Parenting is like walking a tight rope sometimes. You love your kids more than anyone in the world, and you genuinely see the best in them 99% of the time, which leaves you in a serious pickle when you notice that they really suck at something. So the thing is, Reese loves to sing. We used to joke when she was little that she lived her life like a Disney Princess, always in song. But homegirl can't sing. At all. This morning she was belting out Taylor Swift and I was so sure that the dogs were going to start howling it was that bad. She does this weird, deep, man voice. I can't even describe it so just know that it's painful. But, how do I tell her that?! I'm her mom, and I think that the sun shines out of her little booty, so if I think it's bad can you imagine what other people think? And here's the thing, I don't care if she belts out tunes at home, or with her girlfriends, or anywhere else for that matter. Singing and dancing is fun! But I mean, I have to interfere before she goes on American Idol. I don't ever want her to feel public humiliation.
Or, maybe she sings beautifully and it's just the carb withdrawals making me think that it's awful. Probably not, though. But onto the carb withdrawals, with the exception of Friday night I've been keeping my carbs at or below 100 grams. It is so tough! I know that I don't need a ton of carbs right now because I'm doing nothing that requires energy, but man oh man do they taste delicious. I think that I might start Wednesday Weigh Ins again, just to stay on track. It's too easy to lie to yourself, ya know?
I'm gearing up for the Whole30. I think I'm going to focus on making a month long menu and grocery list, and try to get some of the breakfast foods cooked & frozen so that I can offset the cost in January. Oh, and to be super prepared too. Totally. If you're going to do it with me, I'm reading the book It Starts With Food, so hopefully I go into it with a clearer head this time. Last time I did it it was because Paleo was cool, now I just know that my system needs a reboot, and I wonder if it will help with the leftover bursitis in my right hip. We shall see!
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Saturday, November 22, 2014
There's a Dead Body in my Backyard
Not a human body, obviously, but a dead hamster body and a dead body is a dead body. Before we delve into the hamster funeral let's cover some basics. Last year for Christmas, Santa brought Reese a special 'North Pole' hamster, that could never be replaced so she had to take super good care of it. And for the most part she did. Except for the incident, which was all Camden's fault, and Reese has no idea.
The incident started out like any other day, Reese off to school and Cam, Evi and I home playing. Camden asked if he could go play with the hamster, and I said yes. He goes upstairs, gets the hamster and starts playing. Two things I want to interject with here. The first is that Camden was always so gentle with the hamster that I never worried when he had it. The second is that I am a naive fool. So a few minutes later Camden starts screaming for me about something being wrong with Mr. Nibbles. I run upstairs and find a hamster that has been beaten to death by a plastic shark. I totally panic, contemplate sending Camden to future serial killer rehab, and then do what any good mom would do and lie and say that the hamster is just taking a nap. And then I replace the dead hamster with a live one. And that is how the first Mr. Nibbles met his untimely end.
Now, the hamster that we replaced Mr. Nibbles the first wasn't an exact match color wise, so we continue our train of lies and tell Reese that it's 'molting.' The thing about Mr. Nibbles II is that he's a dick, and won't let any of the kids get close to him. I guess that when hamsters molt their personalities also change, but that once the molting process is done, they go back to normal. Our kids are going to be so messed up as adults. The original Mr. Nibbles was such a nice, friendly rodent that we couldn't leave a dick in it's place, so I return him to Petsmart. Have you ever returned a pet to a pet store? They look at you like you're a monster who might be raising a serial killer. Little did they know that only half of that is true. But seriously, you work at a store that mass breeds small rodents for profit, you aren't exactly in the moral high ground on this one. So, after many dirty looks I return Mr. Nibbles II and buy Mr. Nibbles III. Clearly I made the third hamster purchase at a different pet store so that my name didn't go into some database.
Anyways, onto Mr. Nibbles III. He replaced the original Mr. Nibbles perfectly! He was friendly, almost a completely different color, but it's fine, it's just what he molted into, and Reese was none the wiser. She really is so pretty. Have you ever had small children and a hamster? That thing is worth every cent of the $8 you spent on it. It entertains them for hours! That poor hamster was regularly an ice cream man, part of Barbies dream life, a pirate, or any other variation of their imagination. At one point they trained the hamster to go through a maze for a treat. Seriously, get your kids a hamster, you'll never have to make up things for them to do again.
Well, the other night things didn't go so well. I asked Reese to make sure that Mr. Nibbles III had food and water and when she went to pet him she discovered his cold, stiff little body. Actually, first she picked it up, noticed that it was dead and then threw it back into his cage. I think that both of us might be scarred for life after that. She freaks out. That might be an understatement. She spends a solid hour sobbing and chanting "I....want....Mr.....Nibbles..." over, and over, and over again. To distract her we decide to have a funeral.
Hamster funerals are quite interesting. They're basically real funerals for a tiny rodent that you aren't really sad is dead, so you have no idea how to act. Let me just break it down for you. First, you have to pick out a casket. A shoebox will do just fine. But you can't just bury a dead hamster in a shoebox, you have to make sure it'll be comfortable in the afterlife. So you fill it with it's bedding and wrap the dead rodent in a rag that you've been begging your kid to get rid of forever and then you tape the shit out of that box. No need to chance the dogs digging up and ripping into that box. Could you just imagine, Reese coming home from school only to see little bits of hamster fluff all over the backyard? I could never afford the therapy bills.
Then you have to bury the box. Interesting fact, this is significantly easier to do in the movies than in real life. Mark starts to dig and gets like 18" down before he hits straight clay and rock. You can't dig through that shit with a shovel, so that's as deep as that hole gets. You put the taped-to-shit casket in the hole, and then, because you've watched way too much CSI know to sprinkle kitty litter in that hole to absorb the rotting animal smell. At this point both your child and husband will be crying. It's fine though, because the third step of rodent funerals is the eulogy.
This part is very sweet, and touching. Reese had written Mr. Nibbles III a note, which she read out loud (after a motivational speech, given by Mark). Even heartless I got a little bit choked up at this part.
To close the funeral out your crying husband should give the Lord's Prayer while you silently wonder if you should be preparing light appetizers and cocktails for the reception to follow. At that point I remembered that is was almost 9pm, and that showers were to follow this event, not cocktails and usher everyone inside.
And then, the next day your 8 year old daughter and all of her friends have the most morbid playdate ever, and reenact the funeral, complete with sobbing, a moment of silence and fighting.
And that is the story of how there is now a dead body in my backyard. RIP Mr. Nibbles III.
The incident started out like any other day, Reese off to school and Cam, Evi and I home playing. Camden asked if he could go play with the hamster, and I said yes. He goes upstairs, gets the hamster and starts playing. Two things I want to interject with here. The first is that Camden was always so gentle with the hamster that I never worried when he had it. The second is that I am a naive fool. So a few minutes later Camden starts screaming for me about something being wrong with Mr. Nibbles. I run upstairs and find a hamster that has been beaten to death by a plastic shark. I totally panic, contemplate sending Camden to future serial killer rehab, and then do what any good mom would do and lie and say that the hamster is just taking a nap. And then I replace the dead hamster with a live one. And that is how the first Mr. Nibbles met his untimely end.
Now, the hamster that we replaced Mr. Nibbles the first wasn't an exact match color wise, so we continue our train of lies and tell Reese that it's 'molting.' The thing about Mr. Nibbles II is that he's a dick, and won't let any of the kids get close to him. I guess that when hamsters molt their personalities also change, but that once the molting process is done, they go back to normal. Our kids are going to be so messed up as adults. The original Mr. Nibbles was such a nice, friendly rodent that we couldn't leave a dick in it's place, so I return him to Petsmart. Have you ever returned a pet to a pet store? They look at you like you're a monster who might be raising a serial killer. Little did they know that only half of that is true. But seriously, you work at a store that mass breeds small rodents for profit, you aren't exactly in the moral high ground on this one. So, after many dirty looks I return Mr. Nibbles II and buy Mr. Nibbles III. Clearly I made the third hamster purchase at a different pet store so that my name didn't go into some database.
Anyways, onto Mr. Nibbles III. He replaced the original Mr. Nibbles perfectly! He was friendly, almost a completely different color, but it's fine, it's just what he molted into, and Reese was none the wiser. She really is so pretty. Have you ever had small children and a hamster? That thing is worth every cent of the $8 you spent on it. It entertains them for hours! That poor hamster was regularly an ice cream man, part of Barbies dream life, a pirate, or any other variation of their imagination. At one point they trained the hamster to go through a maze for a treat. Seriously, get your kids a hamster, you'll never have to make up things for them to do again.
Well, the other night things didn't go so well. I asked Reese to make sure that Mr. Nibbles III had food and water and when she went to pet him she discovered his cold, stiff little body. Actually, first she picked it up, noticed that it was dead and then threw it back into his cage. I think that both of us might be scarred for life after that. She freaks out. That might be an understatement. She spends a solid hour sobbing and chanting "I....want....Mr.....Nibbles..." over, and over, and over again. To distract her we decide to have a funeral.
Hamster funerals are quite interesting. They're basically real funerals for a tiny rodent that you aren't really sad is dead, so you have no idea how to act. Let me just break it down for you. First, you have to pick out a casket. A shoebox will do just fine. But you can't just bury a dead hamster in a shoebox, you have to make sure it'll be comfortable in the afterlife. So you fill it with it's bedding and wrap the dead rodent in a rag that you've been begging your kid to get rid of forever and then you tape the shit out of that box. No need to chance the dogs digging up and ripping into that box. Could you just imagine, Reese coming home from school only to see little bits of hamster fluff all over the backyard? I could never afford the therapy bills.
Then you have to bury the box. Interesting fact, this is significantly easier to do in the movies than in real life. Mark starts to dig and gets like 18" down before he hits straight clay and rock. You can't dig through that shit with a shovel, so that's as deep as that hole gets. You put the taped-to-shit casket in the hole, and then, because you've watched way too much CSI know to sprinkle kitty litter in that hole to absorb the rotting animal smell. At this point both your child and husband will be crying. It's fine though, because the third step of rodent funerals is the eulogy.
This part is very sweet, and touching. Reese had written Mr. Nibbles III a note, which she read out loud (after a motivational speech, given by Mark). Even heartless I got a little bit choked up at this part.
To close the funeral out your crying husband should give the Lord's Prayer while you silently wonder if you should be preparing light appetizers and cocktails for the reception to follow. At that point I remembered that is was almost 9pm, and that showers were to follow this event, not cocktails and usher everyone inside.
And then, the next day your 8 year old daughter and all of her friends have the most morbid playdate ever, and reenact the funeral, complete with sobbing, a moment of silence and fighting.
And that is the story of how there is now a dead body in my backyard. RIP Mr. Nibbles III.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
12 Weeks Out- A Quick Recap
Do you ever get trapped in that 'I can change! I want to change! Wait, is that pizza?!' trap? That's so where I'm at right now. Actually, I'm laying in bed trying to talk myself into doing a push-up, or at least attempting one, but, I've had 3 slices of pizza and a push-up seems like a lot of work right now. But I'm pretty sure that I could do a push-up if I wanted to. Anyways, all things push-ups aside today's a big day! It's been 12 official weeks since my hip was sliced and diced! So, let's recap, and then let's set some goals that don't involve pizza.
Week 1: Blacked out on painkillers. It was a magical week.
Week 2: Online shopping while high on painkillers. It was an expensive week.
Week 3: Boredom sets in. I had already watched two complete series of shows and was starting on Bones.
Week 4: Finally some progress, I was allowed to go to 10% weight bearing!
Week 5: Major set back. My pain level was back to week 1 levels, and I was taken from 10% weight bearing to 0% weight bearing.
Week 6: Fuck it all, I hate crutches and gave them up completely.
Week 7: Woo-hoo! Sweet freedom, I'm driving again!
Week 8: Officially walking the kids to and from school! One of the things I had missed the most.
Week 9: Back to the doctor. He wants me to stop progressing and hold tight for a few weeks.
Week 10: More of the same.
Week 11: More of the same.
Week 12: Gurrrrlll, stop eating all things carbs and focus. Let's set some goals.
Basically, I need to get my crap together. My eating is all over the board, and I'm binging like there is a purge to follow, but it's just binging. So, my first goal is to log all of my food into MFP until Dec. 1st.
My second goal is to keep my carbs under 100 grams. What does that mean? That I'm going to be HANGRY these next two weeks. But I've been on a serious carb bender and néed to flush my system. I'm contemplating doing the Whole 30 in January, if anyone wants to do it with me. We can all hate life together those first two weeks.
Lastly, I think that I am going to join a gym in December. I still won't be cleared to do anything fun, but I can at least hit my arms/shoulders and back a few times a week. I'm going to she hulk up, and then have toothpick legs.
I can not wait to get to a point of real progress, and be cleared to do everything that I want to! I didn't even realized how much I missed running, and I've got a serious build up of excess energy and no way of working it off. I know that things like squatting are forever off the table and I'm working on being OK with it. I am also super excited for things like lunging, side to side agility, and a few other minor things of that nature to be on my PT list next week, small progress is still progress. That about sums up my last 12 weeks, hopefully the next 12 go way faster!
I can not wait to get to a point of real progress, and be cleared to do everything that I want to! I didn't even realized how much I missed running, and I've got a serious build up of excess energy and no way of working it off. I know that things like squatting are forever off the table and I'm working on being OK with it. I am also super excited for things like lunging, side to side agility, and a few other minor things of that nature to be on my PT list next week, small progress is still progress. That about sums up my last 12 weeks, hopefully the next 12 go way faster!
Monday, November 10, 2014
Brown Sugar Glazed Pork Chops
I have been on such a pork roll lately. I love the way that it works so well with so many different flavors! Plus, it's the other, other white meat. And, I'm at that place where if I eat one more chicken breast I might drive my car into the guard rail of the freeway. Anyways, it all started with a craving for my vegetables to be prepared in a new way, and has spiraled into pork prepared 3 different ways over 3 different nights. I feel like I've been in such a rut when it comes to vegetables. Balsamic brussel sprouts? Bam, I got it. Balsamic cauliflower? Done! Roasted broccoli? Owned it. Those are delicious recipes, but man, are they tired.
Anyways, I was perusing Pinterest, and I saw tons upon tons of brown sugar glazed pork chop recipes, and, I had pork chops on hand! They're all basically the same, but I modified a few things to make it even more amazing. You know what the best part of this recipe is? It only uses one pan. Seriously, make this for dinner tonight, you won't be disappointed!
Ingredients:
4 bone-in pork chops
5 slices of bacon
1 package of shaved brussel sprouts
1 tbsp. olive oil
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
How to make them:
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. Combine the brown sugar, cayenne, garlic powder, salt & pepper. Dredge the pork chops in the mixture. Make sure they're thickly coated. There will be some mixture left over, rest assured, we use it later!
3. Heat the olive oil and brown the pork chops. Cook them over medium to medium-high heat for 5 minutes on each side.
4. Remove the pork chops from the pan and cook your bacon. Remove bacon, let cool and cut into small pieces.
5. Toss the brussel sprouts in the pan with the bacon grease & pork chop drippings, and sprinkle with the remaining spice mixture. Let this cook down for a few minutes.
6. Add the bacon & pork chops back to the pan. Put the pork chops right on top of the brussel sprouts, so that all of their amazing juices drip right onto the sprouts, making them extra yummy!
7. Bake for 10 or so minutes, until the meat is as done as you would like. I like mine done medium, so I only did mine for 7 minutes.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
The Homework "Gray Zone"
Oh my gosh you guys, I think I've committed a mortal sin. That might be a tad dramatic, but just stay with me on this one. If your family is anything like mine then you've also been doing the sports hustle. The one where one parent is shuffling one kid off to Sport A, while the other parent is shuffling another kid off to Sport C, and eventually you guys will meet in the middle at Sport B, and hopefully one of you has remembered the third kid. Shits getting crazy around here.
Amidst the shuffle of sports, the state is pretty adamant that we still educate our children. God knows why, Common Core is basically mind fucking them anyways. But, with education comes homework. I have such a love/hate relationship with homework. On the one hand, I feel like it really ties me into what they're working on in class and keeps everything connected. On the other hand, I really hate wasting time doing homework. My feelings aside, homework has to get done, and wine has to get consumed. It's a hand in hand process, my friends.
So, back to our story at hand. Reese is in 3rd grade now. It's a grade that really teeters on 'fun kid school!' and 'holy shit, you're a big kid now' school. So, sometime in September she got assigned a book report. We were so on top of that ball it hurt. We had our book read way before the assigned 'finish reading your book by' date (because it was like 3 weeks out from the date we were handed this assignment), our rough draft was turned in and corrected way early, and then we even managed to type up the final draft! And then the madness happened. We had A MONTH from the date that the rough draft was handed back to Reese to the final due date, so, we did what every busy family would do and set it aside.
The night before the project is due rolls around, and I reread the instructions, and not only is her (now neatly typed) book report due the following day, so is a visual aid and a presentation. Justkillmenow. So, we get home from cheer at 6:30 and Reese starts making a poster. Which is literally taking for-freaking-ever. I mean, how does one even color so slowly?! It baffles me. We take a break from our poster, eat dinner, clean up dinner, and start back in on the poster. At 8:30 we are still working on this damned poster, and suddenly I have a light bulb moment!
"Reese, why don't you say your presentation to Mommy while you color, and I'll write it down for you!"
It was genius, guys. Nothing could go wrong. We might even get to bed by 9:30! Until this sentence happened.
"But I don't know what to say, Mommy."
A large amount of expletives were said in my head, but it's ok, because I'm a problem solver and I had this on lock. So, here's how her presentation was written (I should probably just be calling this our presentation):
Me: "What was the title of the book that you read, and who was the author?"
Reese: "Matilda by Roald Dahl."
Me: "How did this story start?"
"What was the middle?"
"How did it end?"
"Who are these characters?"
"What was the best part?"
"Would you recommend this book to your friends?"
She answered and I kind of summed things up here and there, and wrote them down for her presentation. Seriously, it was some gray zone shit. I don't know that I necessarily wrote her presentation for her, but there was no way it would have sounded the way it did had I not coached every single word out of her mouth. I don't even know where to go from here. Do I tell the teacher? Hell to the no, we don't have time to redo that project. Do I talk to Reese about it? Maybe just mention that I helped her so much because this was her first time, and next time she'll be more independent? Or, do we just forget that this project happened, and try harder the next time?
I should add, we didn't get to bed until 10:30 that night, even with my help. It's fine though, all of the good parents teach their 8 year olds the magic art of procrastination, and how it leads to better papers in college.
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