March Break Trip #1 O'Hara Sugar Maples

    March Break is here!  That means hearing "MOM...I'M BORED!"  I try to fill their March Break without filling it so full that it is no longer enjoyable.  I so look forward to having a break from the school routine, and generally it's over before it feels like it has begun.  This year our funds are at a minimum (all the extra pennies are going to our wedding renewal), so I need to get creative.  

    We visit a Maple Sugar bush every year.  It's fun to see how things are made.  It gets us all outside, and we are learning.. it's a win win.  Last year we visited our friend's sugar bush.  Heather and Steve Needham own O'Hara Sugar Maples in Madoc, Ontario.  https://www.facebook.com/OSMaples

We had a great time.  Heather showed us how everything worked, but best of all she gave us a maple syrup sample... it was a highlight. http://themiddleagedwomanwholivedinashoe.blogspot.ca/2012/03/maple-sugar-bush.html

    We decided to begin our March Break with a trip to O'Hara Sugar Maples.  We drove up the long driveway, the bright red roof showing in the distance.  When we got into the building, Heather told us that the sap wasn't running today.  It had been running the day before, but not today.  Oh it's all about Mother Nature, what can you do.  We still had a great time because out came the maple syrup samples, and because Heather felt badly that we had come all that way only to have the operations, not operating, I noticed that our samples seemed a little bigger... SCORE!  We had a nice little visit, and purchased a jug of delicious maple syrup and of coarse we bought maple candy.

This picture looks better when you tilt your head

    My plan for dinner was to make pancakes, always a big hit.  We would top our pancakes with real maple syrup.  This dinner suggestion was met with a huge applause.  The maple syrup soaks right into the pancakes making a sweet and sticky sponge.
     Lately I have been reading a lot about the great nutritional properties of this Canadian classic.  As we try to make better "whole food" choices, maple syrup is an excellent choice.  It is rich in many essential nutrients.  Many health conscious people are opting to use maple syrup as a sweetening agent in their coffee and baking.  You might be tempted to also when you read the information that I've given to you below.

• Maple syrup is an excellent source of manganese, which plays an important role in energy production and antioxidant defenses, and is necessary for normal brain and nerve function. A portion of ¼ cup of maple syrup contains 100% of the Daily Value of manganese.
• The sweetener provides 37% of the Daily Value of riboflavin, which aids in the metabolic process.
• Pure maple syrup also contains 18% of the recommended Daily Value of zinc, which is essential for a healthy immune system.
• Other minerals found in maple syrup are magnesium, calcium and potassium, decreasing the risk of hypertension or stroke.

I took the above information from www.purecanadamaple.com/benefits-of-maple-syrup/maple-syrup-nutrition/

    If you are looking for something to do with your family this March Break, and are fortunate enough to live within driving distance of a Sugar Shack, I recommend that you go.  For me it's nice to know where my food comes from, and it's nice for the kids to also feel that connection to their food.  

All Those Uses For Imitation Crab

    Last week I went to Costco.  Costco is a funny store for me.  Every trip to Costco is a magical adventure.  When I first started going everything was new and wonderful.  I would get to the front cash and discover that my new and wonderful things added up to $500.00.  The more I go the less I spend.  I find that I really have to think about what items actual costs are when I am there.  I really give my brain a work out.  I also am now more jaded and the "new and wonderful" is no longer "new", but who am I kidding, it's still "wonderful".

    When I was at Costco last week they were featuring imitation crab.  It was a package of four smaller packages of imitation crab for $10.00.  I love imitation crab.  There are so many delicious ways to use it!  I like to sneak bits of it just on it's own with salt.  I have two favourite ways to use it however.  I make crab salad (the above picture, although it does not look as delicious as it actually is), and crab dip.  In the summer you can almost always find a Tupperwear dish filled with imitation crab salad in my fridge.  You might say that it is a summer staple.

    For the crab salad, I make it almost the same as I make my tuna salad.  I dice celery (above), while my noodles are cooking.  I chop the imitation crab into small bites.  I then rinse my cooked noodles in cold water, and let them dry a little.  I add my celery, and imitation crab, and about 1/2 cup of mayonnaise  or enough to blend it all together without  being too mayonnaisey.  My secret ingredient is about 1/2 tsp on Greek seasoning, and about a quarter cup of Parmesan cheese (it's also really nice with Asiago cheese finely grated).  In the summer I add freshly chopped chives.

    

    For imitation crab dip I chop the imitation crab, then mix it until it is just mixed with "Hellava Good" French onion dip.  Oh it is so yummy when you put it on crackers.

Felt Easter Eggs

    This summer my Aunt Jean sold her home and moved up to Sudbury to live with my cousin Heather.  In the process of packing my Aunt, who is a real crafter, had to purge most of her crafting supplies.  Sad for her, bonus for me!  She gave me a bag full of bits and pieces of felt.  It has sat up on the top shelf of my laundry room since the summer.  I have had many wonderful ideas for uses for it, but in the end I did none of them.  I was going to make a Christmas tree and let Elly decorate it, but it never happened.

    Today is finally the day that I put that good felt to good use!  Today I cut out 6 egg shapes, and lots and lots of decorations for it.  I am taking it into Elly's class for an Easter activity for her class.  I feel pretty good about the use of the felt and the use of my time!

    I stink at free hand cutting, so I cut out a template first, and then pinned it to the felt.  Then I cut.  I used my felt scraps to create shapes.  I had this great idea that I would use my pinking shears and create some great stripes.  The problem was that I am so disorganized that I could not find my pinking shears.

    I hope that Elly likes the eggs, and that her class does.  It took a little bit of my time, but I'm hoping that it is something that is fun for her.

        Did I mention that part of the fun of making these was making sure that everything fit?  I had to decorate a lot of eggs just to make sure that everything was just right.  No one ever accused me of being a grown up.

Our Berry Terrible Day!

    You know those moments when you just know in your heart that you are making memories?  Those moments that you congratulate yourself on your amazing parenting skills?  Oh I had one of those, and Elly quickly squashed it to a pulp.  She brought me back to reality faster than you can say "Waste of Money".

    A few months back I saw Strawberry Shortcake Live tickets on sale at The Empire Theatre.  I realized that I had taken all of the other kids to plays, but never Elly.  I felt guilty in that instant, and decided to remedy it.  I bought two tickets to Strawberry Shortcake Live.  I was congratulating myself on being a good mother, and playing fair.  I got us great seats because I bought them so early, Row F, seat 20 and 21, right on the isle.

    For months Elly would excitedly ask if it was "our special day soon".  I would smile at her excitement, yes I was a wonderful mother, and we were going to make memories.  "In March" I would tell her after I had finished congratulating myself for being such an amazing Mom, with a sickly sweet smile.  I could picture her little face just glowing as she watched the performance.  The performers would come through the isle, and would shake Elly's hand.  I could see it so clearly.  She was going to look at me with complete adoration.
    Finally after all of the anticipation, the day finally came.  The day turned out to be a little busier than I had planned, but that was o.k..  Riley had public speaking at the Legion at 12:00.  I was able to go and watch her speech, and then beetle home to get Elly ready for our big day.  I watched Riley's speech, but had to leave before they announced the results (Riley won her division, just as a side note).  I ran home frantically, feeling like a frantic, but amazing Mother.  When I got home Elly was watching T.V. all comfy in the corner of the couch.  "O.K. Big Girl, it's time for our special day!" I said with a sickeningly sweet voice (I'm pretty sure that A-M-A-Z-I-N-G mothers use those voices).  "I'm not going." says the delightful little blonde on the couch.  "This is our special day, now let's go get you dressed." My voice loosing some of it's sickly sweetness.  "NO" she says as she still lies on the couch, a defiant look on her little face.  I physically had to put her clothes on her, with her fighting me every step of the way.  There was one point that I told her that if she tried to take her socks off one more time I would murder her.  This last statement had none of the sickly sweet mother notes in it.
    I physically carried my dear little lamb to the car, with her kicking and yelling.  I fought her and won getting her belted into her seat.  Big sigh, deep breath.  I look into the rear view mirror and catch site of my little darling with her face all screwed up.  "When we get there I'm going to puke." She announces.
So now I'm looking at her with more softness in my face, that wonderful mother trying to sneak back in to replace the homicidal mother.  I bet she's not feeling well, and that's why she has been acting like a little ungrateful animal, that's what it is.  "Don't you feel well?" I ask, my voice softer with sickly sweet edges to it.  "NOPE, I HATE STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE, and she makes me puke!"  She shouts back.  It was at that point that I wondered if it was all worth it.  Maybe I should just let her win,  I mean in the end she's depriving herself.  No, I paid good money for those tickets, and DAMN IT she'll like it!
    We arrive at the theatre.  I'm trying to get her excited, met with a sour face.  "Do you want a treat maybe?" I ask her, thinking that if I bribe her this may be an alright experience after all.  "Later" she says.  We find our seats.  I congratulate myself on the great seats.  We take our jackets off and carefully place them over the backs of our seats.  "Where's my treat?" she asks.  "You said that you wanted it later." I tell her, the homicidal mother tone beginning to come out.  "But it is later." She says.  We leave our jackets and head back to the lobby, where we pay way too much money for popcorn that is too salty and kind of gross, and a semi-cold bottle of Pepsi.
    When we return to our seat, we discover that someone has chucked out jackets.  Nice, really nice.  I take out our tickets, and examine them.  I then walk up to the B*tch who chucked our jackets and inform her that I think she's sitting in our seats.  She informs me that they are her seats.  I take a deep breath.  I re-look at my ticket, only to discover that the B*tch is right, we're the next isle over.  Deep breath.  I take our jackets and carefully place them over the backs of our seats.  I then run back and get Elly a cushion to sit on.  Deep breath, "You're still a great mother, and this is going to be a memory",
I keep repeating to myself, hoping that if I say it enough I will begin to believe it.  It was shortly after this that we saw the people who would be sitting beside us... the French Honey Boo Boo.  There was not enough room to just move your legs for people to get in, so I had to physically get out of my seat to let them in, and then out, and then in, and then out, oh and then in again, oh and out.
    The opening act was the Doodle Bops.  They are energetic and fun.  I look over at Elly, thinking that she has to be smiling and enjoying herself, no, no she is not.  She is sitting there with a sullen look.  "Is this almost over?" she asked.  The urge to push her out of her seat was immense.  Then Strawberry Shortcake came out.  I look over at Elly, still sullen.  "Is this almost over?"  Deep breath.  For some reason that I do not know at children's performances, parents seem to think that they no longer have to parent their child.  Somehow if it's a children's concert, or performance it's o.k. to let your child do anything that they want.  There were little girls dressed in ball gowns, a girl dressed in a wedding dress, girls in crushed velvet with tiny crowns, all running up and down the isles.  Some of the little darlings were shouting up at the characters, trying to get their attention.  Some of them were trying to climb on stage.  Two of those were the Honey Boo Boo family that was sitting beside us, all the while their idiot mother looked lovingly at them.
    Finally the day from Hell was over.  The show was done.  I look at Elly, trying to summon a ghost of the good mother who brought her, there were no words.  "Aw, is it done already?" she asks.  "Did you like it?" I ask.  She shrugged her shoulders "Can we go home now?" she asks.  "Oh yes, we can go home now.

    Now normally at the end of my blog, I tell you what I learned, or share the silver lining, but this story does not even have a tinfoil lining.  I have learned that children do not give you what you want.  They never act the way that you think they will.  Oh and it just confirms the fact that I don't like other people's children.  Ohhh are you still waiting for those words of wisdom... there are none.

In Grandma's Little Shoes

    One of my favourite things to do on the week-end is to sleep in, but more than that, to lie in bed and just listen.  Mine is a noisy house, especially when you are in the centre of the storm.  When you can remove yourself, and just eavesdrop the noise is actually quite beautiful.  I hear their conversations.  I like to listen to the way that Christopher talks to the kids (well sometimes).  I like to listen to the kids playing together.  It really is beautiful.  I appreciate how blessed that I am when I am a little removed.

    Yesterday morning I lay in bed, in my warm and comfy bed, listening as I usually do.  There was the usual cacophony of noise, but yesterday there was a new sound.  "Clip, clip, Clap", "Clip, clip, Clap.", followed by peels of giggles.  "Daddy, do you like my high heels?" this came from Elly.  "I still can't believe that Great Grandma's shoes fit me!" this was from Riley.  I lay there listening, but found my thoughts drifting to my tiny little Grandma, and the joy she had unknowingly brought to my two little girls... and to me.

    Friday afternoon we interred my Grandmother's ashes.  She was a simple woman and did not want any fuss made.  Her children respected her wishes, and there was no fuss.  Afterwards my Aunt Paulette asked if we wanted to go back to Grandma's apartment and have some lunch.  It was very nice.  My cousins were there, and my cousin had brought one of his little girls.  After some initial shyness the kids all played together, as only children can.  Children have the gift of making strangers friends.  Their laughter could be heard throughout the apartment.  It seemed funny to be there without Grandma.  It seemed funny not to hear her funny little laugh.

    While we were there we helped Aunt Paulette box up some of Grandma's clothes.  This was a really tough job for Aunt Paulette I would have to think.  As we would take things out of the drawers we would hold up Grandma's tiny little clothes and marvel at their size.  I called my 8 year old Riley in and tried one of Grandma's shirts on her.  It was just a little too small for Riley.  When we opened up the closet we found a wall full of neatly arranged shoes.  Turns out the my Grandma had quite an impressive amount of beautiful tiny clothes and tiny little shoes.  When my two little girls caught site of all of those tiny little shoes they could not help themselves.  Both had to try them on.  It turns out that Grandma and Riley took the same size shoe.  Riley was delighted when Aunt Paulette asked if she would like to take them home.  Riley was beside herself.  Soon there was a tiny voice, faced turned up, "Aunt Paulette.... could I have some of those high heels?"  Big smile from Aunt Paulette, "Yes you can Elly."

    My Grandma was not a terribly affectionate person.  When you would hug Grandma she would stand there and allow you to hug her, but you knew that it made her uncomfortable.  It was not until the very last visit that I had with Grandma this January, that I ever received a real hug.  Dad and I had gone to Toronto for a doctor's appointment and stopped off to see Grandma on our way home.  I did not know that it would be the last time I would ever see her again.  Dad and I tried to leave for about half an hour, and every time we would say that we had to go, Grandma would start a new conversation.  Finally we got up.  When we left we hugged her good bye.  It was that very last hug that I ever received that she did not passively allow me to hug her, but she actually hugged me back, not really wanting to let me go.

    When we were helping Aunt Paulette package up Grandma's things we came across stacks of pictures.  That little woman who never really outwardly showed affection had kept every single scrap of paper, every newspaper clipping.  There was my parent's wedding invitation, my wedding invitation, my sister's wedding invitation, all looking as crisp and new as when they were first sent.  They were all there, preserved in time.  She had kept every Christmas card we had sent, every picture that we had ever sent her.  There were the envelopes that they were sent in, opened, and then collected, elastics around them.  She loved us.  She loved us, she just couldn't seem to show it.

    We left Grandma's apartment for the last time ever.  If felt strange to know that I would never visit that tiny little lady again.  We left with a garbage bag full of tiny shoes and two happy little girls.  As we drove away, I took one last look, taking it all in.  This was the last time I would ever be here.  I hadn't thought I would feel this way, but I did.  Death's finality is a funny thing.  Death sometimes makes you look at things differently.

    My house is filled with the clip clap of tiny little shoes, on tiny feet.  Shoes that my sister and I loved to put on and stomp around my Grandma's house in, until that fateful day that our feet became bigger than Grandmas.  My girls have that little connection with their Great- Grandma.  I know that my Grandma loved me, but just couldn't show it.  My Grandma was 91.  91 seems like it's old, and yet there is never enough time.  It comes back to my mantra, "Life is too short to leave things unsaid."  Don't put off it off, because you never know if you will get that second chance.

    

Motherhood For First Time Older Moms

    Motherhood is a beautiful gift, but a beautiful gift that does not always come easily to everyone.  Motherhood is not an equal opportunity employer.  There are times that I look at the mothers who are doing a terrible job, the ones who have no right to be recipients of that gift.  You know the mothers who have countless children, all of them underfed, dirty, with little hope for the future.  You wonder why.  Why can these women who should not even have a hamster been given such a miraculous gift, when they obviously do not respect this calling.  Then there are the women who would make wonderful mothers, the ones who want nothing more than to be a mother, and these women are cruelly denied.  Motherhood is not an equal opportunity employer.

    I know women who have struggled with infertility.  They have spent thousands of dollars on infertility treatments only to have their heart broken again and again.  They watch their girlfriends pushing that coveted stroller, while they have to pretend to be happy for them.  I cannot imagine how difficult and painful that must be.  Actually I can imagine because I had a tiny glimpse of that.

Christopher and I had just gotten back together.  We decided to make Gabe a big brother.  Fertility was never really a problem for us.  As soon as we decided that I should be pregnant I was pregnant.  We were over the moon delighted.  We were back together, and were beginning our new life.  Everything was wonderful until the spotting started.  Miscarriages happened to other people, it could not happen to me I foolishly thought.  I miscarried at two and a half months.  I was devastated.  I would torture myself and walk into the baby section of the stores.  I would see other women with baby strollers and would burst into tears.  The worst was when we were at a function and one of our friends was pregnant.  She was due at the same time that I was supposed to be.  She was so delighted.  This was her first baby.  She was glowing.  She had that beautiful baby bump, but all I could see was what I wanted.  She had my dream.  I was so angry.  That was supposed to me!  I was supposed to be showing!  How dare she be at this event pregnant! ( I did not say that I was rational.  Grief is not always rational).  I spent most of that night in the bathroom crying.  My pain ended when I became pregnant with Grace, but I never forgot that pain.  I then felt immense guilt when the reverse happened to me.  A very close friend and I were pregnant at the same time.  It was when I was pregnant with Grace.  We were due at the same time.  I could see us playing with our babies together, and then she lost that baby.  I felt so guilty whenever I would see her, and I was so big with baby.  I remembered how that felt.  I saw the tears in her eyes the first time that she laid eyes on my Gracie, I knew that she could not see my gift, but the gift that she had been denied.  I hope that time has helped to heal her wounds.

    A little while back I shared an article that was written by an old schoolmate of mine.

http://themiddleagedwomanwholivedinashoe.blogspot.ca/2012/05/mothers-day-for-women-who-would.html

At the time that I wrote that blog, and she wrote that article she was infertile.  Two days ago she became a mother.  Her baby is beautiful.  A few days ago my sister's childhood best friend also became a mother for the first time.  These are women who have been denied this beautiful gift of motherhood for a long time, watching friends with their children.  They are in for a wonderful experience.  They will treasure every single thing that baby does because they will know it for the gift that it is.

    I was 38 when I had Elly.  I had known multiple miscarriages, I had known loosing a child.  I had known despair.  Because I had known such despair, I was able to see Elly for the amazing gift that she was.  Everything she did was a miracle to me.  I was not new to motherhood, but I saw if differently.  When I had Gabe I was 23, a month away from 24.  I loved that baby boy.  I was young.  I saw motherhood as a right not as a gift.  Don't get me wrong, I was as good of a mother as I could be for a first time mother, but I saw the world differently, with innocent eyes.  At 38 I saw Elly as the miracle that she was truly was.  I knew that she should not exist, and yet she was our gift.

    To these new mothers, who are embarking upon the adventure-hood of motherhood older, but maybe wiser I say congratulations.  You are in for the most wonderful and difficult adventure of your lives. Your lives will never be the same, they will be better.  Your beautiful unlined faces that look so much younger than your years are about to become wrinkled (just like the rest of us).  You will get wrinkles from laughter, and you will get wrinkles from worry.  If you are doing your job right, you will worry about everything.  Is she getting enough to eat?  Should she be talking yet?  Why doesn't she have friends?  Should I be worried about that fever?  Am I overprotecting her?  Oh my friends you will worry.  You will worry and you will laugh and smile like you have never felt joy before.  You are in for the greatest adventure of your life.

The Monumental Task Of Organizing My Laundry Room

    I pride myself on my honesty in this blog.  Some may rightfully argue that I am brutally honest (as I am in life, not just this blog).  I want to write the way that I live my life.  I am not perfect, ohhhhh very far from.  I am however trying. Everyday I am trying to make a better life for myself and my family.  There are days that I do better, there are days that I do worse.  I am a loving mother and a semi-loving wife (it depends on the kind of day I'm having and how much my husband has bugged me that day).  I am not a natural born housekeeper.  I would love a clean house, but am unwilling / unable to put the effort forward.  Actually I would like to wake up in the morning and find that house cleaning fairies have struck and my house is immaculate.  I think the opposite might actually be true.  I am pretty sure that the dump fairies visit my house and proceed to turn the house upside down, generously sprinkling the whole thing with dirt and garbage.

    What makes the whole mess thing all the worse is the fact that our house is roughly the size of a shoe box.  Add to that the fact that we have way too much of everything (and that includes kids).  I am convinced the secret to my house being clean is organization.  I sound like a deranged broken record constantly saying to Christopher "We need to organize every single inch of this house."  I am convinced that the key rooms are the laundry room and the basement.  I have said this and have said this, but never acted on it.  I have a huge "board" filled with "organizational" ideas on my Pinterest.  I am inspired, but generally not enough to act on it.  ALL OF THIS HAS CHANGED!

http://www.imperfecthomemaking.com/

    I began to clean that awful mess of a laundry room first.  I had visions of it looking like something from a magazine.  Something like the above picture that I stole from Kelly and her blog "The Complete Guide To Imperfect Homemaking".  Kelly is a local girl who has more children than I do, and they are all younger than mine, and yet she has a gorgeous, tidy home (at least in the pictures that she shows on her blog).  To say that I am envious is an understatement!  I really recommend that you click the link I have included and check out Kelly's blog.  My finished product does not look anything like Kelly's.  It is just really the first stage.  It turns out organizational products are not inexpensive.  I decided to get a little at a time.

    I am really happy with the way that the laundry room turned out.  It's not something out of a magazine, but neither is the rest of my house.  I am crossing my fingers that it will work the way that I want it to.  The main function of the laundry room now is of coarse laundry, but it also acts as a mud room now and a pantry.  In the past the kid's jacket's lined the stairs going to the basement making it unsafe.  Their boots and hats and mittens clogged the entry to the house, making it dangerous around the stairs, and embarrassing if anyone came in.  The heating register was so stacked with wet mittens that no heat could come into the kitchen.

My After Shot

    My "after" is not pretty, but it is going to make life easier, and isn't that what it's all about?  I just have to re-train the kids to take their boots off at the side door and carry them to the laundry room.  It sounds easy, but well, we'll see.    

My after shot

My before shot

    The above addition to the laundry room is the thing that I am most proud of.  It's a shoe rack.  I had to go to several stores to find this shoe rack, and it was not inexpensive... but it does exactly what I want it to.  Now the kids can put their wet mittens on the shoe rack and they will dry.  More than that, (if I can train them to do it), if they put their mittens on the rack when they get home, we will have no more school mornings with children frantically looking for their mittens.

    I am really happy with my hard work, and let me tell you that it was hard work.  Every time I walk past the laundry room I get a goofy smile on my face.  I now want to organize the rest of the house.  The room is still a store all, but now it's a tidy store all.  It's a mud room, it stores my cleaning supplies, it has the sheets for my room, extra bedding, it's a pantry, oh that tiny space is many, many things.  What that space is no longer, is a mess, and that makes me happy.  

Lottery Ticket - $3.00 Worth Of Hope

    Last week we took the family out to Red Lobster.  Not a cheap dinner... but sometimes you have to live a little.  At Red Lobster Rowan ordered root beer that came in a "beer" looking bottle.  He was sooooo excited.  He felt like a man.  It's weird because neither Christoper or I drink beer on a regular basis (for me it's never because beer makes me want to Ralph), for that matter we don't really drink period.  So Rowan sat at dinner feeling like a big man taking swigs of his root beer out of a beer looking bottle.  After we were done he asked if he could take it home, why not.  You would have thought that plastic bottle was a security blanket.  He has now convinced himself that it is a "lucky" bottle.  That's what he calls it "my lucky bottle".  Poor little crazy kid.

    One of Rowan's friends is going to Disney World this March Break.  This made the desire to return to that magical place all the stronger for him.  Almost everyday "when can we go back to Disney World?", my response "I don't know Bud, it's a pretty expensive trip.", his little face falls.  "If I won a thousand dollars could we go then?" he asks, never loosing that obsessive chain of thought in his head.  "No buddy, it costs more than a thousand dollars to go."  He looks shocked, to him a thousand dollars is pretty much the most money in the whole world.  "Could we buy a lottery ticket Mom?"  "We could, but we never win." I reply keeping my face cheerful but inwardly rolling my eyes.  "But Mom, I have my lucky bottle now.  I blew into my lucky bottle before school today, and my team won at soccer."  To him this is perfect logic.  "Mom, please can you buy a lottery ticket.... I know that we will win!"  Here's the thing, generally I am guided by logic.  I consider myself to be an intelligent woman.  I know all of this, an yet there is also that ridiculously superstitious part to me that I try to suppress on a daily basis. "What if he has a sixth sense about this?  What if we could win the lottery?" these are the thoughts that creep into my brain that I try to use rationally. I send Christopher out to the convenience store for a lottery ticket... just in case, I mean it's only $3.00 right?

     That night I went up to tuck the kids in and kiss them goodnight.  "Did you get the lottery ticket Mom?"  "Yes Rowan, Daddy got a lottery ticket".  "I can't wait to see Zack's face when he sees us at Disney World on March Break!"  He smiles a contented little smile, and settles into his bed, a happy little crazy boy.  I shake my head and smile at his certainty.  I hope that he's not too disappointed when we don't win.  Part of me feels like by buying into this, we are encouraging him to be unrealistic.  The next morning he woke up and asked if we'd won.  "The draw is on Saturday night Bud." I am trying to be patient, but it is an effort.

    Yesterday afternoon Christopher was home.  We sat in our chairs enjoying coffee.  We were talking about how obsessed Rowan is with the lottery ticket.  Christopher then asks "I know that we won't win..." Oh God he's caught our son's craziness.  " but if by some crazy chance we won the 13 million, what would be the first thing that you would buy?"  I don't even have to think about this one, he knows that.  "An RV!"   I tell him.  We then start talking crazy talk.  We talk about what we would do if we won.  Let me point out that this is the first lottery ticket that we have purchased in at least ten years.  I try to be a realist, and yet that fantasy is too rich and fun not to talk about.  We begin talking about the trips we would take, the home improvements we would make.  Would he quit his job or not.  Oh we would donate a large amount of money to local worth while charities.  We should bank half of the money, and after the initial fun only spend the interest.  Oh we talked and talked.

    I know that we are not going to win 13 million dollars.  I know this, and yet it's fun to fantasize about it.  It's fun to play pretend, to imagine a world where we did not have to worry about money.  We wasted $3.00.  We wasted $3.00, and yet is it a waste to pay $3.00 for hope?  That's what we are really buying is hope.  It is the hope of easier times.  The hope of wonderful things to come.  I'll let you know tomorrow if I'm a millionaire.

Sliding Off The Wagon

    Well I've fallen off the wagon.  Maybe not a full fall, more like I slightly slid off the wagon.  You may recall my New Year's resolution to take better care of myself.  A large part of that was to begin counting calories.  No not a diet, a change.  I have done without nothing, I have just been counting my calories and trying to sensible.  The main thing that I have done is to drastically reduce my Coke intake.  I LOVE Coke!  For me it is liquid pleasure.  I love the way it burns my throat with it's sweetness when I chug it.  Oh I love it, and it loves me, it loves me so much that it wants to stick around in the form of fat.  I have cut back on my Coke intake, one a day.  I so savor that beautiful gold at night after the kids are tucked into bed.  For me nothing will stall weight loss, or really anything more than that feeling of being deprived.

    I've been diligently counting calories.  The first two weeks I did not loose a single ounce.  I was a little discouraged, but I was doing this for my health, so I could just wait this out, there is no race.  On week three I lost 2 pounds.  Each week after that I lost 2 pounds.    I was so excited.  Immediately being me, I began to long- term forecast my weight loss.  Oh in my head I was imagining myself thin and golden walking down the isle for our renewal.  In my head everyone would turn to the person that they were sitting beside and whisper "Oh My God she looks Great!")  I was so excited... and then I hit the wall.  I would hop on the scale and see no change, or a weight increase.  My weight would fluctuate by two to 4 pounds.. each day.  That just wasn't possible.  I thought it was my scale, so I bought a new scale.  The new scale did the same thing, so it was not the scale.  At the beginning of this month my life became stressful and I decided that it was just to stressful to worry about counting calories.  I have not done my usual however.  In the past this would have been permission to throw myself back into my old habits.  In the past this would have been permission to STOP.  This would have been permission to just give up, it obviously wasn't working, just give up.  I haven't.  I haven't been as strict, but I haven't thrown it all away either.

    I have decided to stay the course.  I'm going to go back onto the counting of calories, add in some exercise   If I slide off the wagon, that's o.k., I will just hop back on.  This is not a race, its a journey (maybe if I tell myself this often enough I will really believe it).  Sure I would love to see some quick results.  I'd love to loose like 20 pounds in the first month, but I'm realistic.  I'm not willing to stop everything I love because then I will not stick with it.  Being over weight did not happen in a month.  It took me years to perfect this kind of weight gain.  It's realistically going to take a while to take it off, and not have elephant skin.

    When I first began this resolution I was drinking water.  Plain boring water.  Did I mention that I HATE water?  I then decided to add slices of lemon.  That way I'm getting vitamins and some taste.  Lemon water has helped me to keep to my Coke once a day rule.  Lemon has made the water drinkable.  To help myself and to prevent excuses I buy my lemons wash them and then slice them all up and put them in a Tupperware container in the fridge.  This works out great, lemons on demand. 

    Last night I decided to up my game.  I lined a cookie sheet with parchment paper, and then laid my lemon slices on the cookie sheet.  I then flash froze them, and transfered them into a Tupperware container.  My thinking was that it was instant ice, but it had an even better side effect.  By freezing them it made the lemon taste stronger.  There was however one slight problem that I had overlooked.  The frozen lemon slice did not fit into my glass.  Solution.. simply break it in half (next time I will slice them in half before freezing them).

   

   So as is the case in every aspect of my life, nothing is simple.  I could not simply reduce calories and loose weight, oh no there has to be some secret formula that I have to spend hours to discover.  As is also the case in my life, I am too stubborn to take no for an answer.  When I get pushed down, I get back up (some may rightfully argue this is because I am too stupid to stay down and simply lick my wounds).  I am not having instant success at this weight loss game, but as I have already mentioned, I did not instantly put the weight on.  It's time for a change, and change does not come easy, not for me at least.  I'm going to keep plugging along, success or not.

I'M TIRED OF WINTER!

    I'M TIRED OF WINTER! (make sure read this in a whiny voice and stamp your foot). I'm tired of being cold.  I'm tired of it taking 20 minutes for the kids to get ready to go outside.  I'm tired of stupid snow! I've still got a month of this stupid snow, and two months of cold weather...grrrrrrr.
    I guess I'm feeling so bitter because this time last year we were not even thinking about the snow because we were preparing for our trip to Florida.  I want to be preparing for a big fun trip to Florida!  I want to go on vacation!  I think I might be getting a little cabin fever.  I would like to pack my bags and go away some where fun.  I find that I need that.  I don't really need the big hurrah of a big fancy vacation (although that is pretty nice).  I more like the just running away from life.  I find that if I can just get that little break from reality then it's like a big breath of fresh air.  My head becomes more clear, I become revitalized.
    I think that I need to plan a mini vacation!



    Now that I've done all of that whining.... I want to remind you that this blog is not just my blog.  I am the writer, I write about my life, but you read it, that makes it your's too.  You and your kind comments make me love to write.  This blog is about you too.  If there is something that you think that I really need to try, or there's something that I've written about and you want to find out more about it, let me know.