

Over 500,000 in the USA dead from a virus because we couldn’t care about people over profits.

What have we learned?

We’ve seen an awful lot of uncaring people who fight mask mandates and argue with store employees.

We’ve seen retail stores and restaurants struggle to remain open. Some do a better job than others following recommended CDC guidelines, protecting their employees and customers.

We’ve see the breakdown of government leadership with an insurrection and failed coup.

We’ve seen local leaders torn between maintaining curfews and reopening the economy.

We’ve seen greedy corporations and wealthy individuals demanding more, more, more while so many are without the assistance they need to survive. Deregulation, privatization, and government bailouts make the rich richer.

We have seen vast discrepancies between the rich and poor, white and BIPOC, liberal and conservative, young and old.

We’ve seen our youth turn into zombies before the screen with so many hours of Zoom schooling. We have seen disparity with schooling for children of color and different socio-economic classes. What are we gonna do about it?

We’re in a housing crisis as so many are laid off and unable to work and therefore unable to pay rent.

Massive financial debt paralyzes a great percentage of our “first world” population – as poverty rates climb everywhere and there is no aid or end in sight.

Who are essential workers and why don’t we value them?

Climate chaos is here – vast fires and extreme cold and bizarre weather patterns.

The vaccine rollout is just a mess.

But go on, insensitive people, sure, go on that fancy vacation to imperil more lives who are dependent on your tourist dollars and have little choice but to serve you.

We have at this moment the chance to change our trajectory.

I am so thankful that my husband, eldest child, and I were able to be vaccinated.

My husband works in the WPAFB epidemiology lab. My daughter is a care worker for disabled adults. I was scheduled because I am a teacher. We file as an 08 school in Ohio and I received a message from the county that I qualified.

Our family has not dined in a restaurant in over a year. I haven’t gotten my hair done in over a year.

When did we stop caring about our neighbors?

Is it the rise of social media that gives us a false sense of community while erasing real empathy?

Why are politicians and those brainwashed by the “news” so concerned with avoiding socialism while maintaining American evangelicalism, racism, sexism, and capitalism, widening the vast abyss separating the haves with the have-nots?

We have seen how broken our health care system is and how so many people suffer trying to juggle their physical and mental health with keeping their jobs and paying rent. We can afford to care for people properly.

We now know how many jobs can be done virtually. We can abolish the rat race of 40+ hours a week. We can prioritize rest and relationships over profit. Will we do this?

What is the cult of self-care anyway? It’s doing all the unnoticed, tiny, deliberate, thankless tasks that keep us from falling downward into the spiral.

 Self-care should not be something we resort to because we are so absolutely exhausted that we need some reprieve from our own relentless internal pressure.

Brianna Wiest

If you’re thinking that the pandemic hasn’t really affected you and your family, then you’re not thinking far enough ahead nor about the bigger picture.

What is the effect this year of isolation will have on our children? And I’m not saying that our kids are gonna be behind in school. The psychological effects of watching our world burn this last year will be long-lasting.

What is the cost of a year without friends? Most of my kids’ acquaintances continued socializing all through this last year, oblivious to CDC guidelines. We are left behind, forgotten, dismissed. It will be difficult to reintegrate socially and do we even want to – with such callous people?

All the togetherness is trying for some families who are used to going their separate ways every morning – to day care, school, work. Our lifestyle hasn’t greatly changed. We’ve seen lots of complaining and comments from many families online. The lockdown provided children and parents time to learn they like one another. Or not. We have seen some issues with families who have to learn how to actually live together.

Why are so many yearning to “go back to normal” when it’s so obvious that normal isn’t working?

You might also like:

  • Maybe We’re Not Lost
  • Prayer for Quarantine
  • Lessons from Quarantine
  • Do Not Fear
  • Apocalyptic Media to Binge
  • Quarantine with Kids
  • Quarantine Schooling
  • Homeschooling During Quarantine

Linking up: Grammy’s Grid, Suburbia, Marilyn’s Treats, Pam’s Party, Random Musings, Anita Ojeda, April Harris, Create with Joy, InstaEncouragements, LouLou Girls, Our Three Peas, Anchored Abode, Grandma’s Ideas, Soaring with Him, Ridge Haven, Ducks in a Row, Girlish Whims, Fluster Buster, Ginger Snap, Penny’s Passion, Katherine’s Corner, OMHG, Imparting Grace, Try it Like it, Debbie Kitterman, Crystal Storms, Slices of Life, Answer is Choco, Wordsmith, Momfessionals, CWJ, Simply Sweet Home, Life on Oak Hill,

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Filed Under: Health Tagged With: quarantine

I am not insignificant

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

February 22, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert 19 Comments

I’m in my mid-40s and I still fight my inner thoughts that tell me I am worthless, unimportant, insignificant.

It doesn’t help that my parents still remind me, if not so much in the words they used to use during my childhood and youth, but in their action, inaction, criticism of myself and family, my parenting choices and lifestyle. They mostly just ignore me and my children. They’re uninterested in what we do. I don’t bother to share our triumphs with them. I rarely call them and when they call me, it’s only to list their medical appointments and complain about everything.

As an only child, I didn’t know anything different than my life with my dysfunctional parents. Since I wasn’t sexually molested or physically beaten, I didn’t realize I was being abused verbally, emotionally, and psychologically. I think many of us just wave away abuse and think others have it so much worse.

I often didn’t eat lunch at school. I remember sitting at the dinner table many nights, refusing to eat. I had frequent migraines for many years. I remember having painful digestive issues. I don’t have many memories of my mother comforting me or caring for me when I was sick or not feeling well. I remember my father with cold, wet washcloths and massaging my eyebrows.

I felt like a burden whenever I was sick, like I was inconveniencing my parents.

I struggled to make friends at school. I struggled with school, but I managed to make good enough grades and stay out of trouble for the most part.

I didn’t know other families were happy, loving, accepting while mine was demeaning, humiliating, intolerant.

Kids can’t be expected to recognize dismissal, emotional neglect, narcissism. I just learned to cope and avoid and cater to my parents’ sporadic moods. I woke up every single morning with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, worried what tantrums my parents might have that day and over what minor inconvenience or misspoken word by me.

I had a lot of freedom as a kid in the 1980s.

But it was mostly neglect.

I had no escape, no safe spaces.

We didn’t attend church. I mostly felt lost and alone at school. I was sent outside to play if I was home.

After school and during summers, I ran the neighborhood, often having lunch at a friend’s house and not coming home until the street lights came on.

My dad traveled a lot and it was more peaceful when he was gone. I wasn’t allowed to have friends over if he was home. I didn’t know this was unusual. I always accepted an invitation to a friend’s house to get away from my own home.

I avoided most of my friends’ parents while also silently begging for attention. They probably thought I was weird. I feared all adults, all authority.

My jack o’lantern was always smashed in the street on Halloween. The yard was often TP’ed and the house and mailbox egged. I didn’t know what this meant, but I realized much later that my dad was hated in the neighborhood for years for his outspoken intolerance and criticism. My parents didn’t have any friends.

My bedroom door didn’t close; the hinges were warped. I wasn’t allowed privacy. Closing the bathroom door never mattered; my parents would walk in without knocking.

I was encouraged to try many activities, but they never lasted long. I longed to do ballet and learn piano, but it never happened. Ballet lessons were “too expensive.” We had an old, out-of-tune organ and I got lessons for a few months when I was in fourth grade, but it was hard to practice. They wouldn’t pay to tune the organ or get me a piano keyboard. I didn’t know there were recreational sports, but I’m sure it was also too expensive.

I was a cheerleader in eighth grade and I can’t remember a single game where my parents attended to watch me cheer. They didn’t even pick me up from games. I had to bum rides from other parents to Pizza Hut and my parents would pick me up there. It was embarrassing to be the only kid without parents.

I tried basketball and tennis in school but I felt very out of place and didn’t know all the rules of the games.

I wasn’t allowed to take art in high school except for one semester as an elective. It was a tiny victory.

When I became a teenager and expected to do teenager things, my dad criticized me for wanting to hang out with friends or date. He acted jealous and irrational. I had no privacy. There was no trust. I’m surprised he got me a car – a 1974 VW Bug for $650. I’m surprised he let me have a part-time job and keep all my money. I had to lie and deceive just to go meet a friend at a store or restaurant or the library. He acted jealous I wanted to have other relationships.

I was never a bad kid. I was too scared to ever really do anything. I was always home on time, but I was yelled at if I was even one minute late. There was never any grace.

It hit me hard the other day that my parents told me I was unlovable and made me break up with my boyfriend when I was about eighteen. He was a lovely boy and his family were great. They loved me. They were kind and good to me.

Who knows where it could have gone if it had been allowed to progress naturally? Would we have grown apart during college? Would we have grown together? I will never know.

My parent’s selfishness and unwillingness to relinquish control broke both me and him. I never got to apologize to him. I found him on social media and he’s divorced with a couple kids and remarried. I won’t contact him to dredge up anything because why should I now, so many years later. It would be selfish of me. None of it was his fault.

My parents also gaslighted me after my suicide attempt when I was 21, that I was just being used by the man I was seeing. Again, they told me I was unlovable and stupid to put myself in this vulnerable position where they continued to control me.

My parents found therapists and doctors to tell them what great parents they were and how childish I was. I hadn’t reached individuation. I had no autonomy. I mean, really? I was 21, being treated like a 12-year-old.

A child that’s being abused by its parents doesn’t stop loving its parents, it stops loving itself.

Shahida Arabi, Becoming the Narcissist’s Nightmare: How to Devalue and Discard the Narcissist While Supplying Yourself

I was weak and hurt and fragile. I felt trapped.

This pushed me over the edge to run away and marry him.

I regret this, but it is what it is. What if I had been stronger? What if I’d had any support from anyone?

After I ran away, my parents found another therapist to tell them what a bad daughter I was – selfish and childish and ungrateful.

But I wasn’t a bad daughter. I was a desperate daughter, seeking connection.

My parents love to remind me all they did for me. They bought me clothes and kept the groceries stocked and paid for the house we lived in.

They provided for my basic needs.

They bought cars and paid for the insurance until I ran away. I never really asked for or wanted the cars that they traded in every couple years. It was like a weird game for them. They claimed newer cars were safer. Obviously I needed a way to get to school and work and I appreciated not having the bills.

They paid for my divorce. My parents co-signed for my apartment. Then my father co-signed on my home mortgage.

But, they never paid for my education. I did that with scholarships for my bachelor’s and a loan for my master’s. They maybe paid some tuition when I dual enrolled as a high school senior and paid for some books and admin fees.

Oh, how they love to remind me about every little thing.

Everything had strings attached.

They don’t value emotions or struggles or triumphs.

They refuse to discuss anything they don’t like.

Moving away was probably the best thing I ever did.

I had panic attacks the first two years. Then I spent a few years trying on personae to see who I liked. I didn’t know who I wanted to be. I couldn’t remember what I had ever liked.

It took many years to learn how to be myself. Sometimes I still forget.

Yes, I have been to various therapists. Yes, I have tried various medications for depression and anxiety. It’s been a long, hard road – to nowhere.

I am healing myself.

My parents have never expressed interest in maintaining contact with me or my children via snail mail, social media, or any communication technology. They just don’t want to. They sometimes complain that my emails go to their spam folder, but I don’t understand how that would happen.

My parents only visited us a few times times during all these sixteen years. They always stayed in hotels, which is a small blessing.

My parents drove out to San Antonio, Texas, twice, for the births of my middle girls. They were no help to us during that time. I had to entertain them and go out to dinner with them – all sooner than I should have left the house.

They flew to Hawaii for a vacation during December – the rainiest dreariest month. My father was sick almost the whole time and the plane ride for hard for him.

He couldn’t be bothered to come back out for the birth of my son a year later. My mother came alone and it was stressful. I had to rely on her for help. After all, wasn’t that why she was there? She was cruel to my daughters and I was unavailable and didn’t know until after she had flown home.

Then they visited me and the kids in Utah while my husband was deployed. My kids’ schedules were greatly disrupted and my parents wanted me to cater to their needs – to the detriment of my children. They got mad at me and left early, then sent me hate mail about what a bad mother I am and such a disrespectful daughter.

They never visited us while we lived in Germany.

We stayed with my parents before PCSing to Germany and when we PCSed back to The States. It was stressful. My dad had tantrums and left for an entire day, disappointing my son. Promises were not kept with my eldest. Everything was performance-based and we were all so confused.

They came up to Ohio for Christmas when my husband was deployed the second time. It was mostly ok. They stayed at a hotel and my kids are older and busier and less bothered by them.

They surprised my husband by driving up for his promotion ceremony in spring. They adore my husband.

Over the years, my relationship with my parents is superficial at best.

I reply to their emails every day or two. If I don’t email every day, I get criticized for not caring. They use Yahoo email like the rest of us use Messenger and they think my replies should be instant. My dad still has an ancient cell phone that only makes and receives calls. My mom got a newer Android phone but she doesn’t really know how to use it.

It’s been a lot. I’ve spent years trying to heal myself and this generational trauma.

I’ve struggled to make healthy relationships with others all my life. I worry my kids don’t know how to make and keep friends because they don’t see me or their father succeed in this. I feel alone and lost.

My parents have ignored me since January 6 and I really don’t know why this time.

They periodically do this and I always contacted them to apologize – for nothing, anything, just to make amends to whatever imagined ill they felt I inflicted.

Perhaps they’re mad that I voted differently and have different political views. My father emailed my husband, telling him he bought a gun and carry license.

I carry all this heaviness around with me all the time. My kids and husband don’t have these weights. They will never understand.

I am not insignificant.

You might also like:

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  • Breaking the Cycle of Negativity
  • Red Flags
  • Personal Growth
  • Ashamed
  • I’m Angry
  • I am a Suicide Survivor
  • Abortion

Linking up: Random Musings, April Harris, Little Cottage, Marilyn’s Treats, Mostly Blogging, InstaEncouragements, Lou Lou Girls, Create with Joy, Our Three Peas, Grandma’s Ideas, Anchored Abode, Soaring with Him, Ridge Haven, Ducks in a Row, Girlish Whims, Fluster Buster, Debbie Kitterman, Slices of Life, Grammy’s Grid, Imparting Grace, Penny’s Passion, Crystal Storms, Katherine’s Corner, Ginger Snap Crafts, OMHG, Answer is Choco, Wordsmith, Momfessionals, Pieced Pastimes, CWJ, Try it Like it, Embracing Unexpected, Anita Ojeda,

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Filed Under: Health Tagged With: abuse, growth, relationships

Rosemary Lemon Turkey Meatballs

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

February 15, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert 3 Comments

One of my family’s favorite meals is turkey meatballs. It seems light but filling. One pack of turkey is barely enough for 5 people these days! There are no leftovers.

It’s a forgiving recipe and you could mix up the seasoning for different combinations. You could also use the prepared Italian bread crumbs to save time. Gluten free options like almond flour would surely substitute fine in this recipe.

I use dried onions because they all but disintegrate, leaving flavor but almost undetectable by picky eaters. You could also grate or chop fresh onion.

If the lemon is too strong, you could serve the meatballs with plain gravy.

I use a ice cream scoop to measure out the meat mixture and roll them in wet hands to form balls. Flouring the meatballs gives them a nice crispy texture.

The lemon gravy is super simple and my family loves it!

This is a simple meal on busy nights. I can have it on the table in about 30 minutes if I form the meatballs earlier in the day and store in the fridge.

I usually serve these delicious rosemary lemon turkey meatballs with broccoli and noodles.

4 from 1 vote
Print

Rosemary Lemon Turkey Meatballs

Course Main Dish
Servings 12 meatballs

Ingredients

  • 1 package ground turkey
  • 1 egg
  • 1/4 cup panko
  • 1 t dried onions
  • 1/2 t crushed rosemary
  • 1/2 t lemon peel
  • 1/2 t garlic
  • salt and pepper

Lemon Sauce

  • 1/4 cup butter
  • 1/4 cup flour
  • splash sherry
  • 1/2 cup chicken stock
  • 1/4 cup lemon juice
  • garlic, rosemary, salt, pepper

Instructions

  1. Mix meatballs and let sit covered in refrigerator for at least an hour.

  2. Flour meatballs and let sit until absorbed. Flour again.

  3. Fry meatballs in oil on medium heat until cooked through – about 5-8 minutes each side. Or place in a muffin tin with oil and roast for 20 minutes at 375*, turning once.

  4. Keep meatballs warm while you make sauce and sides.

  5. For optional sauce, melt 1/4 cup butter and add equal amount of flour and whisk until paste. Do not allow it to brown. Add a splash of sherry, 1/2 cup chicken stock, juice of one lemon. Add rosemary, garlic, salt, pepper. Whisk and simmer until thick. Strain. Serve sauce with meatballs and noodles. We like steamed broccoli too.

Linking up: Create with Joy, Marilyn’s Treats, April Harris, Farmhouse 40, Creative K Kids, Little Cottage, LouLou Girls, Grammy’s Grid, Grandmas’ Ideas, Anchored Abode, InstaEncouragements, Soaring with Him, Ridge Haven Homestead, Fluster Buster, Ducks in a Row, Girlish Whims, GingerSnap Crafts, Debbie Kitterman, Slices of Life, Miz Helen, Try it Like it, Penny’s Passion, Simply Sweet Home, Chic on a Shoestring, Answer is Choco, Momfessionals, Katherine’s Corner, OMHG, CWJ, Imparting Grace, Wordsmith, Suburbia,

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Filed Under: Recipes Tagged With: recipe, turkey

Firstleaf Review

The blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure. Also see my suggested resources.

February 8, 2021 By Jennifer Lambert Leave a Comment

I really miss the wine culture of Europe.

We’ve had a hard time finding good wine since we moved back to the States and settled in Ohio. The prices are exorbitant for mediocre wines. Many of the wines from the USA give me headaches whereas the lovely wines of Greece, France, Spain, Portugal, and Italy seldom did.

I miss the variety available in Europe and the ability to try new wines with the seasons, comparing grapes and flavors.

My husband I joined Firstleaf for our Christmas present to each other. I like that it included imports and local wines and we can choose between reds, whites, rosé, and sparkling – or a combination.

We took a little online quiz for our preferences and tastes. I don’t really like sweet wines and we drink way more reds than others.

We chose and ordered our first six wines and I was delighted with the unboxing.

FedEx delivered to my front door and since it’s very cold out, the delivery person rang my bell and verified I am myself.

The bottles are well padded and protected.

I love the wine information cards and newsletter about upcoming wine choices and trends.

Our first two boxes included only reds – from California, Europe, and Oceana.

Each wine comes with an information card. On the website, there is a great deal of info about the wine, winery, grapes, and history.

There is even a “wine school” on the site with oodles of articles about wine.

Wines we tried so far:

Marbleize Red Blend from California

We had this wine with grilled steak and plank grilled salmon.

This wine is a New World take on an Old World blend. Hailing from Paso Robles and inspired by the blends coming out of Southern Rhône, this Red Blend of Grenache, Syrah, and Petite Sirah showcases the best of the region. With a savory spicy flavor profile, a medium body, and long fine tannins, this is a wine that is easy to appreciate.

Posted Accord “Coffee” Pinotage from South Africa

We drank this wine with a coffee-rubbed grilled tritip.

Pinotage is indigenous to South Africa, and this beautiful wine is a perfect reflection of the varietal. Grown in the Western Cape of South Africa, Pinotage is often called “Coffee Pinotage” because of the rich mocha and coffee flavors that come forward due to oak aging. This is a characteristic unique to the varietal and is now a rather famous selling point. This particular Pinotage has both bright and dark red fruit flavors with a hint of spice. It is rustic with a rich body and features long fine-grained tannins. Best served with stews or dishes featuring spiced meats or a tomato-base.

Scissor Kick Cellars Shiraz from Australia

We drank this wine with cashew chicken.

South Australia is the heartbeat of Australian wine production, responsible for over half the country’s output each year. A generally warm climate with maritime influences near the coast, the region includes countless appellations, though the most well-known are arguably Barossa Valley and Clare Valley. The continent experiences an environment that creates near-perfect conditions for grape growing, the most famous of the varietals being Shiraz. This wine is bright, well balanced, approachable, and intense all at the same time. It is less nuanced than some of its fellow Shiraz from the region but just as enjoyable. Bright fruit flavors and a savory characteristic jump out of the glass. This wine will shine with rich red meat dishes and is a perfect pair for late fall al fresco dining with friends.

Tres Tigres Tristes Vinho Tinto from Portugal

We had this wine with a grilled eye of round roast.

This beautiful Portuguese blend is a mix of Castelão (a grape also called “little parrot”) and Aragonês (also better known as Tempranillo) and has a beautifully complex bouquet and even more complex flavors. The fruit dominates, but savory flavors peek out from behind the fruit. Mushrooms and savory, gamey notes mingle beautifully with nutmeg and clove. This complexity won’t be overwhelmed by powerful dishes, so we would recommend trying it with steak au poivre, rosemary lamb chops, or even a tomato tart. Judges love it too! It took home a Silver medal at the 2020 Winemaker Challenge and at the 2019 Sommelier Challenge.

Swirl Zinfandel from California

We drank this wine with a grilled Balsamic London Broil.

California’s wine appellations are all individually unique, making the state idyllic for grape growing. The combination of varying temperatures, distinct soils that make fruit work hard for nutrients, and weather patterns influenced by the coast create environments where fruit thrives. The majority of the rainfall occurs outside of the growing season, but also can cool down the heat spikes that often occur just after bud break in the spring. Two mountain ranges run the spine of the state and come together to create near-perfect vineyard conditions. Zinfandel could arguably be considered California’s grape, and this wine is a beautiful example of what the varietal can be. Classic in style, this wine is soft and lush with bold yet smooth fruit compote flavors. Baking spice notes and slight spiciness also jump out of the glass, complementing the fruit-forward profile. Soft tannins round out the mouthfeel and make every sip linger. Enjoy with your favorite rustic dishes.

My favorite so far: Le Douleur Exquise Grenache Pays d’Oc IGP from France

We had this wine with a beef stew.

The 2020 International Women’s Wine Competition is one of the few wine competitions that were held just before the world hit pause on social gatherings. We are thrilled to have earned the accolades of 95 Points and Double Gold and to be named “Best of Class” by women winemakers, influencers, and industry legends. If that weren’t enough to lend credibility to our winemaking team, perhaps winning 98 Points and Double Gold at the 2020 Sunset Magazine International Wine Competition does. Broadly speaking, one aspect of Old World vs. New World flavor profiles is that New World wines are known to be fruit-forward and higher alcohol – Old World not as much. Our French Grenache breaks from that tradition with our 2019 vintage, featuring rousingly prominent fruit flavors in this classic French varietal.

There are special shipments or bundles of wine for holidays – like Valentine’s reds. We can choose to purchase a case of half-case of favorites. Also, Firstleaf Exclusives are available in singles or cases.

I love the ease of ordering wine each month or special selections at other times. The prices are very competitive and I don’t have to leave the house.

We looked into other wine clubs and like the variety of Firstleaf.

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Filed Under: Reviews Tagged With: review, wine

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