Dedicated to the One I Love

This post is dedicated to Timber Creek Organic's, Myron Crockett, everyone sitting at our table during Sunday's potluck, and, new Beaver friend, Riki.

"Mom! More brussel sprouts, please!"

Guess who said that.

Come on.

Try harder.

I'm trying to make this a participatory post.

We got brussels sprouts in our Timber Creek order two weeks in a row. Myron can't stand them, so Alyssa makes sure they go to my box when we divide the goods. Then there was that full table of witnesses to Zane's most recent eating habits during this Sunday's church potluck . Habits which consisted of maybe a bite of fried chicken, a carrot or two, and then anything chocolate that wasn't nailed down. See, Zane tends to go hog wild at these events since the only sweet I keep in the house nowadays is Nutella.

And Riki. New friend Riki, whose love affair with brussels sprouts may just border on obsessive. She's a pusher. I'm certain of it. Don't be surprised if you find me sneaking around her place in the dead of night looking for a brussels sprouts fix when I relocate to Beaver, as I am now hooked on the little green yummies - especially when roasted and crunchy.

Same with Zane.

I know it's hard to believe, but picture my boy at the dinner table this evening. One hand clutching a drumstick (and actually eating it). The other wielding a fork with a tiny crunchy sprout of God's Green Goodness speared to the end.

Down it went.

"Mom! More brussel sprouts please!"

Kale for Harper.

Brussels sprouts for Zane.

Fried chicken, pizza, buffalo wings, ice cream, and popcorn for their stressed out mama who while prayerfully waiting for God to sell this house is eating everything in sight.

Brussels sprouts included. To my credit.

I Never Thought I'd Hear . . .

"Mom! Would you PLEASE stop eating MY kale!"

Um, ok, Harper.

Who would have ever thunk it????

And yes, Zane did eat his also.

Only his was wrapped in bacon.

We may eat more vegetables since receiving our vegetable box every week, but, just to be clear, I never claimed to be a vegetarian house.

Mmmm. Kale.

Mmmm. Bacon.

Mmmm. Kale wrapped in bacon.

I'm afraid my vegan, kale worshipping friend, Andrew, may. have. a. cow.

But, he'll never eat one.

Their Appetites are Bountiful

Uh-oh.

Fruit and vegetables delivered last Friday.

It is now Monday and we have 1 more orange, 3 more apples, 3 pears, and banana's.

My family goes through fruit like I go through coffee. This could prove problematic.

Although the solution may be found in supplementing with one more bag of apples.

The amount of vegetables seems about right. We popped an onion and green bell pepper into a fantastic chili yesterday. I've chopped up all the lettuce for salads, and tonight, those brussels sprouts will adorn our dinner plates. We still have a head of cauliflower and tomatoes for my salads.

But the fruit?

Quickly disappearing like a pot of joe on a Monday morning when Mommy is taking a personal day to chill from yesterday's stress and to straighten our soon-to-be-up-for-sale-house.

Nearly empty.

The Harvest is Bountiful

Oh. My. Word.

Today I received my first order of vegetables and fruit from Timber Creek Farms. Having made a deal with my girlfriend to split the Farmer's Market Box every week, I was excited to meet up with her to divvy up the goods.

Oh. My. Word.

Let me try and list the inventory of fresh, organic, vegetables and fruits now sitting in my kitchen. Keep in mind that these items are organic, and that the total cost for these items came to $25.00.

Bananas (5)
Apples (6)
Pears (3)
Oranges. HUGE. Oranges (10)
Full head of romaine
Full head of green leaf lettuce
Brussels Sprouts (before you hurl, I have an incredible recipe coming my way for these)
Celery (Zane loved this with peanut butter and nutella today)
Head of cauliflower
Tomatoes (2)
Garlic
Onion

I can see needing more apples, as Harper is an apple fanatic. And she also loves cuties - so I'll have to sell her on oranges. I may have to pick up some baby carrots also, although Zane loved the celery today. Time to try new things, right?

Compare the above to what I purchased last week for $25.70.

Grapes (2.67 lb. Half of which went sour because we didn't eat them fast enough)
Red Bell Pepper (2)
Box of Cuties
Baby Carrots (2 lb bag)
Granny Smith apples, organic (one bag)

Quite interesting . . .

And it's not even Thrifty Thursday!

Frugal Friday?

The Atkins Fight Back

We are fighting the dark side.

The car.

Humana.

But it's not the actual situations that fatigue me. Things break down all the time. There are always bills to pay. I'm not one to expect smooth sailing. And while I'm not altogether stressed about the actual situations themselves, as I believe that ultimately they will be repaired, I must be honest and say that I awoke feeling low this morning over the prospect of the time it takes to remedy situations such as these.

I'm straight-up done putting any more energy into the car and Humana.

See, what is wearing me down is the time I've already given and will have to continue to give to these issues.

Waiting an hour for a tow. Getting the car home. Getting the car towed back to our mechanic on Monday morning. Reworking Harper's ride for school on Monday. Figuring out how I am to get to work, and Zane to school, on Monday since George needs to be on a train at 7:00 AM to head downtown for his ordination class. Finding a replacement vehicle (although, props to Angie, who has offered me a car). It's the mental gymnastics that I have come to abhor. The mental gymnastics that I must endure due to someone else's mistake . . . yeah, I know, that sounds really self-centered. But, it's true.

The car was not repaired correctly back in July. That was 6 months ago. Humana has been jacking me around since February. February. You do the math.

It's the phone calls to Humana (that average 45 minutes a call) in the middle of the day - at least once a week, each time receiving different and contradictory reasons as to why my claims are denied every time I call. No wonder we mothers also give birth to the ability to multitask when we deliver children into the world. Do you really think we wear those telephone headsets around the house to look cool or because we secretly harbor the desire to look like Madonna in concert? No, we wear them so that we can actually prep dinner, put laundry away, and straighten a bathroom, all while staying on hold with Humana.

It's hard when you feel that your time is being taken from you . . . sure, I understand that we all waste time. I am a huge time-waster. But, with these situations I feel as if my time is being taken from me and I have no choice but to continue fighting back. And I'm tired of fighting back. I just want to move on.

We're home bound today and the kids are doing marvelously. Thankfully. They spent the morning playing Star Wars - not on Wii - no, they actually played Star Wars. Harper was Darth Vader. Zane, Bobafett. A snip-it of the dialogue went something like this:

"Bring me Obi One and the young Luke Skywalker. I want them brought back here alive!"

"What about-"

"Don't interrupt me! Find the droids and kill them, but bring me the jet pack (?). Also, Jabba. I want him brought here alive."

Zane did as he was told and I found him in the family room attempting to lift an imaginary Jabba to bring back to Lord Vader. He was grunting. Jabba is quite large. And slimy.

They also played Peter Pan.

They are being rewarded with The Empire Strikes Back.

I did a Peapod Order. If I'm able to get a car today then I can always cancel it and run to the store. However, it is nice to think about someone delivering my groceries to me before 8:00 am tomorrow morning, even with the added expense. An expense we don't have. No, it's not the cheapest choice. But it is a time saver to be sure.

And right now, I want my time.

No Extra Credit for Aldi

"Wait!"

I can hear you warning me.

"Be careful about what you blog! As the most current company with whom you have taken issue may find the post and call you out on it, and ask you to remove it, and then you'll have to grapple with your convictions about forgiveness and reconciliation and relationships, and, well, you know, all that stuff that you struggled with the last time this happened."

But, reader, this time, my gripe is not with a local business concerned about retaining their reputation so that they can actually remain in business in this awful economy, but rather a large international company, that doesn't offer one the ability to even call a customer service number to share comments and complaints. Seriously, I've combed their website. I can write in, as in U.S. Postal Service write in, but email, phone call, fax? Nada. Nope.

Aldi's prices are cheap because they sell "off" brands of many goods, (although one can also pick up Tyson chicken as well - antibiotic free even), do not offer free bags (I bring my own), or free carts (one needs a quarter to borrow a cart), nor do they take credit cards or personal checks. Cash? Yes. Debit cards? Yes . . . er, well . . .

Debit?

Debit?

Debit?

Yes, unless their machine can not read the customer's card.

And so there I stood, after shopping for 45 minutes with two kids, staring down a really long line of customers, (isn't that always the case when there is trouble at the register), and a full cart of groceries waiting to be bagged, only to find that the machine wouldn't read my debit card. My debit card which I had just used in another store. My debit card. The only way I could pay for my groceries at Aldi.

To his credit the cashier did attempt the old "wrap the card in a plastic bag and swipe" method.

Nothing.

"Can you just enter it manually?"

"No. It's illegal for me to enter it manually."

Illegal?

As in, against the law?

Ok, I'm no law enforcement officer, or lawyer, and perhaps in this day and age of identity theft, there could be a small sliver of truth to this statement, but isn't that why a cashier would then call a manager? To get "Manager Approval" or "Override" or whatever the term is that allows at least one employee to enter a number into the system so that a purchase can be made?

Apparently not. He turned and started ringing up the next customer.

So we turned to leave.

But not before Harper got her quarter back from the shopping cart rental. She wasn't leaving without it.

I guess Aldi did stand up their promise of saving me money, as the $90 allotted for groceries is still sitting in my checkbook.

But I'm pretty hungry.

Feeling Flushed

I finished the 21 day "flush" or "detox" or "purge" or "cleanse", depending on what you prefer to call it, on Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving weekend I drank coffee, (not the enormous amounts of which I was used to prior to the program), had cheese and crackers, ate stuffing, pie, etc. The regular Thanksgiving fare.

I didn't feel horrible afterwards, but I certainly didn't feel as great as I had over the prior 21 days. I don't think the occasional indulgence at the holidays is going to be retired altogether, but I will definitely be taking steps to watch the overload of dairy, gluten, and sugar, on a weekly basis. I do not have an allergy, which is good, but I do have a sensitivity, and my body is just happier without those pesky items.

I'm down to one or maybe two cups of coffee a day, and a ton of herbal tea. I love green tea with mango.

My head is clear. Not just the brain - but the sinuses also.

I'm able to multi-task with energy. A must for any mom to be sure, and yet, it's changed from a frantic, whirlwind, tumbleweed on speed pace, during which I forget things, misplace things, and even bump into things, to a calmer, manageable flow that doesn't leave me completely whipped and exhausted at the end of the day. I am accomplishing more and wasting less time.

My children say I am goofier and more fun.

*WARNING! LOVESHACK TALK*

George has experienced other perks.

*I WARNED YOU!*

The laundry still isn't done, but everything else is smooth.

I feel really good. 21 days took 7 pounds off my frame, got me used to eating more fruits and vegetables then I've ever eaten, has me experimenting with making my own salad dressings, introduced me to Larabar, helped me to habitually take a multi-vitamin and omega-3 oils daily, and . . . has my husband asking if he thinks that coming off of dairy would be a good thing for all of us. Even Zane, I fear, has a problem digesting milk. How do I know? Trust me.

Our grocery bill has increased . . . unfortunately buying fresher and more often can do this. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

I recently found out that I can use the walking track at Weber in Skokie without being a member of their workout facility. This, my friends, is the next step. Why I didn't know this before last week drives me crazy. Never would have bought (only to sell) the elliptical had I known I could walk/run indoors for free all along.

This was definitely the kick in the pants that I needed to jump start me to a new way of eating, thinking about eating, shopping, and preparing meals.

And as for any concern I had about seeing a chiropractor? My chronic neck and upper back pain has not reared itself since this entire process began. I didn't buy a fancy new pillow or a new office chair. No new contraptions for the neck. I have been getting adjustments every week - cheaper than a weekly massage - since, well, he's treating me for free. This is the longest I've gone without have some sort of even the tiniest lingering pain.

I'm glad I challenged myself.

Now, I want to learn to cook and bake with more whole foods . . . bought some fresh small artichokes this week. Anyone have a good recipe for them?

21 Days

This used to be me.

Ok, maybe I'm stretching the "used to be". It's only been 3 days.

I'm not convinced that I'll be completely giving up my literal cuppa joe after my 21 day dietary detox comes to an end, but I may have to adjust the amount I drink every day.

So, for the next 18 days just refer to me as Cuppa Tea.

How is it going?

Glad you asked.

Day One: I was plagued by a day long headache which felt as if an anvil had been dropped on my head and someone was proceeding to pound on the anvil with a jackhammer. Yeah. It was bad. Dizzy. Light headed. Foggy. The feelings you would expect to experience while on a starvation diet. Funny thing was, I was eating every 3 hours. The program allows me GREAT food. Whole foods. No processed junk. Plus, no gluten, no dairy, no sugar, and no coffee. So, just imagine this bagel buying, cheese chewing, sugar salivating, coffee craver going cold turkey (I can eat cold turkey). Not even delicious fresh fruit smoothies, steel cut oatmeal (yummy), amazing salads with tons of veggies and chicken, plus snacks, helped. This was an immediate clue to the fact that my dietary habits have been affecting me more than I have realized. Afterall, shouldn't healthy whole foods make one feel good? Well, yes. But, for me, on Day One, they didn't. Popped the Advil and thought to myself, "I can't do this."

I am also using some supplements grown on an organic farm up in Wisconsin that uses their vegetables to make supplements. I use their shake powder (who knew that brussel sprouts and collard greens could end up in a smoothie powder), extra fiber tablets, and next week, will begin taking a whole food supplement.

Day Two: Woke up feeling FULL of energy. Got up at 6:15 to make my very large breakfast which consisted of a shake, with the supplement powder as the base, and a banana, blueberries, strawberries, and flax seed oil. Also had a hard-boiled egg and steel cut oatmeal. Seriously, breakfast prior to Friday's start had always been a cup of coffee and some bacon. Got through the day just fine. No headaches. I really do enjoy making "garbage" salads for lunch: salads with every chunky veggie one can find, plus lean protein. I'm also making my own dressing. Olive oil, balsamic, spices. Can't wait to experiment with grapeseed oil, lemon, or apple cider vinegar. I have ideas. And making my own dressing is so much cheaper! Dinner? George made a chicken in our clay pot (we LOVE our clay pot) and I made sure to eat just the white meat with some broccoli and red bell pepper on the side.

As a result, guess who are also eating more vegetables? Hint, one uses Nutella.

Day Three: This was the day that would really show whether I was truly feeling better or just feeling a placebo effect. I led worship this morning and had to be at church by 8:00, ready to rehearse and sing for two services. I was up early and feeling fantastic. I had a huge breakfast and found that I wasn't even hungry until around 1:00 when we arrived home from the morning. The other interesting development is that I felt less congested when I awoke - which is rare. I almost always have some nasal/vocal issues in the morning, regardless of whether I have a cold. Not today. I just feel better. And I'm waking more easily - no hungover feeling.

Lunch was my "garbage" salad again (threw in avocado and hard-boiled egg this time) and for dinner I made turkey burgers and veggies. Which reminds me that I need some good recipes for artichokes.

I have also been enjoying a variety of green tea's (the only caffeine I can have) and decaf herbal tea's. That, combined with a little over 64 oz of water day, has me leaping to the rest room more often than normal, but hey, that's all part of detoxing the body, right? Flush it out baby.

My energy level is HIGH. I have been able to handle general household stressers (messy kitchen, the laundry monster, potty training - not myself - I make it to the bathroom just fine) with more ease. George is wondering who has invaded my body to motivate me to actually fill and empty the dishwasher.

Fuzzy brain? Not so much right now. I'm just handling things better.

It's only Day Three, so I don't see any external changes, but I do, without a doubt feel a difference inside. But I do need to incorporate exercise. George has been great about exercising every morning, so maybe I'll try and join him tomorrow - if I have time - I have alot to eat for breakfast and that may not leave time for working out . . . :)

Before I began this process, I had my weight and fat % checked. It will be interesting to see how this changes as of November 27th. Thanksgiving Day.

How appropriate that my 21st day will be Thanksgiving Day. Did I plan that well, or what?

You Mean It Was This Easy All Along?

Seriously?

Targets?

Nutella?


Zane has been using the potty successfully for about 3 days now, due to a new found love of Target Practice.

I remember reading somewhere that little boys need help with aim. Well, Zane's aim has always been fine. His issue isn't with hitting the target, but rather just wanting to use the target in the first place! Sooooo . . . the other night, as I was gently prodding him to use the potty upon realizing that he was a tad bit wet, I had blinding flash of the obvious.

Throw funny things into the toilet (of the flushable and floatable variety) and turn training into a game.

We've now learned that Cheetos and elbow macaroni float. Zane has a container of targets in each bathroom and can grab one, drop it in, and then go to town. The reward, of course, being Halloween candy.

Duh.

I know that Cheerios are great for this, but Zane doesn't like them, and thus, there is no allure to throw them in. Cheetos and pasta, however? Perfect. I hear there is a product one can buy - shapes that dissolve in the toilet . . . but isn't it so much more fun to find things in the kitchen that can float and be flushed? Complete silliness.

And Nutella. Who knew that Nutella tasted great on carrots, red bell pepper, and other various vegetables? Well, I don't, as I'm on the 21 day detox and thus I didn't even lick the Nutella off the spoon after putting some in a bowl for Zane. But Zane knows. He loved dunking carrots and apples in it today.

Duh.

So, targets . . . good for successful potty adventures.

And, Nutella . . . good for successful vegetable adventures.

And a big Mom DUH!

Countdown to Detox

If you follow my blog, (and thanks if you do), then you know that I am pretty transparent. I have no problem sharing my honest innards. You may find this pretty crazy, or self serving (a need for attention). I find it freeing.

Whatever.

Many of you have also watched the process we've been through with Harper since Kindergarten. You've watched us move through confusion, fear, frustration, evaluation, prognosis, and treatment. She has come out of the entire process with flying colors. In fact, we are now in the stage of giving her "vacations" from medication on the weekends. I've written about how much she has grown in previous posts, so I won't rehash that. Simply put, she's doing great. If you have read everything I've posted about Harper and then happen to meet her for the first time, you might demise that we are delusional regarding her ADHD. Sometimes I even wonder if she is still struggling underneath her incredibly humorous, brilliant, and vivacious outer shell.

You have also watched me, in an attempt to adapt to the happenings of the last two years, leave behind a coaching business, open a home business, communicate my heart and soul through writing, and attempt to regain a "normalcy", only to find that "normalcy" is a fallacy. If we keep hoping for normal, we reject the present blessings that God has given us each day. I trust and believe that "His mercies are new every morning". And yet in my attempts to find strength and power in our "new normalcy", I have struggled abysmally.

Harper has been doing great now for 6 whole months.

I however, have never returned to the optimum health that I lived in 2006.

Eating healthy? No. Consistent exercise? No. Organized house? I know, I know, many of you think it's ridiculous that I would describe myself as disorganized, but I am. Memory loss? Frankly, my short term memory has had some scary little dips. Spiritual life? Actually, pretty good thanks to Moms R Us and singing in the band, but my personal devotion times have been a constant struggle. Fellowship? Yes, but many times I'd rather just stay home. Retreating from getting together with people or leaving behind activities that were once fun? A little. I probably have the lingering effects of a non-diagnosed bit of depression. The days exhaust me. I'm irritable. Impatient. My brain and my body are fatigued.

I will be 40 this year.

Thank you. I don't think I look it either.

I will be 40 this year and I will NOT enter this year in defeat. I will return to optimum health. But, doing so will take a hefty commitment and a change of lifestyle. I need to break out of the terrible habits that were adopted over the last two years.

And thanks to an impromptu comment from a friend of mine - whose comment I truly believe was voiced through the Holy Spirit - I will be embarking on a journey to seek health by unconventional means.

Beginning on Friday, with the help of a new Doctor (a chiropractor/acupuncturist/nutritionist) who has a commitment to treating Pastor's and their families for free, I will be starting a 21 day detox plan to begin purging all the muck I feel inside. What muck?

Little do you know that I wake up feeling "hungover" every morning. Without caffeine I can't get going. Period. I am in a constant fuzzy or scattered state. I have developed chronic neck and upper back pain. My hip joints hurt. Playing anything physical with the kids knocks me out. I am exhausted by 5 or 6 and don't want to leave the house. I have sinus infections and what I believe to be undiagnosed allergies - and I really don't want to resort to merely taking allergy med's, as I think some natural remedies will actually be of more help. I struggle over making healthy meals and end up binge eating. It's like I'm ADD. Seriously. This is no way to live. At least, not for me.

This is not me.

So, I will enter a 21 day detox, during which time I will most likely remove gluten, sugar, and who knows what else. Yep, it's a flush of the entire system. Should be really pretty. I will also be meeting with the Doc weekly for adjustments and stretching.

All free.

It is such a gift. It's unbelievable that my friend even mentioned the guy - as we weren't even talking about health at the time. And it's no surprise, as the Holy Spirit just loves surprising us, that after this conversation came a second similar one with another friend, completely unrelated to the first. She too shared her remarkable results through a 21 day detox program. Maybe unconventional methods are catching.

I am excited. Really excited. I don't feel like me and I need to feel like me again. I think I am most excited to have someone else developing a plan for me rather than attempting to do so myself. I'm a pretty good rule follower and will follow a plan that is handed to me. I do not, however, have the patience to create one for myself.

What can you do to help? Support it. If we're out and about and I refuse to eat or drink something, don't press me with "Oh, come on. One little bite can't hurt." This is not helpful. Just be supportive. I can pig out with you some other time. Hold me accountable. Take it seriously with me.

I'll keep you posted on the results . . .

Caramel Apples Are Good For Families

Wanna guarantee a great after-dinner dialogue between parents and children?

Make caramel apples. It's a long enough process to get everyone involved, and eating them takes time, thus insuring that no one will be darting away from the table in a flash.

Our evening was so good, that seriously, I don't even know where to start here. All I know is that caramel apples, as much as they are just down right horrible for teeth, are fantastic for families.

At least ours.

We spent the second half of the day at home. We needed a day at home. One of those lazy Saturdays where you just hang together. No agenda. Well, other than making caramel apples after dinner, an activity which you keep dangling over the head's of your children as a bribe throughout the day, in order to make the day run smoothly.

After dinner, we began the process. And what we thought would just be a fun family activity turned into one of the best family gatherings around the dinner table that we've had all year.

It began with Zane.

"Mommy! You are sitting next to me! Because you love me!" Zane is all about the love. The saying you love, the showing you love, the hugs, the kisses, the cuddles, the snuggles, the rolling up into a ball and curling up in your lap. It never gets old.

And then, Zane, who is mesmerized by all things four, "because I'm going to be four", begins telling us how when he is big, he will be a doctor.

"When I am big, I will be a doctor. A doctor for children. To make them feel better."

"That's great, Zane! When did you decide to become a doctor when you grow up?"

Zane looks straight at us. His face clearly reveals that he is dead on serious.

"God told me I am going to be a doctor."

Wow.

Things continued. We broke into a spiritual discussion during which Zane basically ingrained in us that Jesus is God and that sin makes Him sad and that He is alive. After he finished preaching we asked the kids how they know that we love them.

Harper responded first. "Because you tell us and hug and kiss us all the time. Too much."

To which Zane jumps in to defend our honor with an emphatic reply, "NO! IT'S NOT TOO MUCH!"

Ok, then.

The evening began to wind to a close by Harper inviting us into her room for a surprise. She had her light pointed at the ceiling as a spotlight and asked us to either sit in the balcony (up on the loft), or on the floor. Zane and I chose the loft. George took the floor. Otherwise, as Harper told us, he would block the spotlight. Such a lighting technician.

And. Then. It. Happened.

Harper busted out into a very well choreographed, "Gettin' Jiggy With It". And I'm telling you, putting all "mommy lovin' her child no matter what" aside, that her moves were in time, very creative, and actually fit the music. She left the room for a moment afterwards at which time George and I had a brief moment to share a "what was that" moment - completely non-verbal. We were in disbelief. The girl can dance. I mean, really. Dance. I told her that taking a hip hop class was kind of like taking a tennis class . . . minus the racquet and balls and net and everything tennis. My point being, that just as she tackled a tennis class where she knew no one, I would help her take a dance class if she had any inkling to do so.

Then Zane pops in again. The doctor who knows God, points at a painting in Harper's room of the feeding of the five thousand and states, "THAT is a God picture".

I have always said that I love my children so much that it hurts.

And tonight, sitting around a dinner table, sharing caramel apples, and just simply talking, reminded us why, every now and then, we just need to be the four of us with anything to do on a Saturday afternoon and evening.

Willy, meet Zane. Zane, meet Willy.

And how do I know that Zane has a bit of a problem with chocolate?

Hmmm? Let's take his after-(non)nap snack for example.

I do allow a cookie or sweet everyday. Nothing extreme. Nothing overboard. Today, I only had mint/chocolate biscotti's. He tried one. He liked it. He practically hissed at me when I suggested he dunk it in milk. That would get the chocolate in the milk! And, oddly enough, Zane doesn't like chocolate milk. Would I seriously suggest that he turn a yummy treat into a chocolate-less, mushy, soggy mess?

Sorry. Must have lost my head for a moment.

And then? When it was all gone? Finished? Traces of chocolate lingering on his face?

He has the nerve to ask for a second.

The answer is no.

Harper suggests an apple. I suggest some crackers. Harper suggests "regular food".

"I DON'T LIKE REGULAR FOOD! I ONLY LIKE CHOCOLATE!"

Um, yeah. We hear you loud and clear, Augustus. Have a great time in the chocolate river, son. We'll meet up with you at the end of the tour.

Food, Glorious Food!

Even though I have lived in the Chicagoland area for 16 years now, it took this most recent trip back to the East Coast to reveal that I have not necessarily developed a sold-out love affair with Chicago delicacies. After pondering this a bit I realized that my "it's ok" attitude towards Chicago eats may be due to my taste buds lacking the nostalgic history of Windy City fare. It's not that I dislike Chicago's famous foods, I dig the hot dogs, and have learned not to drench one in ketchup. However, I didn't grow up salivating over hot dogs or with the culinary knowledge that ketchup is sinful, and thus, the whole idea of the ultimate Chicago hot dog is not really ingrained in my senses. Deep dish pizza? I can take it or leave it. I'll choose a nice thin New York slice over the deep dish any day - even if that means using a napkin to sop up the oil that rests a top that wonderful gooey melted cheese. So, while my taste buds may harbor a crush on Chicago foods, they certainly aren't married to them.

Before I left for my trip to Dallas back in July, I took 4 weeks to return to a way of eating that has always been very effective for my body type. I had just purchased a lovely gown to wear on Seminar awards night, (for a whopping $18 at a second-hand store), and I wasn't about to not fit into it. It was the push I needed to get my eating back under control. And even through my time in Dallas I was very careful not to overindulge. The result being that I felt fantastic.

However, I didn't merely stick to the plan for the sake of that trip. I knew I had a big vacation coming up, and wanted to be in a place where I could really enjoy my favorite East Coast foods without the constant worry that I was overeating and thus ruining all the work I had done. I wanted to be in a good place mentally and physically so that I could eat the foods I love!

For instance, when we head to Cincinnati we hit Montgomery Inn for ribs, Skyline for chili, and Graeter's for ice cream. So, it would only stand to reason that when in Maryland and Pennsylvania there are other favorites that must be consumed!

And, well, consume I did!

I had my fill of my favorites: Chesapeake Bay steamed crabs for one, (or, rather, a dozen), which is the type of meal that makes your mouth sting from the amount of Old Bay seasoning covering each and every one. With chunks of crabmeat, a ton of melted butter and vinegar for dunking, a feast can be had! Note: there is a lot of melted butter and a lot of licking one's fingers. You come out smelling like Old Bay, and everything is a complete mess, (this is definitely not a meal for those who insist upon manners and tidiness at the dinner table), but that's what wet wipes are for. And a trip to the boardwalk is not complete without Thrasher's Fries covered in vinegar - which can only be eaten on the boardwalk. Let's add on some Philly cheesesteak and an icee - which is NOT a slurpee - purchased from a vendor on the street and we've just about had it all.

Back at "home", we've got Nanny's sausage and peppers, eggplant parmigiana, and corn beef and cabbage . . . all in one meal. Yes, all in one meal.

I'm stuffed. I'm just now beginning to come down from my food orgy and will definitely need some detox time when I return home.

And then again, after walking Philadelphia yesterday for 4 hours, I think I've gotten in the amount of exercise needed in order to take on something else. Especially because today we're headed to an exhibit on treehouses. Lot's of climbing involved.

I'm sure I'll be famished afterwards.

Adding Energy to Injury

"Mommy, I want an injury bar."

Energy bar.

"Oh. Injury bar."

En-er-geeeee bar, Zane.

"In-jer-eeeee bar."

Ok, that's fine. Whatever, Zane. Who are you? Have you joined the nutrition police? And are you, the boy who refuses all food, really in a position to judge what your deal 'ole mom eats? Your deal 'ole mom, who resorts to downing energy bars during lunch, rather than preparing a well balanced lunch, because she is too busy trying to prepare a lunch that you will actually eat?

I've offered you yogurt. Cereal. English Muffins. Bacon. Eggs. That's breakfast. I've put together plates of turkey. String Cheese. Carrots. Grapes. How about an apple or a banana. No? We make smoothies and freeze them. You liked them last week! Daddy makes this great tortilla dish. You refuse. And you have the gall to accuse my bars of causing injury? At least I'm eating. Something.

Really, son. If Mommy wants to rip open an energy bar, you should remain quiet. Sure, they are not the most nutritious choice, but they certainly aren't "injury bars". At the very least, they afford me a bit more energy to wander miles around the kitchen hunting for something that you will consume with gladness.

Like, perhaps, an energy bar.

Ding!

Don't knock it until you try it, little man. There could very well be one on your plate tomorrow, as I'm out of ideas.