Boost Your Day with #BulletproofCoffee

I enjoy coffee. Understatement of the year, ladies and gents. Coffee is the reason I get out of bed in the morning. Sometimes at night when the anxiety trolls are running rampant in my brain and I can’t fall asleep, I soothe myself by thinking about the coffee I’m going to enjoy the next morning. I walk myself through the ritual of measuring the grounds, prepping the pot, frothing the milk, and it calms me down enough to drift off into dreamland. Coffee is my bff.

Being a bit of a coffee connoisseur, of course I had heard about Bulletproof Coffee, but I thought it was just coffee with butter in it for gym rats and people who earnestly refer to their diet as being “caveman.” Why mess with a good thing? My coffee was not broken so why should I fix it?

Bulletproof Coffee

Not only was I borderline snarky, I was completely wrong. Bulletproof Coffee is not some weird nutritional fad. It’s a healthy lifestyle choice that’s backed by science. Coffee science (the best kind).

Bulletproof Coffee is so much more than just coffee with butter in it. Bulletproof Coffee is:

 Upgraded Coffee

Bulletproof Upgraded Coffee Beans are meticulously grown at high altitude on single estates in Guatemala, hand-harvested, carefully processed, handled and roasted to maintain maximum integrity and flavour. The final roast must meet stringent quality and purity standards. Cheaper coffee varieties use poorer quality beans which often have a higher percentage of damaged (as in moldy) beans.

Grass-fed, Unsalted Butter or Ghee

Here’s where your coffee gets that creamy quality that keeps you full and satisfied. Butter has the benefits of healthy milk fat without the denatured casein proteins found in cream. It’s a healthy fat that provides sustained energy levels instead of peaks and valleys.

Grass-fed butter is higher than grain-fed butter in omega-3 fatty acids, CLA, beta-carotene, vitamin A, vitamin K, vitamin D, vitamin E, and antioxidants.

If you can’t find grass-fed butter, grass-fed ghee is a great substitute (and it’s shelf stable).

Brain Octane Oil

Buckle up, kids, we’re about to get science-y. Brain Octane Oil provides a rapid energy boost with no crash. It’s a purified form of medium-chain triglyceride (MCT) oil distilled from 100% pure coconut oil. As soon as it’s consumed, it’s rapidly absorbed and provides instant energy to the brain without breaking down glucose from sugars or carbohydrates. It takes just three steps to convert Brain Octane to cellular fuel for your body and brain whereas it takes sugar 25 steps.

Which is all very interesting but what I wanted to know was does it taste good?

Yes, Bulletproof Coffee tastes good. Does it taste like a double mocha extra whip choco-extravaganza? No. But that’s not a bad thing. The butter gives the coffee a lovely, creamy quality and after using my immersion blender for maximum mixing power, I ended up with a cup of coffee that was nice and frothy and almost latte-like. The Brain Octane is completely taste-free. And the Upgraded Coffee tastes like coffee. Delicious, life-affirming coffee. Pro tip: add a sprinkle of cinnamon to your grounds before brewing for a hint of flavour (no need for flavoured creamers that are full of sugar and regret).

More important than the taste is how Bulletproof Coffee makes me feel. Mornings are a bit of a struggle in our house. Juggling Grady’s new school routine and an infant is not very much fun. I spend my mornings trying to get a good breakfast into Grady, finding lost library books, changing diapers, and sprinting up the street to kindergarten drop-off with an angry baby strapped to my chest. By the time I make it home, I’ve been awake for roughly three hours and I’m surviving on caffeine and whatever scraps I’ve managed to scavenge from Grady’s plate. It’s a caffeine high followed by the lowest low and it’s exhausting. I’ve noticed that my caffeine buzz is less of a rollercoaster after drinking Bulletproof Coffee instead of my usual hazelnut latte(s). I still feel energized and more awake; I just don’t have the soul-crushing caffeine crash. It’s more of a steady burn that carries me through my hectic morning and into the afternoon. The healthy fats fill me up and I’m not tempted to inhale the discarded crust from Grady’s toast or a sneaky granola bar when I’m packing his lunch.

Drinking Bulletproof Coffee feels like a choice I’m making to support a healthier lifestyle, like taking a multivitamin or exercising. It’s not a quick fix or an empty promise; it’s something that I’m doing for me because it makes me feel better. And because, you know, coffee. 

This post is sponsored by 3 Chicken Consulting on behalf of Bulletproof Coffee. The opinions are my own. My opinions are not expert opinions. I don’t have a secret medical degree I’ve never mentioned. Before you undertake any dietary change, you should consult your doctor and make a plan that works for your body.

You're Not My Buddy

I check in with Grady every night as we're doing his bedtime routine. We talk about his day. What he did at school. Who he played with. What he ate. What he'd like to eat tomorrow. It's mostly small-talk but I want him to be in the habit of talking to me so when he's faced with bigger stuff down the line he'll know I'm always ready to listen.

Last week he was giving me the rundown of his day (liked the cheese sandwich in his lunchbox, did not like the crackers I gave him for recess, read a couple books at school, tooted about 20 times,) and he told me that a kid on the playground told him he couldn't play with him.

I saw red.

Grady wasn't even upset, he was just relaying the information like all the other tidbits he'd already delivered. I kept my cool in front of him but after he was asleep, I was livid. I was crafting emails to the teacher in my head. I was ranting on Twitter. I was full on mama bear.

And then I took a breath. I decided that if Grady wasn't upset, I wasn't upset. I'd keep an eye on the situation and continue to check in with Grady, but I wouldn't make it a thing.

And it wasn't a thing. It was one random comment from one random kid on the playground.

Yesterday I dropped Grady off at school. He lined up with his class. He waved to a couple friends. And then a classmate said good morning to him. Grady looked him straight in the eye and said, "you're not my buddy."

My heart sunk but the bell rang and the kids filed into the school before I could do anything.

I stewed all day. I asked friends for help. I asked Twitter for book recommendations on friendship and kindness. I carefully thought out what I would say to Grady and how I would approach the situation. He doesn't have to be friends with every kid at school but he does have to be kind. I'm not interested in forcing him to be friends with anyone he doesn't want to be friends with but I will drill kindness into him every day until I die.

Last night I casually asked why he had told that boy he wasn't his buddy. I was expecting tears and defensive stories about rude behaviour (the biggest transgression you can make in Grady's eyes). Grady nonchalantly answered, "because I don't know his name."

The kid isn't Grady's buddy because Grady doesn't know his name. There was no malice in his comment, just pure 5-year-old logic.

Our conversation turned out to be completely different than the one I was expecting to have with him. Which is a good thing. Keeps me on my toes. (And reminds me to stop jumping to conclusions.)

And now Grady knows how to introduce himself to kids he doesn't know. And I now know that I need to take a step back from schoolyard politics before I get an ulcer.

Coffee Rage

It rained yesterday. Like, really rained. The sky opened and giant, cold raindrops poured down. It was not pleasant out is what I'm saying.

I was meeting a group of people at someone's house and my route takes me by a Starbucks drive-through so I stopped for drinks. Four drinks to be exact. Which doesn't feel like an unreasonable number of drinks to order at a drive-through window. I would never pull up and order, say, twenty drinks but four is totally within reason. I could have had four coffee-drinking adults in my car (I didn't. It was just me and Pops. But still. I could have.)

So! I pull up to the Starbucks. It's neither the morning nor lunchtime rush. There were a few cars in front of me but the location wasn't overly busy. It was a standard weekday morning. I ordered my drinks at the talky-box and pulled forward to the window to collect my drinks.

And there I waited.

I waited for five minutes. Maybe ten. I recognized the window guy as someone who's been there for a while and knows his stuff but his demeanor and that of the woman making the drinks made me think that he was training her. So whatever. I have to wait a few extra minutes for my drinks. I'm still in my nice, dry car. Poppy is still asleep in the backseat instead of protesting being moved from her car seat to stroller. I'm about to enjoy some delicious caffeine. All is good.

And then all of a sudden there's an aggressively highlighted blonde woman shouting in my car window about how she doesn't have time to wait fifteen minutes for coffee.  

Totally flustered, I managed to squeak out, "this is Starbucks!" while my brain caught up. (I say the dumbest stuff when I'm caught off-guard. Like seriously dumb.) She turned to scream at the Starbucks employees while I looked around and assessed the situation. The driver's side door of the car behind me stood open and no one was inside. The screamer had obviously been waiting behind me, raging, and finally could not take it anymore. She exited her vehicle, in a rainstorm, to yell at me and the people earning just above minimum wage to make her over-priced coffee.

Now, I don't know her life. Maybe she was having a terrible day. Maybe she was on her way to the hospital to visit a sick loved one. Maybe she just found out her partner is cheating on her. Maybe she just got fired. I don't know. And I kind of don't care. I don't care how bad your day (or your life) is. This is a society. There are rules. One of the rules is that you don't get to yell at people for not making your coffee fast enough. 

Finishing up her rant at the Starbucks employees with a hearty, "get to it!" she turned to me and hissed, "I don't have time for this." I'm sorry, you don't have time for what? You don't have time to drive your (nice) Mercedes to a place where you don't even have to get out of your car, someone brings the coffee right to you, and all you have to do is give them a bit of cash and, I don't know, not be a complete asshole? Gotcha.

To sum it all up: some people are terrible. Let's do better.

Pumping with the #MedelaCanada #Freestyle to Support my Breastfeeding Goals

I've chosen to breastfeed my babies and I'm lucky enough to have the breastmilk supply and support systems in place to make that choice. I know not everyone is lucky enough to have so few barriers standing in the way of breastfeeding success and I don't judge others for making different choices when it comes to feeding their babies. We're all doing the best we can and at the end of the day, if our babies are fed and loved, we're doing our job. Let's take a minute to pat ourselves on the back. Well done, parents! We're doing a great job.

With that being said, I am breastfeeding. I also pump to provide breastmilk for Poppy when I'm not with her and to protect my supply. The Medela Freestyle double electric breast pump supports my breastfeeding goals by making it quick and easy to pump when I'm not with my nursling. I don't worry about my supply suffering and I'm able to leave her with expressed breastmilk when we're apart. Breastmilk is a renewable resource but it can't be turned on and off at will. Breastmilk has to be removed from the breast (either by breastfeeding or pumping) in order for the body to produce more milk. If I miss a feeding because Poppy and I are separated, my milk production slows. It's science.

I used a Medela Swing when Grady was little and I was pumping to donate to the BC Women's Provincial Milk Bank and it got the job done. It was steady and reliable. It was the station wagon of breast pumps. The Freestyle is the luxury sports car of breast pumps. It comes fully loaded with all the bells and whistles, it's sleek and streamlined, and it's fast. The Freestyle gets the job done well and it gest the job done quickly.

Double pumping is brilliant. I literally get double the milk output in the same amount of time as when I pump my breasts individually. Not only that, I've found that my body responds better to double pumping with the Freestyle than it ever did with a single pump system because I'm not trying to stimulate my let-down reflex twice. The Freestyle's memory function allows me to set the suction strength at my personal comfort level so I can instantly return to the same setting in the future with the press of a button, making pumping easier and more efficient.

The Freestyle is one of the smallest double pumps on the market. It's compact, doesn't weigh much, and features a handy-dandy clip so you can attach it to your belt and pump on the go. The rechargeable battery means the Freestyle is totally portable so you're not restricted to only pumping near a wall outlet (but the handy dandy AC/DC transformer cord makes it easy to do so; the pump can be used while charging when portability isn't a concern).

I don't have a lot of spare time right now (understatement of the year). Between Grady's kindergarten schedule (I swear his social life is more active than mine is) and the demands of life with an infant (hello, 4-month sleep regression) I don't have room for complicated or inefficient routines. My pumping routine needs to be simple and flexible, and that's exactly what the Freestyle provides. It delivers high-tech features without being fussy or complex to operate. Which is kind of perfect for me as I stumble through each day on approximately 37 minutes of sleep (only a slight exaggeration, I assure you).

{Disclosure: I am part of the PTPA Brand Ambassador Program with Medela Canada and I received compensation as part of my affiliation with this group. The opinions on this blog are my own.}