Monday, June 30, 2014

A Whole30 Update...

Today marks Day 8 of my Whole30 journey.  I haven't been blogging it out day by day because I figured that'd bore you guys into an early death, so here is a summary of how the first week went:

Day 1:  This is a breeze.  These foods are delicious!  Thirty days?? Heck, I could do 60 days easy!
Days 2-4:  My head feels like Mike Tyson's punching bag.  Why do I feel like death warmed over? If I have to eat another egg for breakfast I will cry.
Days 5-6:  I'm hangry and want to eat ALL the things.  Except eggs.
Day 7:  Headache is gone and my energy seems to have returned to normal-ish, but I'm still craving sugar like nobody's business.  And it feels like every picture on my Facebook and Instagram news feeds includes ice cream. Or cookies. Or cake.  Mmmmm... cake.

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It has been a challenge, but it is doable.  And I can tell you honestly that I haven't cheated once yet.  I can also tell you honestly that sitting at lunch yesterday with my in-laws while Micah ate a plate of bacon (non-compliant, as it contained sugar) and biscuits and gravy (my FAVORITE) was torturous.  He has been wonderfully tagging along on this adventure with me whenever we are together (I told him to eat whatever he wants for lunches), but I couldn't let him skip out on his momma's homemade biscuits and gravy yesterday.  And they sweetly made a separate meal for me, including a bowl full of delicious fruit and fresh tomatoes from Micah's dad's garden.  But those biscuits, y'all.  They were calling my name.

I'm not supposed to be weighing myself, but I can't help myself.  I'm down about 6 pounds, which isn't at all crazy if you consider the binge I went on last weekend before I started.  It's definitely motivating, but I really am trying to focus on health rather than the numbers on the scale.    

I plan on doing a roundup of my favorite recipes at the end, but here are a few I've loved so far:
  • Nikki's Sweet Potato, Apple, and Bacon Hash.  This stuff is out of this world.  It's a little time-consuming, or else I'd make it EVERY morning.  After devouring it this weekend, my plan is to make a big batch tonight so that I'll have plenty for breakfasts this week.
  • Sliced bananas with raw almond butter melted on top.  I keep convincing myself that I'm not using this as a substitution for dessert (which is against the rules and the reason that no paleo baking is allowed) because it's so tasty.
  • Yellow Curry Chicken Bowl (prepared according to the directions laid out in It Starts With Food).  Micah devoured this and keeps asking for more, so I'll definitely be making more this week.
There have also been some total and utter failures in the kitchen this past week.  I'll make sure and include those on my recipe roundup, too.

Overall, I'm really, really happy I took the plunge.  I recognize that my struggles with food (i.e., my unadulterated love of all things delicious) will likely be something I have to deal with for the rest of my life, and I know I won't be able to forego glazed buttermilk donuts forever. But for now, this is workable, and it's working.

So I'll just be over here with my eggs and spinach.  I bet you're so jealous.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Why I'll never be a famous blogger...

You know how I know that I'll never be a famous blogger?

Well, first because I've got some HTML problem that makes my blog practically un-searchable.  (And in case you're wondering, it's not a SEO issue, at least as far as I can tell. I've just got to get a new blog template, I think.)

There's also the fact that I have no real vision for this space, so my "content" is just whatever random ish comes to mind each day week.  

But mostly, I'll never be a famous blogger because I don't want to do what it takes to be one.

When I look around and observe the success of many of the "big" bloggers that I read and adore, I become ridiculously aware of the fact that I am wholly incapable of doing the things that are required to "attract readers."  (That phrase feels so foreign to me that it feels weird even typing it.)

I have neither the time, nor the inclination to hop around to every blog participating in a link-up and leave disingenuous comments on blogs that I know I'll never be visiting again.  (I do love link-ups because they're a great way to connect with like-minded bloggers, but if I comment on your blog, it's because I either already read it or would like to start reading it and am reaching out to say hello.)  I would abhor the pressure of feeling compelled to write on certain topics or in a certain way just because that's what readers expect.  I am uninterested in taking pictures of flowers and books and coffee cups that I arranged beautifully for the sole purpose of sharing them here.  And the thought of having to answer to sponsors or to peddle products/companies that I don't believe in makes me sweat a little.

Please don't misunderstand me.  I am in no way judging anyone who has the desire to grow their blog, attract sponsors, and make some income from their hard work.  Those are understandable and awesome goals, and I applaud people who are able to do them well.  And who doesn't love being inspired by by carefully orchestrated and beautiful blogs?

It's just that I don't think that I want to pursue those things.

You know what I want?

I want to come here when I feel like it, write from the heart, connect with you guys, and then close my laptop and continue on living my life.  I never, ever want this space to be an obligation, and whenever I have begun to feel that way, I just force myself to pull back a bit and let go of the pressure that I sometimes feel to satisfy imaginary demands that no one is really placing on me.  (I mean, you guys don't care that I haven't told you yet that Grace has twelve teeth already, do you?)  If I ever had to worry about numbers and page views and comments, this wouldn't be fun anymore.  It'd be a job, and I've already got a job that I adore.

I just want to keep writing.  And I want to keep reading about Kristin's relocation to Colorado, and Joey's book, and Leslie's sweet southern charm, and Emily's pregnancy, and the other Kristin's adventures with Eli, and Nichole's new house, and Jessie's adorable boys, and Karly's little Ivy, and Laurie's insane organization skills, and Jenn's quest for answers, and Joy's pretty princess.  You girls (and so many others that I don't have the space to mention) are what make this whole thing worth it (even if you have no idea I'm writing about you right now).

So maybe I'll never be a real blogger, whatever that means.  But no matter what... I'll always be real.    

Friday, June 20, 2014

These are my confessions... (plus a haircut)

It's Friday, and I'm in the mood to do a little confessing, y'all.


First, let's talk about the fact that this happened.

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I got a wild hair (ha. see what I did there?) and chopped about six or so inches off on Saturday.  I feel so ridiculously hairless, which is just funny since I can look at this picture and plainly see that my hair isn't actually short.  But it feels like I have a pixie cut or something.  Just call me Halle Berry (pretty please?).


I'm pretty certain I'm going to start Whole 30 on Monday.  I have been eating like crap for about a month and a half now, and I'm ready to hop back on the wagon again.  But I'm not starting over with Slim4Life because this time I really want to focus on eating real food, and I'm hoping Whole 30 can help me learn to crave the things that are good for me.  I know the transition will be a major one, but as I was learning about the paleo-ish program, this excerpt from the website really struck me:

It is not hard. Don’t you dare tell us this is hard. Beating cancer is hard. Birthing a baby is hard. Losing a parent is hard. Drinking your coffee black. Is. Not. Hard. You’ve done harder things than this, and you have no excuse not to complete the program as written. It’s only thirty days, and it’s for the most important health cause on earth – the only physical body you will ever have in this lifetime. 

Preach. It.

I'll let you know how it all goes.  I'm cautiously optimistic, although I can't really envision a world where I don't eat cheese...


I did the thing I swore I'd never do.  I jumped on the bandwagon..

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... and bought Grace not one, not two, but three pair of moccasins (from here).

Okay, that's a lie.

I had actually already bought two other pair (from here and here), and they were so darned cute I had to buy some more.

But hear me out.  First, my kid has the chubbiest feet you've ever seen, and it's really hard to find shoes that are thick enough.  (Yes, I know that StrideRite makes extra wide shoes, and no, they're not always wide enough.  Or cute enough.)  It's also really hard to find shoes that she won't pull off her feet the moment I put them on.  The moccasins fit perfectly and stay on her feet, and they must be comfortable because she doesn't try to take them off.  And when I pull them off after hours of playing, her feet aren't sweaty.

So judge me all you want.  I'm judging me too, but I just can't help myself.


Oh goodness, y'all.  I think that's all I've got.  I guess confession number four is that I am the world's most uninspired blogger.

Feel like confessing with me?  Link up with Leslie, and tell us your deep, dark secrets.  Or a few random thoughts that come to mind.  Whichever you prefer.

Friday, June 13, 2014

New York: Day Two

{Day Two: 9/11 Memorial, the Financial District, Little Italy/Chinatown, Tea at the Plaza, WICKED!}

(See the details from our first day in New York here.)

When I went to New York in college, it was 2006, and the 9/11 memorial hadn't yet been completed.  So as we were planning our trip this time, I knew it was something I wanted to see.

On the morning of our second day in New York, we got up fairly early, grabbed bagels the size of our heads  at Think Coffee near our hotel (mine was covered with Nutella, obviously), and then took the subway down.

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I can't explain the way it made me feel to be standing at the place where such an unspeakable act of violence occurred.  Because it is also a place that represents so many of the things that make America a great nation:  bravery, courage, strength, service.  For anyone who is headed to New York any time soon, I think a trip here is a must.

9/11 is near the Financial District, so we decided to walk through Robert F. Wagner, Jr. Park and Battery Park to get there.

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The "park" is really just a green, grassy space that curves around the edge of the water, and it was an excellent spot for a stroll.

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It was foggy, but we still got a peek of Lady Liberty from edge of the water.

When we got to Battery Park, we were disappointed to learn that the whole thing was under construction and not accessible for anything except getting in line to head to Liberty Island (where the Statue of Liberty is).  Bummer, but we continued on.

We walked along Broadway, past the Charging Bull, and headed straight for Trinity Church.

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This church is situated right on the corner of Broadway and Wall St., and it's so beautiful.

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Not only the outside, with its ornate architecture and the beautiful cemetery that surrounds it...

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... but the inside, too.

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Just stunning.

Mom wasn't really interested in exploring Wall St. any further, and I had already seen it, so we hopped on the subway and headed to Chinatown/Little Italy.

(And let me stop for a minute and mention how INCREDIBLY helpful the HopStop app was to us in navigating the subway system.  I found there to be very few subway maps in the stations and near the platforms as compared to London and Paris, so we wouldn't have survived without HopStop.  You basically just enter in the location you want to head to, and it'll direct you to the right subway station, tell you which train to get on, and even give you walking directions once you get off the subway.  You have to enter everything before you go down because there really isn't much cell service down in the stations, but it'll preserve your route information even without service.  It's awesome.)

We got off right in the heart of Chinatown, on Canal.

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Our exploration of Chinatown was limited, however, because we were both starving and had pasta on the brain.

The two areas are right on top of one another, essentially, so it wasn't long before we ran smack dab into Mulberry Street.

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Look, I know it's a tourist trap, but I feel like you can't go to NYC and not have pasta in Little Italy.  Ours was incredible.

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It was the Spaghetti Pellegrino at Pellegrino's.  I'd definitely get that again if I went back. 

After lunch, we had reservations at the Plaza Hotel for tea.  We hadn't originally planned on doing tea, but the idea struck me a few days before we went, and I snagged a reservation for 2:15 on Friday. The hotel isn't really at all near Little Italy, but we were subway pros by that point, so it was no big thang. Ha.

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Apparently the Plaza isn't quite what it used to be, but it's still worth a peek, in my opinion.  It's right in the heart of midtown, so it wouldn't be out of the way.

The inside is ornate, and Palm Court, where they serve lunch, and then tea in the afternoon, is just beautiful.

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Our adorable waiter told us that we were naughty like Eloise for starting from the top of the tray with the desserts.  But we were too full from lunch to mess with cucumber sandwiches.  Bring me macaroons, please!

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Pinkies out, obviously.

After tea, we were beat again, so we headed back to the hotel to grab a quick nap before dinner.  When we got off the subway, it had started to drizzle, so we were rushing to get back to the hotel, but I couldn't resist capturing this very New York moment.

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(He ended up trying to hustle me into playing with him, but I definitely wasn't about to test my pitiful chess skills against this guy who as sure as the sun rises would have annihilated me.)

After our nap, we threw on some fresh clothes and headed to dinner.

Patsy's, near the theater district, had been recommended by a few people, and I fell in love.  It was a quite, little place with pretty reasonable prices and delicious, classic Italian.  It felt very familiar, which means Rebecca and I may have stumbled upon it when we went before, but who knows.  Maybe it's just one of those places...

After dinner, it was time for the highlight of the trip for me.

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My wonderful mom sprung for awesome seats, and I could go on and on about how amazing this play was, but I won't.  If you're at all inclined to adore things that are magical, and if you were ever a fan of Wizard of Oz, you must see Wicked.  That's an order.

After the show was over, we had planned on exploring Times Square, but mother nature was kind of a witch that night. (Fitting.)  We walked out of Gershwin Theater to a torrential downpour.  We had umbrellas, but neither of us felt like sloshing through all the puddles to get a closer look at Times Square (we could see it from afar), so we hightailed it back to the subway station.

It's at this point I must tell you that I experienced something traumatic that evening.  It scarred me for life, and I still have the urge to lift my feet up off the ground even as I'm typing.

We got down to the correct platform (after mistakenly paying for access to the wrong platform) and were waiting on the train when I saw movement down on the tracks.

Rats, y'all. 

Mother freaking rats.

I had heard they made little homes down there, and I tried to convince myself that it was a sweet momma rat with her toddler rats, but I still pretty much died.  

I couldn't really tell you how I managed to force myself to stay down on the platform long enough to board the train back to our hotel, but I am not still currently in Manhattan, so I must have done it.


And that was day two.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

The important things...

Oh, hi there.

Don't mind me.  I've just been lounging around, lazily enjoying the summer breeze on a hammock with a fruity something or other in my hand, listening to the waves roll in, all while reading teen fiction and napping at my leisure.

Or... working like a crazy, frantically scrambling to find Father's Day gifts, playing with a pretty little princess, and ignoring my messy house.  

Same thing, right?

I'm working on getting the other two New York posts up, but until then, I needed a minute to just check in and say hi.  I missed this.

First, you must be inundated with cute.

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We celebrated my niece's third birthday a few weeks ago at a local park, and we had a blast.  My crazy girl couldn't get enough of Stella's wagon, and when she wasn't riding in it, she was running around everywhere.  She's crazy about her older cousin and basically wanted to be wherever Stella was.  So adorable.

I've been pretty busy at work, so our weeknights have mostly looked like this:

  1. Leave work.
  2. Get home and ask myself what the heck I can feed my kid for dinner.
  3. Whip something up quickly. (Or watch my handsome husband cook while I play with Grace.)
  4. Feed her with one hand and myself with the other.  
  5. Play outside and try and keep Grace from eating dirt.
  6. Plop her into the bath.  (This bubble maker has been such a life-saver!)
  7. Dry her off and squeeze her into PJs.
  8. Force her to snuggle and read a book because my heart can't take the fact that she's getting so big.
  9. Put her down for the night.
  10. Collapse onto the couch and stay there for the rest of the evening.  
  11. Maybe change out of my work clothes and eventually get into bed.

It's the best kind of exhausting, but whew.  I did manage to make the most INCREDIBLE fish dish the other night.  It literally took 15 minutes, and it tasted gourmet and delicious.  See the recipe here.

So that's what we've been up to.  I feel like I accomplish none of the things I "need" to, but then I look down at my kid's silly smile as we're playing peek-a-boo for the zillionth time, and I realize that the important things are getting done.  The rest of it can just wait.
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