Science fair

I just finished my portion of Susie's science fair project.

Let that sink in for a moment.

See, these science fair projects are serious business. Last year, Susie and two friends teamed up to do a pretty good experiment (the effects of different liquids on tooth enamel), and they took third place. I'm convinced that they would have taken first if I had been more proactive and helped them more with the graphic design of the project.

This year, Susie has a new partner and a new topic. The two girls chose nutrition as their topic (at my suggestion...after all, I have good resources at work), and their experiment was good: for one week, they ate a typical diet and kept a food diary. For week two, they first planned a "balanced" diet based on the recommendations at www.mypyramid.gov (good stuff there, by the way), then kept a food diary again. The food diary was input (mostly by them, but also by me) into www.my-calorie-counter.com, a good-enough site that calculates calories, fiber, fat, and the like.

My portion of the project involved taking that data and feeding it into an Excel spreadsheet, then creating a zillion graphs depicting the recommended calories, fat grams, etc., comparing them to the actual calories, etc., consumed, then overlaying the percentage above or below the RDA the girls consumed.

I learned something that I didn't tell the girls. True, it's not a scientific sample, but the results played out as I expected. Susie, as a middle-class white kid with post-graduate-school-educated parents, had a pretty darn good diet in her "control" week. Her nutritional intake was very similar in weeks one and two. Her partner, on the other hand, is economically disadvantaged, African American, and has a less-than-stable family situation. I don't know her mother's educational attainment, but I suspect it's minimal based on the contact I've had with her. And this girl's diet? Is a mess. It's almost a textbook diet for how to get heart disease, an epidemic health problem in the lower income African American community. Her sodium intake is generally 2-3 times the recommended daily limit. Her sugar intake is high. Her saturated fat is high. Her fiber consumption is about half of what it should be.

But what's most disturbing about her results is that her intake of "bad" stuff (fat, saturated fat, sodium, sugar) was markedly WORSE during the Food Pyramid week. I'm not sure why. Perhaps her mother was not able to provide a balanced diet that adhered to the eating plan the girls had designed. I know her mother did not understand the plan, because she called me last Sunday evening, after I'd dropped the child off at home, asking me, "What is this mess she just handed me?" The "mess" was her daughter's food chart. I went over the project with her, explaining the experiment and what they were trying to accomplish. I explained portioning and what foods needed to be consumed in what quantities. The family does not have a computer, so I couldn't direct her to a website.

I talked to the girls today about their results as I was creating the charts. I was gentle when I told Susie's friend about the issues in her diet. I explained that she needed to look at product nutritional labels when she and her mom went to the grocery store. And I beat my favorite dead horse. Lunchables? Are the worst thing in the world that kids can eat. Except maybe rat poison.

The girls did a great job writing up their findings. And I'm about to head to the office to print all these beautiful charts (in color), as well as some pages from the food pyramid site. They'll put the whole thing together and (hopefully) win a prize next week.

I hope they learned something. And make changes accordingly. As they wrote in their report, "It's hard not to eat too much salt and sugar."

Unproductive time

I had such lofty goals for my time in Birmingham. I was going to work on my NaNoWriMo book. I was going to work out every day. I was going to venture out to exciting restaurants.

Bet you're dying to know what I've accomplished. Yes?

I've become completely addicted to C.S.I. Specifically, the Las Vegas version.

It began innocently enough. My lovely family dropped me off at the Birmingham airport, and I drove away in my rental car, hotel-bound. We'd just spent the better part of a week together, half the time driving to and from Orlando, Florida. We'd ridden roller coasters and other thrill rides. We'd spent quality time with my parents. We'd braved a rare cold front in the usually-balmy Sunshine State.

I was, sad to say, a little tired upon my arrival to the hotel.

And I switched on the television. I don't know exactly what happened, but I watched most of a pretty lame movie starring J. Lo, then ordered some lovely Chinese food (the only nearby restaurant listed on Delivery.com), and somehow the television found itself on an episode of C.S.I.

Then another.

And another.

Turns out Spike runs FIVE episodes of C.S.I., back to back, on Sundays.

The rest of the week's evenings have been spent in fervent searches for more episodes. I'm telling you, it's like crack.

As a result, I've not ventured far from my hotel room, other than attending the training I'm here for. I've eaten nothing wonderful. All dinners except one have been consumed in my room, in the chair I'm currently occupying, with the television just four feet away.

I found an episode at 7 this evening, but haven't found one at 8, so I'm drooling while watching Jamie Oliver on Iron Chef America. I'm pretty sure E.R. is new at 9, but I know I'll get two more C.S.I. episodes at 10 and 11.

And I'm eating from the same Chinese place. There was a tornado warning this afternoon, and it's still windy and rainy and I didn't feel like going anywhere.

BUT! I did work out as soon as I got back from "work." So that's something, right?

And I've got dinner plans with my "co-workers" next week. On two days!

But I'll be getting "home" early, because I'm a junkie.

(Is it totally horrible that I'm looking forward to getting back here on Sunday night?)

Growing

My children are, by all signs, in the midst of a growth spurt. Normally, they take turns with the growing. My son will almost catch up to his sister's still-superior height, then she'll shoot up, physically proving that she is the big sister and he's the little brother.

We, the parents, are given a bit of warning when the growth spurts are beginning. The child, who normally has a, well, normal appetite, suddenly is starving. Like, tapeworm starving. And sleeps more than normal. A week or two later, pants are outgrown (which, for girls, is okay...long pants can turn into capris until they get tight).

The boy is taller than he was the last time he saw his grandparents, about six weeks ago. And the girl won't. stop. eating. The boy, usually an early riser, has been the last to awaken for the past few days. The girl, who is currently sleeping about a meter from me, looks much more like "woman" than "baby", even in sleep. Which, I suppose, is fitting, since she's chronologically closer to womanhood than infancy.

It's a roller coaster so much more amazing than any we'll ride tomorrow.

In Chicago

The last time I was in Chicago, it was July and lovely and warm. Not so much today. But we made it, and the kids are snuggled up in their beds, and all is well.

I'm kinda tired now, after nine hours on the road followed by a rehearsal dinner, so I'll have to tell you later about how we had lunch at a fireworks outlet. For $15. Total. It was awesome.

But see, I'm so dedicated to NaBloPoMo that I bothered to update, even though we've got a major family milestone going on, plus a mall next flipping door to the hotel.

Gotta go.

An interesting day it was

Friday capped off a very work-intensive week for me. And around noon, I got dessert.

11/9/04 was the date I first interviewed with the Corporation, and also the date I got the job offer that changed me from a banker to what I am now. The job I got was a newly-created position, one that was well-suited to my strengths.

This job has mostly been satisfying. There have been frustrations, of course, but I've never dreaded going to work. And I feel very very good about where I work and what I do there. I know I play a valuable role, and my work is high-quality. I've received public accolades after just a year on the job and was asked to join a professional association's steering committee.

But lately, I've felt like I could do more. And this spring, when I got a new boss, she started seeing that I could do more.

And yesterday, at my annual performance evaluation (which, if you must know, went extremely well), we continued a conversation from the day before. A conversation that included the words "promotion" and "new position" and "manager" and "pay grade increase" and "human resources" and "job description".

Needless to say, it was a good day.

Followed by clocking out a little early to walk to the kids' school, a snack at Bigfoot Lodge, a drive to the 'burbs to drop the kids with their respective sleepover hosts, a trip to Davis-Kidd to treat myself to a new purse, dinner, and some much-appreciated TiVo'd shows.

Just try to get the smile off my face. I dare you.

Miscellaneous

In lieu of a real post, here's a recap of recent happenings.

Susie and I dyed our hair pink on Friday night in preparation for Race for the Cure. Hers looks the same as when we did it before, and mine doesn't look pink. Just brighter red than usual. Nobody even seemed to notice it, which means (a) it's extremely subtle or (b) everyone thinks it looks horrible and they're too nice (or stunned) to say anything.

My extremely impromptu costume for our church's auction fundraiser/Halloween party wound up winning in the "Best Monster" category. And I even got a trophy! Which is an awesome turnaround from the past few years. I was a zombie roller derby girl (but I substituted Doc Martins for rollerskates, because I didn't want to die for real).

But alas, the trophy I truly coveted remains out of my grasp. In the second annual chili smackdown, the chili I worked so hard to perfect (and yes, it was amazing) didn't even place. And the winner? Was the same woman who won last year. My kids, however, won their age division for the pumpkin they decorated. I'll try to get some pictures up later.

There's probably a life lesson in there somewhere about trying too hard and being spontaneous and "in the moment" but I'm mostly slightly bummed that I forgot to take pictures of important stuff this weekend: Race for the Cure, which had tons of great photo moments, the auction, and the prep of the chili, because it would have been great on my other blog. Maybe next year.

And possibly the most (or least) noteworthy event of the weekend: I found my first gray hair yesterday. And the kids laughed.

300

I'm posting this a day early because I think the post I did earlier is painfully boring but I don't feel good about deleting it. So this should push it down the page.

It's my 300th entry, everyone! Which is really a little hard to imagine. Because if I put all my blog posts together now, they would be a book.

I already did the "100 Things About Me" post when I hit 100 posts. Can I possibly do a "300 Things" post? Would I just add 200 more things to the 100 things post? Would anyone read it? Can I even think of 300 things to put on a list? Maybe I could list 300 people I like. And maybe some of my readers would see themselves listed. Ew. That sounds horrible. 300 songs I like? I could do that...my MP3 player is right next to me. No. I don't know.

Hey, I've got it. Since I'm currently keeping a food diary, which means I'm obsessively calorie counting, how about a list of 300 calorie things I'd like to eat. This list isn't likely to reach 300 items. Because that would really be gross. Keep in mind that for me, it takes 30 minutes on the elliptical to burn 300 calories. And I have been known to ask myself before eating something whether it's worth 30 minutes. And I often say no.

1. 60 grams of Cheez-Its.
2. A regular size candy bar
3. One Egg McMuffin (seriously!)
4. One grande size Latte from Starbuck's (whole milk)
5. Five Nutter Butter cookies
6. Two beers (heck, with the right beer, it might just be one)
7. 1 slice pepperoni pizza
8. HALF a SMALL chocolate malt from Dairy Queen (OH MY GOODNESS THAT'S SCARY)
9. Three ounces of brie
10. Three slices of French bread

That's quite enough, right? Feeling guilty, depressed? Because, seriously, I could easily consume all that in a day. And still be very, very hungry afterward. But I would have just consumed 3000 calories, about twice as many as I should for my weight and build.

Which is why I'm doing this food diary in the first place. I talked to another trainer from the gym yesterday (a woman), bemoaning the fact that I've been working out for two months and haven't lost a single pound. She immediatly suspected food was the problem. I consider myself to be a pretty reasonable eater...I don't gorge on sweets or junk food and hardly ever eat fast food. I do splurge here and there, especially at certain times of the month, but I usually "pay it back" at the gym.

But that list just made me think. Those "big ticket" items, like the ones I just listed, do squeak in. 60 grams of Cheez-Its is more than a serving, but how many people just eat one serving? Come on. Admit it. Most of us eat them out of the box and definitely aren't counting to 27 crackers then putting them away. I think I might be eating a few more (meaning 500 or so) calories per day than I've been thinking. And 500 calories a day is 3500 calories per week, which is a pound. Interesting.

I'm starting to see the lure of the new 100-calorie packs of snack foods.

One of those days

Yesterday was a day that just worked. I had a list of things that needed to be done and they all got done. None of the items daunted me, to be fair, but it's still a good feeling to look at that list and see everything checked off.

Before noon, I had gone to the gym and burned 350 calories, traveling 3.5 miles without actually going anywhere, interviewed a new client, loaded six bags of old clothes into the van to drop off at Goodwill, and done a few loads of laundry, and the children had cleaned their rooms and the playroom. By five, the family had gone to midtown to purchase a gift, sell some books at Burke's ($30 store credit! Sweet!), picked up the Sunday School curriculum I would need to teach Sunday School the following day, purchased a few groceries for the evening's dinner with friends, bought the WD-40 I'd been meaning to buy for, um, six months, and picked up my prescription, all without whining or gnashing of teeth.

And by six, all our hinges were silent, once Susie noticed what I was doing (I only sprayed the front and side doors, which were quite noisy, but she grabbed the bull by the horns and de-squeaked every other door hinge in the house), the salad was made, bread sliced, and friends had arrived with food (he's a former chef), a board game for the adults, and their son to entertain the children.

Yes, it's nice when it all works. When the house is clean and the laundry's done and the food is good and the company is just as good, with laughter and conversation and nothing to worry about.

Today stretches ahead of me, with another list of tasks to accomplish. While the agenda doesn't include another game night with friends, I can still aim to make this another one of those days, a day in which things get done with grace and laughter. The upcoming week looms, and I want to make the weekend count.

Blah blah fitness blah blah cardio

I did something new yesterday. I joined a gym.

Which is definitely a change in pace.

But I think it's a necessary change. Despite eating relatively healthy and walking to work, things in my physical manifestation are not as great as they could be. The belly never quite recovered from carrying an 8 1/2 pound baby and then, less than two years later, a 10 pounder. I did zillions of sit-ups after the first baby but never saw a change, and really didn't try after the second.

We took the tour yesterday, and it was intimidating. Our tour guide was huge and very buff and looked like he'd been that way his whole life. And while Craig has lost an amazing amount of weight (he's down 8 inches in his waist size), and I'm naturally pretty thin, neither of us has lifted weights since high school. The machines looked more like medieval torture devices than anything else to me, and I really haven't a clue how to use most of them.

Craig perked up when he learned about the spinning class. The area where the class is conducted is dark, with groovy Christmas lights and stuff. So that's going to be the first class we take. I'm already comfortable with yoga, but will start with the beginner-level class because I'm rusty. There's also a boot camp class that I think would be hilarious, but Craig has no interest.

So now I'm waiting to get a call to schedule my fitness assessment so the fitness professional can help me (a) figure out what I want/need to accomplish, (b) how to accomplish those goals, and (c) learn how to work the machines. Until that happens, I have a feeling that all I'll be doing is the elliptical machine (it's pretty self-explanatory) and classes.

And, yeah, I'm a little nervous about it.

I don't think it's body issues that are making me nervous. Honestly, I feel pretty good inside my skin. True, I don't weigh 110 anymore, but I'm okay with my curves. But I really don't like not knowing how to do things, and all those machines are absolutely foreign to me. When I was in high school, I got pretty serious about circuit weights for several months, at the Y in our small Wyoming town. I knew how to work the machines and I enjoyed seeing my progress. But that weight room was about the size of my living room, with about ten machines, so mastering that circuit was not at all difficult.

Now I'm faced with two stories of machines, none of which looked particularly familiar. And none of the people in the room looked familiar, either. Which means I'm totally dragging Craig along when I go, at least for the first few weeks. If I'm going to be in a strange and unfamiliar world, I need a buddy who is just as uncomfortable as I am.

Oh, here's the good news. There's a liquor store across the street from the gym.

Deadbeat Blogger

Not so much with the updating here. I plead work overload, holiday, then travel. I'm currently blogging from a hotel room in West Virginia. It's unreasonably early, but I'm generally plagued with non-sleep when I'm not in my own bed. And having changed time zones hasn't helped at all.

We left Memphis, the kids and I, at 10:00 a.m. on July 5. Our intent was simply to get more than halfway to our destination of Shepherdstown, WV. The kids were, all in all, agreeable travel companions. Our rental car, a Mitsubishi Lancer, is small but not tiny, and sips gasoline so much less than our van that I estimate our cost savings in gasoline consumed almost covers the cost of the rental. All told, I think renting the car, this time, had an actual cost of $20 once I factor the gas savings. Wear and tear probably makes up at least another $20, so it's a cost-neutral prospect. File that fact away for future travel.

We spent the first night in Bristol. It had rained a bit shortly before we checked in to the hotel, but we would not be daunted in the kids' desire to swim. In the outdoor pool. Which was cold. The swimming adventure was cut short when the kids realized that they don't like to swim without goggles, and the goggles were safely at home in the hall closed. I also learned that it's best to avoid asking the children to choose between breadsticks and cheese bread from Domino's. Because each child has a strong preference for one or the other. And they don't agree. I decided on cheese bread because it has much more fat and calories. Guess what: they both ate it.

Yesterday's leg of the drive was shorter, though a bit more difficult. The majority of my long road trip driving experience is Memphis to Detroit. I can do that drive blindfolded with one arm tied behind my back. It's mostly straight, and almost entirely flat. Interesting? Not really. But very, very easy.

This drive, however, was through the hilly country of Virginia. Traffic was a bit tighter (probably because of the holiday we just had), and the wee car I was driving definitely only has four cylinders. I insisted upon a break around 11 a.m. (Denny's!) (clean plates all around!) (bacon!), and we arrived at the hotel within a few minutes of my parents, around 2 p.m.

Another round in a cold, outdoor pool (very cold!), then a quick trip to the nearby Dairy Queen and drugstore (hey! goggles on sale! with snorkles!), then on to the rehearsal dinner. Because my cousin's daughter is getting married.

I'm not from a close-knit family with frequent visits to see cousins. Outside my parents, brother, and grandmother, I almost never see people I'm related to. The last time I saw my cousins was at my brother's first wedding. That was eight years ago. Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd recognize the bride, since she'd been a young teenager back then.

No worries - I picked her out of the group immediately. And recognized everyone else as well.

At the dinner, we (Mom, Dad, the kids, and I) wound up sitting with some of the groomsmen. The one sitting next to Susie was a live wire. The rest of this entry will be a recap of his antics, with one comment. I can't wait to see what he'll do today.

When the waiter came around to pour wine, he offered each of us red (merlot) or white (chardonnay). Dude chose "both" and the waiter, being a good sport, poured half a pour of white, then half a pour of red into his glass. Dude drank it (slowly). I think he's a beer drinker. Probably from a funnel.

My son was the recipient of a plate of chicken tenders (pretty obviously the Sysco brand that are served at most places, including where I work) and fries. Dude saw his plate and told the waitress that he really wanted that, not the "fancy" food everyone else was being served. Once the waitress stopped laughing, she realized he was serious and it was done.

Dropped multiple "F" bombs. With a ten year old sitting next to him. (In all fairness, he apologized profusely.)

After giving us his life story (my mom simply had asked where he lived), shared with our table, and the tri-state region, that his IQ is 128. (My dad high-fived me when I mentioned that my daughter and he had something in common.)

There's one at every party, right? When I called Craig last night I told him the tale, and the wine mixing was his favorite bit. He's pretty sure that he could be best friends with Dude.

So, wedding this afternoon. Tomorrow I abandon my children in West Virginia, confident that my parents will do as good a job raising them for the next three weeks as they did with me.

It's official

The kids aren't little.

Yeah, I already knew that. I mean, Susie is almost my height and she sometimes borrows my clothes and we wear each other's flip flops. And Alex is catching up, fast. I get it. They're bigger. And they read books and can surf the 'net and play video games and even get their own cereal. Yeah. They're big.

But it sometimes takes a smack upside the head for me to comprehend it.

Which takes us to Saturday. After my rehearsal, we piled into the family car and drove to Oxford, Mississippi, a charming college town about 90 minutes away. Because we've gone to Oxford almost every April for their arts festival. Because it's fun, and there are great activities for kids.

You see where this is going, right?

Petting zoo? No thanks.
Moon bounce? No thanks.
Face painting? No thanks.
Free moon pies? (SERIOUSLY!!) No thanks.

But, on the other hand, they're definitely not adults.

Look at the neat art in this booth? No thanks.
In this one? No thanks.
What about pottery? No thanks.
Metal yard art? No thanks.
Photographs? No thanks.
Listen to the band playing? No thanks.

But the bookstores? Sure! And then when we wouldn't buy $50 worth of books for them, we got sulking with a heaping helping of whining on the side.

All I can say is this: Thank God for Mexican food. The little place we found, in a strip mall, filled the bill nicely. And saved the day from being a complete disaster.

The driving, however, was lovely each way. The trip from Memphis to Oxford, if you avoid the big interstate, is pretty. You drive southeast to Holly Springs, then change roads to a two-lane road to Oxford. The roads are in relatively good shape and lined by trees, punctuated by a small house or two. And with a book of Mad Libs, we all stayed entertained and in good spirits both directions.

I think we'll skip the festival next year and just take a trip to Oxford some other weekend, with money budgeted for book buying and Mexican food. Because that works.

If I Had Been on the Titanic, I Would've Sunk Like a Rock

Last night, my lovely and delightful and gorgeous and amazing and smart and witty friend Carolyn took me, and two other ladies, to the most fabulous event. A recreation of the final meal served to first-class passengers aboard the Titanic. Yes, my friends, I'm a dress size larger today than when I awoke yesterday.

What the menu (linked above) does not mention is the wine pairings. We opted not to have wine with every course (because, hello!, I had to drive myself home, and cab fare from Germantown to Downtown would have been more than the dinner!), but we definitely had our share. A lovely pinot grigio with the salmon. A very nice Cabernet with the filet. And a fabulous pinot noir with the duckling. Oh, and did I mention the kir royale before we started? No? Yes, very nice.

Instead of boring you with details of our waiter, Nick, and our merciless taunting of him, or the reporter for the Germantown News who was doing her "Molly Brown" impression all night, or the fascinating conversation the four of us enjoyed for four hours, I'll regale you with slightly blurry pictures of plates of food.


Carolyn, waiter Nick, and Jennifer. Jennifer is Carolyn's friend from Nashville, and she's hilarious, intense, very smart, and hot! Doesn't she look amazing in that dress?


Canapes a l'Admiral - toast with shrimp and caviar. Very nice. My son got all swoony when I mentioned caviar. Because every eight-year-old boy should love caviar, right?


Consomme Olga. I was tempted to pick up my bowl and drink every drop, but I thought that might be a little tacky.


Poached Salmon with Mousseline Sauce. Ate. Every. Bite.


Chicken Lyonnaise. I didn't love this one and ate only a few bites. Because I knew what was coming next.


Filet Mignon Lili. Can I have another? And another? Because I could eat that for the next ten years, for every meal, and probably still want more. Plate-licking good. (Don't worry, Mom, I didn't really lick the plate. But I wanted to.)


Calvados Glazed Roast Duckling with Apple Sauce. Divine. And all in my stomach. Glad I didn't wear a girdle.


Asparagus Salad with Champagne-Saffron Vinaigrette. Loved it. Perfect.

By this point we were a little punchy, so when we ordered our cognac and brandy, we requested four straws. Because we liked hazing sweet Nick so much. And then Jennifer set up a food stylist's dream:


And we made Merilynn get super-festive.


Then dessert was served. Good thing, because we might have eaten that rose.


Waldorf Pudding, which had fruit and nuts and creme fraiche. Very nice. And look, Mom! I'm a member of.....


The Clean Plate Club!!!

I'm sure I'll post more later, but right now I can say that I'm not a bit hungry. And I'm a little tired. Because I'm not really equipped to eat for four hours and then get up six hours later.

Reaping what we sow

When your New Year's Eve looks like this:

From New Year's Eve

From New Year's Eve

From New Year's Eve

From New Year's Eve

From New Year's Eve

From New Year's Eve

From New Year's Eve

From New Year's Eve

From New Year's Eve

Don't be surprised when your New Year's Day looks like this:

From New Year's Day

From New Year's Day

From New Year's Day

Even the dogs look hung over.

We had a great time eating sushi with our friends and their adorable kids. And then we enjoyed ourselves, ahem, maybe a bit too much after we got home. But I did manage to cook a traditional New Year's Day dinner today (pork, greens, black-eyed peas, carrot/sweet potato casserole, spoon bread). And I wore? Pajamas.

Good times.

Holiday fun part one

Posting from the hotel in Michigan's exercise room. No, I'm not multi-tasking that effectively. I'm keeping The Husband company while he works his butt off on the treadmill. However, he's using his new Ipod (his birthday gift from me) and doesn't seem to need much company. I actually think I'm here because if two people are in here, another person is less likely to join him on the machines. So I'm here to psych people out and scare them away. Which, if you could see my hair right now, wouldn't be a stretch.

The family holiday visit is going well thus far, with the only glitch being that The Boy and Susie both have fevers again. The Boy radiated heat yesterday and I took his temperature....101.8. Susie followed suit later, at 100.7. We medicated them both and decided to carry on with our family's plan for the Best Christmas Gift Ever. Since the folks don't want gifts, my mother suggested that Lil Bro and I take the fam out to a fancy dinner. And we went last night. Oh. My. Heavens. Two and a half hours later, we waddled/staggered back out to the cold where the handsome man smartly gave our car keys to The Husband, as I had consumed enough wine to have become a cautionary tale.

The evening's highlights included watching my 98-year-old grandma's face as she realized that we were paying HOW MUCH for the privilege of COOKING OUR OWN FOOD? The biggest stress we had was worrying that somehow the check would find its way to her, which would have resulted in an immediate heart attack. (Although the drama of a heart attack easily could have created a chain of events that could have led up to a free meal.....hmmmmmmm....)

Susie held her own in the cheese course, keeping an impressively steady pace of stabbing bread or apples and dipping them in the molten cheese. The Boy was seated at the end of the table so had to stand to dip. I did have a moment of passing guilt as I saw that my dad was working very hard at coordinating the kids in their fondue efforts. But it passed. Something about all that cheese makes guilt not last long.

But it was the CHOCOLATE that was truly the super-prize of the evening. I was already way too full from my main course (shrimp and steak) so I chose to be a witness instead of a participant. The Boy was asleep by then (and doesn't really like chocolate anyway). The parents were also stuffed. So Susie, as well as Lil Bro and his Hot Blonde Girlfriend, sat in a row and ate melted chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers FLAM-fricking-BE. With cheesecake. Here's what they looked like:

More images of our evening are below and here:

Things that are annoying

I don't know why I'm ranting so much this week. It's not hormonal. Maybe it's the diet. Anyway.........

Don't you hate people who don't follow up? Like not answering emails? Or returning phone calls that need an answer? Urgh. I've spent too much time today trying to track someone down. I had pretty much decided that she was not in the office at all, but I did call another person and found out she was there. Frankly, that made me even angrier. If she'd been home with the flu that would be a much better reason than just ignoring my messages. If this were an isolated incident I'd probably be less irate. But this office in general is really, really, really bad about following up.

Which won't matter a whit to me anymore if the news I'm about to get is the news I'm 99.9% sure I'm going to get. Because I'll discontinue my affiliation with the no-follow-through office. And I'll be more than happy to say more about that later, but not today. I'm just superstitious enough to not want to jinx things.

But hey, the Husband claims that I have lost weight on his diet. Not sure if he's right (we don't own a scale), but he might be. I got rid of a lot of clothes that don't fit anymore (quitting smoking plus being a foodie equals weight gain), so I'm no longer torturing myself with things I can't wear. Just torturing myself with an almost-vegan diet at home.

Halloween and Chili Smack-Down

It's almost the Husband's favorite holiday. He loves him some Halloween. Is it the candy? The costumes? The spooky movies? I dunno. He just loves the whole thing. And now that we're both approaching forty, when he starts decorating the exterior of the house for said holiday, he's starting to look like "Middle Aged Man", that character from Saturday Night Live about fifteen years ago. And just knowing that reference probably divulges our age more than we'd like it to.

This weekend our neighborhood is having our first-ever Chili Cook-Off. But with all the trash-talking going on, I've decided it should be called the Chili Smack-Down. See, I'm an organizer. So when someone suggested that we should have a chili contest, I totally ran with the ball. Now people are saying that it's my "baby". Um, not. But I am gonna win that trophy. Even if it means cheating. Which I'm not against. At all.

I won't divulge my secret weapon. But I'll leave you with a hint. It starts with C.

Growing pains

There are a few moments in parenting that are so quiet and normal and unspectacular that you almost miss them. But they happen and they're sometimes amazing.

This morning I was in the kitchen pouring my coffee and I glanced up. Susie had come in the room to put something in her backpack. She didn't look my direction and was only there a moment, but I could see the woman inside her. The woman's getting closer to the surface. When she was a baby I could only see the woman inside a little bit...in her eyes (and more in pictures than in "real life"). She had a really intense gaze. Still has it.

But now her proportions are changing and her body is starting to change a little and her face is losing that luscious baby fat (and gaining cheekbones!) and her hair is different and suddenly she's beautiful in a different way than she used to be.

And she's also so cool. I had printed out the excel spreadsheet I made for week one of my husband's diet (OCD? Nah!) and affixed it to the refrigerator door. She's fascinated by this diet and is participating...checking what he's supposed to have for breakfast and having it too. (Of course, I'm augmenting her diet because she needs more fat in her diet than we do.) Her interest and support of this new healthy lifestyle is really touching. And I don't want to dismiss it as "cute", because I think it's more than that. She's really participating in this as an equal, not as a little girl who puts on Daddy's shoes to be funny. And she ate brown rice and curry last night with no complaints.

It was supposed to be a nice, quiet weekend...

...but it wasn't. Okay, it was nice. But not really quiet. From the moment I got home Friday, with news of the FREE NBA TICKETS I had scored, forcing the realizations that (a) there was no time to cook and eat dinner at home and (b) there was no time to eat dinner in a restaurant and (c) we'd better leave RIGHT NOW if we want to take the trolley, we were moving fast. We walked the 8+ blocks to the nearest trolley stop, braved a VERY CROWDED trolley (I love tourists, really I do), then walked from the trolley line to the state-of-the-art FedEx Forum to see our hometown Grizzlies defeat the Miami Heat. And the kids were on the jumbotron. And we saw some neighbors there. Good times. (Oh, they serve salads at the FedEx Forum. Thank goodness. Hubby just started the diet!) Got home way past the kids' bedtime and everyone crashed.

Did I mention that the FREE tickets I scored were marked at $105 seats? $105 EACH. Like meaning that my family's buns were collectively parked in $420 worth of NBA seats. That's more than my freakin' dining room set cost. Total. People really do a lot of strange things with their money.

My husband got home after his Saturday morning class, informing us that there had been several calls to his cell phone that were meant for Susie, it got crazy. Turns out there was an impromptu birthday party in the making. So what was meant to be a day of leisurely running a couple of errands but mostly hanging around the house turned into a mad dash of an afternoon, cramming in the errands that really did need to be run, then zooming in a different direction to get a present then attend the party.

Did I mention that the party lasted four hours? And that we were tired and wanted to go home? (Yes, the adults.) Note to self: if seven children are bowling, they really should use two lanes, not one. Because kids are slow bowlers. And not very good.

Wait, that's only half the weekend. It gets quieter.

So the adults "recovered" by sleeping late on Sunday, then we all had yummy smoothies for breakfast. Husband took a bike ride while the kids showered and got dressed. After lunch, the kids slipped away to spend the afternoon with nearby friends (nearby = I can drive them to the house in under five minutes and wear my pajamas in the car). My husband and I enjoyed the kid-free afternoon by watching saved-up TIVO'd television episodes and movies. Lovely. Finished the evening with homemade pizza (whole wheat crust and goat cheese, thankyouverymuch), one glass each of red wine (it's healthy!!) and a little more television.

Idyllic, no? I don't know when we'll get to do that again. It was nice.

It's Friday!

My neighborhood is awesome. Our first neighborhood newsletter (newspaper-in-training) was delivered from the printer yesterday. So cool. And the people who volunteered their time in making it real are dedicated enough that they are also volunteering their time to distribute it house-to-house. Cool folks.

And one of my neighbors, whom I don't really know well, just offered me tickets to this evening's NBA game. For free. Because she works there. How awesome is that?!?

We've got a nice quiet weekend planned. A trip to the Farmers' Market with our Greek friends in the morning tomorrow, and church on Sunday, but that's really it. After I'm done eating bonbons and drinking champagne whilst lounging on the sofa wearing my satin Japanese robe, I'll spend some quality time with the sewing machine working on The Boy's Halloween costume (the Grim Reaper) and possibly Susie's costume too (Wednesday Addams, of The Addams Family). And sewing merit badges on her Girl Scout sash. Because if I don't, she'll probably kick my ass. (She's almost as big as I am now...and pretty scrappy.) And I really don't think I could fight back after all those bonbons and champagne. Note to self: don't sew anything until I've sobered up.

I'll probably study some cookbooks too, since I've got this whole diet makeover thing to do now. Anthony Bourdain, I apologize in advance. Your cookbook will be neglected for the next few months. At least it's baking season so I can make lots of whole grain, high fiber breads. With vegetables baked into them. And superfoods.

Eating Healthier

With my husband's newly-diagnosed health issue comes a mandate: eat better, exercise more. Don't believe they hype; not all families with busy moms eat a diet of pre-processed crap. My family is a case in point. We don't own a microwave, even. Most days we sit down to a home-cooked meal. True enough, that meal is seldom eaten at the dining room table (much to my chagrin), but we do eat together. And we mostly eat healthy foods.

The husband and Susie are vegetarians. She has been her whole life; he became a vegetarian shortly after we got married. (I was a vegetarian until pregnancy, when I started chasing down small animals in a quest for more, more, more protein!) The Boy and I eat meat. He doesn't eat a lot of meat, however, so family meals tend to be vegetarian.

Given that our family's normal diet consists of mostly vegetables, grains, eggs and beans (I try to have a light hand when it comes to cheese), I'm left in a bit of a quandry when directives like "Eat healthier" come our way. Holy crud, how much healthier can I make the stuff? No more butter? No more white flour? Aren't we doing a lot better than most people? How good do we have to be, for goodness' sake?

Here's what I'm going to do. Eliminate butter (sigh....). Use 1/2 whole wheat flour when I would normally just use white (in breads, anyway....not sure that would work in cookies, etc.). (Not that I even really bake cookies all that often.) (Except now I want to do just that, but it's probably just a reaction to all this talk of healthy food.) More soups (they fill you up with less calories - thanks to the water!). More fruit. More nonfat and lowfat dairy products. Less reliance on eggs. And we're going to strive to have at least three superfoods in our meals each day. Oh, and ice cream? Not so much. (I'm so going to have to take the kids out to get some fat calories for their developing brains!) The good news is that consumption of red wine is actually recommended for this condition. Hooray!

But those are the easy changes. The harder changes are deeper-rooted. The celebratory trip to the ice cream store. The Friday night pizza. Those associations of food with happiness and togetherness. We can enjoy family time without wrapping it around some high-fat, high-sugar treat. Which is something we want our kids to learn anyway. We're already on the right track - the kids enjoy the family bike ride to the Farmer's Market more than they enjoy a meal at the local Mexican eatery. And a long walk after dinner can replace dessert, right? I guess it's gonna have to - health issues are usually a combination of genetics and behavior. We can only control the behavior. So let's get it under control and see how healthy we can be!