Of all of my children, I am the most connected to Kenzie’s life experiences. I’m assuming this is because she is a girl and, well, so am I. But, while with the boys I can be more objective and logical when it comes to matters of the heart (or social situations), when it comes to her it hits just a bit closer to home.
Now, keep in mind that she is nothing like me. She is braver, bolder, stronger, more self-confident, and cooler than I ever was. Or still am. So it’s not as if I look at her and see a young Meaghan and all of the young Meaghan traumas I endured. It’s more that I can just relate to her, to the universal girlhood situations I see her walk through. There are so many nuances and experiences to girlhood that haven’t seemed to change or evolve an awful lot since my girlhood days of the late 80s and 90s so I am connected, probably too much so, when she walks through something that I can relate to based on my own life story.
This happened just a few months ago.
I’ll spare you all of the gory details, both in the interest of time and also to protect the people involved (including my daughter) but there was a situation with some friends where she was feeling majorly left out. I want to be clear with you, a lot of this is on her. She is at her gym 20 hours a week, which leaves very little time for socializing and her entire life is her teammates, not as much her classmates. But that doesn’t alter how she felt when she noticed that she was being left out and not invited or included in certain big-ticket kid experiences like birthday parties and trick-or-treating.
We spent many a bedtime chat session going over it and talking through it, mostly me encouraging her to make more of an effort to connect with her classmates so they know she wants to be friends with her.
Until, one final day, something major happened (which, in hindsight, was probably actually minor) that brought her to panicked tears one morning on the way to school and triggered very intense memories and emotions for me as well. In the very short drive between our house and morning drop-off, I was able to keep my own feelings tamped down and put on my best “you’ve got this” cheerleader “don’t let them bring you down” game face to get her through the door without a big scene. I knew, somehow instinctively at that moment, the way moms do, that she needed to know I was behind her and that it was going to be ok. So I tried my best.
But when I walked in the door of my own house, that’s when the tears started flowing. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t even really explain them. They just kept coming.
Dillon, who was slumped over the counter shoveling Cheerios in his mouth the way teenage boys do, looked up at me and said “Mom, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”
My response to him was “NO. I’m not ok. It’s nothing big or life-shattering. I just got sad and upset for a minute because of something that happened. I’ll be ok. I just need to feel this to get through it.”
Y’all, this was the moment when I became a certified mature-a$$ grown-up.
OK. Maybe not. But this was, in fact, maybe one of the most mature things I’ve ever said in my whole entire life, which is usually littered with fart jokes and bad puns.
This was not a freak event, though, this semi-healthy emotional processing. It was the product of gut-wrenching work in therapy, untangling trauma, life-long emotional dysregulation, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. My normal reaction to something like this? It would be to pretend I’m not upset. Stuff it down. Tell myself, “there’s no reason to be sad. You’re just crazy.” Choke back tears, then blow up later at something completely unrelated to the original event.
Because I somehow have been conditioned to believe that feeling emotions is wrong and expressing them is unsafe.
Now I’m not an expert on this (but stay tuned because I plan on having a few experts on my Thursday lunch chat over on IG AND writing some guest posts on the blog about it) but I do know that after responding to Dillon, I walked away, had a good cry, did some deep breathing, and worked through it so that I could come back calmer, less emotional, and ready to handle the situation without drama.
Which I did. (self-high five)
I’m not saying I rocked this or was perfect, but I am saying that this was a very valuable lesson to me. Sometimes you’ve just got to feel it. And it will suck. And you’ll have to cry and scream and maybe even say a few bad words. But allowing yourself to feel the emotions safely and without judgment, also allows you to process them.
Because, after all, your emotions are not true. They’re just emotions.
Friends, if you relate to this idea of walking through your emotions but don’t know how to start, I’ve linked some great articles from actual experts below. And, as I said, stay tuned. One of my goals this year is to bring your more useful content from people who are experts in their field (ie: not me). So please stick around. I love where this journey is taking us, the BurntToast family, together. And I can’t wait to see where we end up, all emotionally regulated and stuff, together.
Easy Vegan Peanut Butter Cookies
Just like my famous pound cake and my hot milk cake, this recipe is a throwback inspired by my grandmother’s recipe box. This box, if you don’t know, sits on one of my living room shelves as decor but also doubles as one of my top 10 “things I would save in a fire” items in the house. It’s old. Ancient. Nearly falling apart decrepit. Yet it’s filled with treasures worth more than gold to me.
Because food is my love language and a giant slice of my heritage.
Sure, there are some real 1950s stinkers in there like ham casseroles and, for whatever reason, pickled salads. Lots and lots of pickled salads. But, the majority of the recipes in that little green box are baked goods, passed down from generation to generation. Often they have the name of a neighbor or a friend, long gone from this Earth I’m sure, scribbled in the corner, all whispers of generations past.
Bessie’s Chocolate Cake
Harriet’s Jello Ring
Esther’s PB Cookies
I’ll personally never know these women, but it hits somewhere deep to know that here we are in 2022, holding recipes they wrote with their pencils, on now-yellowed index cards to share with friends and family. That is a legacy, friends. This is permanence.
And it’s beautiful.
Anyway, now that I’ve waxed poetic about old recipe boxes, let’s get to these amazing PB cookies (which come from E. Grant, may she RIP). Apparently, E. Grant was gluten-free before it was cool, because the base of this recipe was completely 100% without any flour, to begin with. Knowing I wanted them vegan (for #veganuary of course) I made the first batch just as beautiful E. Grant deemed I should, with my only swap being almond milk for her proposed dairy. (I don’t believe they even had almond milk then, to be honest).
They had amazing flavor but were crisp, now chewy. Which is how I prefer my PB cookies. So I swapped out half of the white sugar and added in brown. With its higher molasses content, it gives the perfect softness to counterbalance the crisper white sugar. This creates a wonderful contrast–crispy edges and soft middle. They’re addicting.
I also decided to blend the oats just a bit so it was more of oat flour and less of an oatmeal cookie. I ran them for about 5-7 pulses, leaving about half intact and half ground into flour. This gives the cookie more fullness than the original while still allowing it to maintain some of the character and body the oats provided.
Lastly, a pinch of salt is always necessary for me in baking. WHY? I don’t know. But it works. I’m sure there is some science voodoo behind it.
This Easy Gluten-Free Peanut Butter Cookie recipe doesn’t make a big batch, at most I got 18 out of it. So if you’re feeding a crowd I would recommend doubling (they are addicting, after all). Also, if the batter is sticky when you’re rolling them, wet your hands just a bit and it will keep it from becoming a mess.
Lastly, if you can eat just one of these I will be impressed. Followed by a huge glass of milk (or almond milk, if necessary), they are the perfect after-school/before-school/anytime really treat.
Peace, love, and feelings,
Meg
Easy Gluten-Free Peanut Butter Cookies
Ingredients
- 1/2 cup white sugar
- 1/2 cup brown sugar
- 1 cup natural peanut butter (the runnier the better)
- pinch of salt
- 1/2 cup oats, ground in blender for 5 pulses to make a combo oat flour
- 1/4 cup almond milk (or non-dairy milk of your liking)
- 1 teaspoon vanilla
Directions
- Step 1 Preheat oven to 325 and line baking sheets with parchment paper.
- Step 2 Cream peanut butter and both sugars together until smooth.
- Step 3 Add oat flour and salt, mixing until completely combined.
- Step 4 Add almond milk and vanilla, mixing once again until batter is formed.
- Step 5 Scoop batter out by the 1/2 tablespoon full (smaller if you want more cookies) and roll into balls.
- Step 6 Press down gently with palm and then use the back of a fork to press completely creating the iconic hashtag on top.
- Step 7 Bake for 16-18 minutes but always err on the side of underbaking. They will crisp up as the cool.
- Step 8 Keep on pan until almost completely cooled, removing to wire rack only once they are able to be picked up without crumbling.
- Step 9 ENJOY!
If you need more resources to help begin your emotional regulation journey, check this out:
How To Safely Explore Emotions (A Guided Video)
Welcome to BurntToast! My name is Meaghan, and this is my safe space, a place where we can share stories, share recipes and share life. It’s my dream that you can come here, kick your shoes off and pour yourself a glass of wine while you read, laugh, and maybe even hop into the kitchen. This is my heart, for all of you to see. And ALL are welcome here.