I was never one with a big sweet tooth. I could pass on most cakes, pretty much every pie, didn't give a hoot about cookies. I had a couple weaknesses. I love ice cream. Always have, always will. I can build an entire day's menu around eating chocolate chip cookies. Only homemade. And I have a secret love of Jell-o no bake cheese cake.
So like I said, no real sweet tooth...until I got pregnant. Then suddenly I got one. And now I'm trying to kill it. It is not helping with the whole weight loss thing. During Lent Big Daddy and I gave up desserts. That worked in breaking me of my daily dessert habit. But sometimes I just want something sweet.
We came up with some things that worked well as subs when we just really needed something and my favorite was my peanut butter, banana and honey combination. It is super easy and I pulled it out again tonight.
So here's all you need.
1 banana
1 Tablespoon Peanut Butter
a few chocolate chips if you are so inclined.
Honey
Split banana down the middle and put in microwave safe bowl.
Spread with peanut butter and sprinkle with chocolate chips.
Nuke it for 1 minute until banana is soft. Drizzle with honey and enjoy.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Let's Get Physical, and maybe a bit risqué
So as I mentioned, Big Daddy and I are trying to get fit. He's done amazing, losing almost 40 pounds in 3 and a half months. I have lost like 5 pounds in the same time. But that is neither here nor there. I'm definitely getting healthier.
So with this new commitment to fitness I figured it was time to step out of the old baggy pajama pants and sorority tees (how sad after a decade removed from college I am still sporting tees from my freshman year). So off I head to the sporting goods store. I am sure there are some fantastic advancements in fabrics but $60 for a pair of workout pants seems insane to me. I mean, do they make me burn more calories? Probably not. Do they hide the fat on my ass better than the cheap pair? Nope. Do they make that last set of squats less painful? Doubtful. So I settled for the pair that was still like $40 with tears in my eyes. I want to spend that money on something awesome, like food, or new underwear. And on that stream, when did I lose all my respectable underwear? I used to have drawers full. Now, all lame and boring and eerily similar to the kind my mom wears.
So then it was time to look for "supportive" items. So I try on several and discover something very disturbing. All of the ones I tried on had padding of some sort, and all of them made it look...how should I put this...like I was really really cold. Is this a new thing in fitness? I mean don't get me wrong, I have seen some doozies at the gym. The girls with lace tops; the long, braided pigtails; the knee high argyle socks with the same underwear shorts I'm pretty sure I was forced to wear for high school volleyball. Since when is me sweating and gross at the gym my opportunity to get sexy. You'd be lucky to have me with freshly brushed teeth, let alone looking all hot and desirable. My goal is just not to be the stinky one in the gym.
So needless to say, I passed on the nipped out sports bras. I'll stick with my old school ones that keep everything in place and my unfortunately my sexpot alter ego won't get to come out while I'm sweating and cursing my trainer.
So with this new commitment to fitness I figured it was time to step out of the old baggy pajama pants and sorority tees (how sad after a decade removed from college I am still sporting tees from my freshman year). So off I head to the sporting goods store. I am sure there are some fantastic advancements in fabrics but $60 for a pair of workout pants seems insane to me. I mean, do they make me burn more calories? Probably not. Do they hide the fat on my ass better than the cheap pair? Nope. Do they make that last set of squats less painful? Doubtful. So I settled for the pair that was still like $40 with tears in my eyes. I want to spend that money on something awesome, like food, or new underwear. And on that stream, when did I lose all my respectable underwear? I used to have drawers full. Now, all lame and boring and eerily similar to the kind my mom wears.
So then it was time to look for "supportive" items. So I try on several and discover something very disturbing. All of the ones I tried on had padding of some sort, and all of them made it look...how should I put this...like I was really really cold. Is this a new thing in fitness? I mean don't get me wrong, I have seen some doozies at the gym. The girls with lace tops; the long, braided pigtails; the knee high argyle socks with the same underwear shorts I'm pretty sure I was forced to wear for high school volleyball. Since when is me sweating and gross at the gym my opportunity to get sexy. You'd be lucky to have me with freshly brushed teeth, let alone looking all hot and desirable. My goal is just not to be the stinky one in the gym.
So needless to say, I passed on the nipped out sports bras. I'll stick with my old school ones that keep everything in place and my unfortunately my sexpot alter ego won't get to come out while I'm sweating and cursing my trainer.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
I don't want to know anything about your peanuts
I do not consider myself to be shy, or prude, or modest for that matter. I can talk about any topic under the sun. I mean, I have a degree to prepare me for these sensitive subjects (does a degree still count even if I haven't used it ever?).
However, nothing has prepared me for the constant and unwavering obsession my 3 year old has with his "peanuts". I should start by saying I always swore I would teach my children the real words for their body parts. But really, how can you not fall in love with the words they come up with themselves. So back to my original point. So he's obsessed with his penis and wants to talk about it constantly. We've worked hard to at least focus his personal attention on it to bath time (mainly in an effort to keep his hand out of his diaper). So bath time is basically his favorite time of day. I like to tell myself it is because he loves to be clean and fresh and splash. I'm pretty sure it is because he gets 15 minutes of uninterrupted time without me telling him to keep his hands out of his pants. So anyways, the other night he asks "Mom, is my peanuts really big?". To say I was speechless is more than an understatement. How the hell do you answer that kind of question?? Those are really the times I wish Big Daddy was in charge of his bath time. So here I am. What do I have to do to get through this stage? I don't want him to feel like curiosity and knowledge of your own body is a bad thing. I don't want him to feel like he's being bad. But for the love, I don't want to have to talk to him about his "peanuts" either. I'd like to be blissfully unaware of its presence. Can't it work that way?
Oh and how completely unfair is it that Baby K is now discovering her lady parts. Every diaper change is like a really absurd hog tie. I somehow must manage to hold her legs and hands, do the typical cleanup, re-diaper and dance a jig to keep her distracted.
Update
Holy crap its been a while. Lots to update
Me and Big Daddy are still here, going strong. We've both decided that the 6 years of marriage and 2 kids (yes 2, told you there were updates) have come with a few too many pounds. So we are trying to live that whole healthy lifestyle. We are doing pretty good, and perhaps we'll talk more about that adventure in coming posts.
So M is 3 now. Hysterical, energetic, brilliant, and a pretty freaking awesome little dude. He challenges up daily (as witnessed by the increased number of gray hairs), but I think he's the coolest 3 year old I know, so I'll keep him.
And now we have added Baby K. Obviously that name won't last much longer. Especially since she's already 1. But she's sweet, and happy, and everyone just loves her. She's got a temper, especially when it comes to food (yeah, she got that from me). I was totally nervous about the prospect of having girl, and despite her recent outbursts, she's amazing. I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love my M. But they both just steal my heart.
So lets try this whole blogging thing again. I'm not sure where it will lead, what this will become, or anything else. But like I said...lets see.
Me and Big Daddy are still here, going strong. We've both decided that the 6 years of marriage and 2 kids (yes 2, told you there were updates) have come with a few too many pounds. So we are trying to live that whole healthy lifestyle. We are doing pretty good, and perhaps we'll talk more about that adventure in coming posts.
So M is 3 now. Hysterical, energetic, brilliant, and a pretty freaking awesome little dude. He challenges up daily (as witnessed by the increased number of gray hairs), but I think he's the coolest 3 year old I know, so I'll keep him.
And now we have added Baby K. Obviously that name won't last much longer. Especially since she's already 1. But she's sweet, and happy, and everyone just loves her. She's got a temper, especially when it comes to food (yeah, she got that from me). I was totally nervous about the prospect of having girl, and despite her recent outbursts, she's amazing. I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love my M. But they both just steal my heart.
So lets try this whole blogging thing again. I'm not sure where it will lead, what this will become, or anything else. But like I said...lets see.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
"That Mom"
It is one of those days. I am "that mom". You know, the one that when you see them in public you can't but help be thankful you aren't them? The one that you wonder who thought it was a good idea to give them a child?
The day started out so well. We went to the library and played and M shared with the other kids, was never grabby, did really well with the baby that was there. As our hour there came to an end he started to get a bit more hyper, and a bit louder. So as any good library patron could ask for, we left before he got destructive or disruptive.
Then I had the bright idea that McDonald's would make a good lunch spot. Well I'll admit that I have not paid much attention to the Playland at the local McD's in many years and so when Matt first lit up at the sight of it, I thought sure, this could be fun. Until we actually went in the room. So forgive me for my ignorance that on a Tuesday at noon there would be a room full of school aged children playing in there. And then M disappeared into the hamster maze. I saw kids go in after him, and come back out, go in again. Still no sign of my toddler. Finally a see him crawl past a portal. Ahh, he'll be out any minute. Nope. He disappears again and this time there is no portal to spy him through. After what seemed like 5 minutes I hear a little cry, "Mamma, Mamma". Thank goodness there was a older few girls who sent him down the slide finally.
When we finally sat down to eat there was not a highchair or booster to be found. If you've never eaten out with a non-restrained toddler, lets just say I don't recommend it.
For those who say toddlers have all this great reasons for the ways they behave. Like for independence, and discovery.
Nope the truth is their sole purpose is to make us look like idiots. Thank God they are so cute and funny a this age.
The day started out so well. We went to the library and played and M shared with the other kids, was never grabby, did really well with the baby that was there. As our hour there came to an end he started to get a bit more hyper, and a bit louder. So as any good library patron could ask for, we left before he got destructive or disruptive.
Then I had the bright idea that McDonald's would make a good lunch spot. Well I'll admit that I have not paid much attention to the Playland at the local McD's in many years and so when Matt first lit up at the sight of it, I thought sure, this could be fun. Until we actually went in the room. So forgive me for my ignorance that on a Tuesday at noon there would be a room full of school aged children playing in there. And then M disappeared into the hamster maze. I saw kids go in after him, and come back out, go in again. Still no sign of my toddler. Finally a see him crawl past a portal. Ahh, he'll be out any minute. Nope. He disappears again and this time there is no portal to spy him through. After what seemed like 5 minutes I hear a little cry, "Mamma, Mamma". Thank goodness there was a older few girls who sent him down the slide finally.
When we finally sat down to eat there was not a highchair or booster to be found. If you've never eaten out with a non-restrained toddler, lets just say I don't recommend it.
For those who say toddlers have all this great reasons for the ways they behave. Like for independence, and discovery.
Nope the truth is their sole purpose is to make us look like idiots. Thank God they are so cute and funny a this age.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Dear M #1
Dear M,
I often times think of things I wish I'd remember to tell you as you grow up but know I'll never remember when you get older (I mean really, I can't remember where I put my keys most of the time). So I figured I could keep track of all those bits of wisdom I think you should know. Now sure, there are hundreds (if not more) sites that already do these sorts of letters, but this will be different because you know me, and it's about you.
So for this first letter I want to share with you my most important rule for life.
Never forget to tell someone you love them every chance you get.
It is that simple. Or so it seems. There will be times you will be angry or busy or distracted or maybe just wanting to hurt someone as much as you feel they've hurt you. And the last thing you will every want to say to them is that you love them. I know, I've been there. When I was a girl I was very mad at my dad because he wasn't ever there. I didn't get to see him for months at a time, he rarely called. I felt like he had left me behind. I was angry and hurt and I wanted him to know it. So when he called me one time I didn't want to talk to him, and when he told me he loved me I ignored him and quickly got off the phone. He died a few months later and I never got to tell him again that I loved him, even if I was still mad.
I don't want you to ever have to feel that regret.
If there are people you love, let them know. There are days that I am tired, and frustrated, and my patience is almost gone. Know that in those moments I still love you more than I can express in a blog post years before you can read it. I will always love who you are, and I can't wait to watch you grow and learn to love those around you as well.
I often times think of things I wish I'd remember to tell you as you grow up but know I'll never remember when you get older (I mean really, I can't remember where I put my keys most of the time). So I figured I could keep track of all those bits of wisdom I think you should know. Now sure, there are hundreds (if not more) sites that already do these sorts of letters, but this will be different because you know me, and it's about you.
So for this first letter I want to share with you my most important rule for life.
Never forget to tell someone you love them every chance you get.
It is that simple. Or so it seems. There will be times you will be angry or busy or distracted or maybe just wanting to hurt someone as much as you feel they've hurt you. And the last thing you will every want to say to them is that you love them. I know, I've been there. When I was a girl I was very mad at my dad because he wasn't ever there. I didn't get to see him for months at a time, he rarely called. I felt like he had left me behind. I was angry and hurt and I wanted him to know it. So when he called me one time I didn't want to talk to him, and when he told me he loved me I ignored him and quickly got off the phone. He died a few months later and I never got to tell him again that I loved him, even if I was still mad.
I don't want you to ever have to feel that regret.
If there are people you love, let them know. There are days that I am tired, and frustrated, and my patience is almost gone. Know that in those moments I still love you more than I can express in a blog post years before you can read it. I will always love who you are, and I can't wait to watch you grow and learn to love those around you as well.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Let's Get Physical
So Big Daddy and I joined a gym. I've been 3 times so far, which I'm pretty proud of. I've learned from previous failed gym memberships that I have not come close to getting in a habit and I have a ways to go before this becomes another great waste of money.
How was it in my younger days I could work out 5-7 days a week and never used the "I'm tired" excuse? Now I go and just feel lost. I mean I know how to use most of the machines but I feel like one of those gym virgins who just wanders from place to place hoping to not look like a loser. I'm constantly trying to find the time when no one is there. Where did my workout confidence go?
I've thought about getting a session with a personal trainer, but I had a few sessions with one when I was first pregnant with M. I think I know what I need to do. I just need to actually get on the ball and get aggressive. I hate that I don't recognize my body anymore. I hate that I'm not proud of how I look anymore. I hate that I'm falling victim to the cultural expectation that women must be a size 2 to be beautiful. I hate that to get back to where I was two years ago I'd have to eat nothing but celery and Tic Tacs.
So I've been thinking that someday I'm actually going to have to put this blog out for public scrutiny. I mean, obviously it's public. But I may have to actually let people know it's out here. Otherwise why am I writing it? Though sometimes I just like getting all the jumbled mess out of my head.
How was it in my younger days I could work out 5-7 days a week and never used the "I'm tired" excuse? Now I go and just feel lost. I mean I know how to use most of the machines but I feel like one of those gym virgins who just wanders from place to place hoping to not look like a loser. I'm constantly trying to find the time when no one is there. Where did my workout confidence go?
I've thought about getting a session with a personal trainer, but I had a few sessions with one when I was first pregnant with M. I think I know what I need to do. I just need to actually get on the ball and get aggressive. I hate that I don't recognize my body anymore. I hate that I'm not proud of how I look anymore. I hate that I'm falling victim to the cultural expectation that women must be a size 2 to be beautiful. I hate that to get back to where I was two years ago I'd have to eat nothing but celery and Tic Tacs.
So I've been thinking that someday I'm actually going to have to put this blog out for public scrutiny. I mean, obviously it's public. But I may have to actually let people know it's out here. Otherwise why am I writing it? Though sometimes I just like getting all the jumbled mess out of my head.
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