Friday Morning Mayhem

Friday morning was worse than any Monday by a long shot. Looking back now, it's pretty comical, which is why I'm writing it down for your amusement. I should explain that Monday through Thursday I am at work at 6:50am and the C-man takes the kids to school. My work is done once I get the kids out of bed, get them started on their breakfast and give them the usual reminders we moms don't trust the dads to remember: "Brush your teeth! Your backpack is right here, snack in the front pocket!" My husband is not an idiot, so I don't really know why I feel the need to give the same reminders every day, but let's face it - moms and dads have different priorities, so I need to make sure the kids get to school relatively clean and orderly. And so it goes throughout the week. Until Friday.

Friday is my morning of bliss. I get to sleep a bit later, get to drop the kids off at school - a task I really do enjoy - and arrive at work a bit later, feeling rested and ready for a busy day. Wait a minute, am I dreaming? That's how Fridays are supposed to go. They don't always. A few Fridays ago I had gone into the living room in the middle of the night so I could get some sleep. The C-man is not a fun person to share the bed with - he tosses and turns and even kicks his legs up and down on the mattress like he's running a marathon. All while sleeping peacefully. So I choose the couch. But I digress... This Friday several weeks ago C-man decides to get up early - about 5:30 - which never happens. He came into the living room and woke me up to ask if I were oversleeping. Very considerate of him. Really. I quite politely ask him to remember that Friday is my one day to sleep in. He apologizes and moves into the kitchen. Our kitchen and living room are only separated by a half-wall, so it's all open. He proceeds to grind coffee. And grind it, and grind it, and grind it. Whrrrrrr, whrrrr... Whrrrrr! Whrrrrr!!

Whrrrrrrrr!!!!!!

Every time I thought he was done he would do it again. I honestly thought, 'If I cram it up his behind will it keep whirring??? At least it would be muffled...' He got a good wifely evil glare and I moved into the bedroom, where it was impossible for me to go back to sleep due to my seething. We had a little talk about my Friday mornings, and I had a run of about three Fridays that were wonderful. Then, a few days ago, my Friday bliss broke down altogether.....

Things were going so well that morning - I got up at 5:45, which is a bit late for me. I took HRV's school folder out and took out yesterday's papers. That's when I found her homework. The homework she told me she didn't have. I woke her up and gave her a few minutes to get up and get going. When I presented her with her homework, she commenced to pitching the fit. Wailing and moaning, flailing her arms, throwing her body on the floor - all over three minutes worth of homework. I was very patient and kind - after all, it was Friday! My good day! - until her flailing arms caused me to get stabbed with her sharp pencil. Oooo, that hurt! At this point I was steaming mad and tired of the fit. I finally got her to finish the work and get dressed. I barely got them out the door on time, but no worries - I saved a good 5 minutes by throwing a couple of muffins at them and telling them to eat in the car. I'm so smart!!

Off to school we go, arriving first at the elementary school. HRV hops out and the principal and teachers wave hello. Kisses and hugs and promises to bring home a "G" for the day, and WMV gets out to climb into the front seat. That's when I saw it.

W. had sat on his muffin.

His chocolate muffin - yes, that's right, chocolate - muffin had been squashed and smeared all over the butt of his khaki shorts. "W!!! You sat in chocolate!!!" I shrieked. Behind me I could here the teachers laugh - they all have kids, too. Now I'm losing my mind. "Get in the car!" I cry. We pull away and W. is saying, "I'm sorry, Mom, I'm sorry!" and I'm ranting and raving, "How did this even happen? How do you get half a muffin underneath your bottom while you're strapped in and sitting down??? How? HOW???" Now he's almost crying. "I don't know, Mom, I'm sorry!" I'm trying to calm down, but it's very, very difficult. We're racing back toward the house and I'm trying to figure out what to do. You see, WMV only had one pair of clean uniform shorts. Why would he need another? It's Friday! I explain his options: a clean pair that's a bit too small or a dirty pair that fits just right. He opts for the small pair, followed by a tangle of shorts and shoes and I'm snatching the shorts off of him with a bottle of Spray 'n Wash in my hand. I'm begging him to hurry, and evaluating the shorts - are they too small to wear? He assures me they're fine, so we sprint back to the car. It's now 7:31 and I'm due at work at 7:30. *Sigh*

Okay, so I'm late. I'm the boss, so who's going to yell at me, right? But I have this thing about being late - it's almost OCD in it's intensity for me. Nothing stresses me out more than being late. I worked one job for 8 years and was only late ONCE. I still remember that day... I'm digressing again...

I finally arrive at the middle school and drop off the boy. I smile and tell him it's all okay, I love him and I know accidents happen. I am successfully squashing the urge to push him out of the car and mow down the car rider traffic director in my attempt to get to work. I'm already late - adding a felony will do nothing to improve the situation. At long last I pull away and am headed to work.

That's when the gas light came on. I'm looking forward to Monday morning. I'm not sure my nerves can take another Friday.

Push Ups

I've started doing push ups. I used to do 50 of them every morning, and man, did I ever have some beautiful arms! Very defined, but not overly muscular, slender, tan - I loved my arms. I used to even have people comment on my wonderful, strong arms. Now... not so much. The fabulous is now flabulous - my arms are jiggly and saggy and, well, just plain yuk. But all that is changing.

With the help of my children, I am keeping track of my progress by using a sticker chart. I really don't need the stickers, but my kids love them they are reminding me every morning to do my push ups. I can't let them down, so dutifully I drop to the floor and do my allotted amount. I started with 15. After the first day, my entire rib cage area felt like I had been beaten with a bat. I've been doing some crunches, too, and my lower stomach was BURNING!! But I felt good - not hurting, just pleasantly sore. This morning I upped it to 18. Now that almost killed me, but I persevered and did them. By next week I'm hoping to be up to 20.

What surprised me is how inadequate I felt. "Only 15 push ups!" I moaned on Monday. "I'm pathetic!" My friend TT answered "MAN push ups???" Now I have lived in the south for 11 years now, but I am by no means a southern belle. My feminist side growled like a bear when I heard her say "Man push ups." I mean, really - push ups are only done one way, or they're not push ups. And women can do them just as well as a man. So yes, TT, I did MAN push ups. She assured me there was no way she could do even 10 - maybe not even 10"girl" push ups (I'm growling again!). Other people - even one of my guy friends!! - said they couldn't do 10. So I started feeling better about the 15. But when I write it - 18 push ups - it sounds so weenie. But I'm working hard and doing my best, and as long as that is true, I am happy. Maybe 6 months from now when my arms are remarkable again I'll post a picture!

The Well-Intentioned Saboteur

Warnings are often given to the dieter: watch out for those who will try to sabotage your diet! I always thought that was a bit silly - who would deliberately try to screw up a good, healthy thing? Then I realized - it's not deliberate, but it is sabotage for sure.

My husband is a sweet, wonderful, kind, and considerate man (okay, okay, it's the same guy in a previous post I threatened to rip his head off and shove flowers down his neck. That was a bad day...). Seriously, despite a few faults - and don't we all have a faults? - the C-man is a terrific husband. He often does nice things for me, which I love and appreciate. But sometimes... those nice little gestures are sabotage city!

Yesterday I was in the shower getting ready for church, thinking about the fellowship dinner that would follow the service. I was making plans to skip the 50 different pasta and potato salads and go right for the green salads. I came out of the shower and smelled it. Bacon. Oh my. But it's okay, the kids can have some bacon and I'll shut the bedroom door and get dressed. A good plan, eh? Too bad my husband greeted me with my very own plate of bacon and a fried egg along with buttered toast. Sigh. See, here it is - the sabotage. And yet, unintentional. So sweet, so kind and thoughtful, and yet... gulp... oh the fat and calories! But I ate it. I ate every bite. I know, I know, I've read the articles that say, "Tell your husband, 'Thank you, sweetie, I really appreciate your kindness, but I am going to stick to my diet and pass on this plate of food!'" Clearly this article was written by a single woman who keeps wondering why she's not married. I could have said something along those lines - I could have hurt C-man's feelings, felt guilty about it, then eaten twice as much as the guilt overcame me causing me to go an emotional roller coaster of an eating binge. Well, maybe it wouldn't have been that dramatic! But you see where I am going with this - when the C-man goes out of his way to do something nice for me, I respond by being gracious and accepting because I love him.

So where did I go wrong? I could have done a few things differently and still been gracious and kind. I could have eaten half of everything. I could have eaten only the egg then shared the bacon with the children - they would have loved it! And yes, I could have been mature and honest and told C-man that the plate of food he had just cooked was doing nothing for my self-control so please take it away! But again, I just can't help but show appreciation when he does something nice for me. Spineless? You betcha. Happily married? Oh, yeah.

So what can you do when that well-intentioned saboteur crosses your path? Try to identify the problem before it arrives - C-man hardly ever gets up before I do and therefore hardly ever cooks breakfast for me, so this caught be a bit unaware. But I know for next time to eat half the food, or skip the bacon - I have a plan. If your husband, mother, friend, co-worker repeatedly offers you food, dessert, drinks, etc., come up with your own plan to jump that hurdle. Handle it with humor, with grace, with a few good avoidance techniques - whatever works for you and your situation. But be as prepared as possible and when someone throws one at you unexpectedly - do your best and remember: tomorrow is another day.

Homemade Tortilla Chips and Hummus

Crunchy and salty - what a combo. I love anything that's crunchy and salty, but alas, most food that falls into that category is not the wisest choice for someone trying to slim down. I recently decided to try to make my own tortillas and hummus so I could have healthy, yummy snack that's also - you guessed it - crunchy and salty. I am pleased to say my attempt turned out delicious, satisfying, and delightfully healthy.

Hummus is one of my favorite foods - I make it from time to time but find it hard to control my portions, since I love it so much. This time I've decided to package it in smaller containers and eat it as a meal instead of a snack - I can have more and it's still a good, healthy meal. If you look around the Internet you can find all kinds of recipes. Many people like their hummus with roasted red peppers or calamata olives - go with what you like, but keep in mind the olives add quite a bit of salt. To make it a la Chef Kim, take a can of chick peas (AKA garbanzo beans) and drain. Throw them in a food processor or blender with several cloves of garlic (I like a LOT of garlic - the flavor is pretty strong, so add a little then taste. Add a little more, and taste...). Squirt in a bit of lemon juice and voila - hummus! Easy, right? Sometimes I add a little olive oil, too, if I'm looking for a creamier blend. Again, it's all about going with what you like.

To make the tortilla chips, you can either buy the soft tortillas or make them from scratch. As tempted as I was to make them from scratch, I had to opt for the store bought ones. There's just so much I can do! There are a few from which to choose - corn, flour, whole wheat, low carb... watch the low carb ones, though - they have artificial sweetener in them. Don't even get me started on artificial sweetener! I chose the whole wheat ones in the hopes they would keep me fuller longer. Take the tortillas and cut them with a pizza cutter into 6-8 wedges. Lay them on a cookie sheet and brush lightly with olive oil (I used an olive oil spray and it worked really well). Sprinkle on a touch of salt (I love sea salt) and bake in the oven at 350. Keep a close eye on them as they tend to burn pretty quickly, but they take about 6 minutes. I ate some while they were still warm and they were amazingly good. I'm getting excited about making some homemade pico de gallo - another one of my good-for-you faves.

Hope you enjoy!