Fat Tuesdays are Back!

The longest 2 weeks of my life have finally passed.  Actually, I'm being dramatic.  The 14 days of clean eating and drinking did not drag by as slowly as I had expected.  Now that Charming and I can once again build up our chip supply without guilt, a few questions remain.

Results?  Have you seen that commercial where the husband and wife both try to lose weight and the husband sheds pounds like magic while the wife stays the same?  I think it's an ad for a diet pill.  Or for e-harmony.  Anyway, that's pretty much what happened.  I don't have a picture to illustrate this statement (and I do not recommend googling "fat wife skinny husband" images) so here's one that doesn't relate:

Cupcake loves this picture.  "Mama!  Daddy!  Aw!  Cute!  Daddy cute!"

On the first day of the challenge, I weighed myself.  We don't own a scale (I wonder if someone would accept my iron as a trade for one?) so I weigh in at the grocery store, which necessitates the wearing of clothes and shoes.  I've debated a while, and can't come up with a good reason not to share the actual number: 129.5.  I realize, of course, that my horror of horrors number is the same as another person's dreamy of dreaminess number, but please don't hold that against me.  When I delivered Cupcake, I weighed 136.  This number is the highest I've seen when I've stood on a scale as just one person; not weighing for two.  Charming, too, had put on some weight after we got married.  You've heard of the Freshman 15?  I think there's also a Newlywed 19.  However, after running consistently for a little over a year, he had lost many of those extra pounds, and was happy(ish) with his weight.  He kept forgetting to step on a scale until the end of the 2 week challenge, so his weight loss is from when he last weighed himself in early December.  11 pounds!  I lost 2.5.  I knew I wasn't going to shed a year's worth of late-night fried food snacks and 52 Tuesdays' worth of tacos in two weeks, but I must admit, past experiences had me hoping for a bigger jump start in the direction of my goal weight.  It's just another reminder that I'm not 22, and how unforgiving women's bodies are as we age.

Process?  Charming and I both held up pretty well throughout the challenge.  No candy, no chip snacks, no* alcohol, breakfast every day, and significantly smaller portions for our meals.  Neither of us experienced any ill effects from the deprivation of our usual sugar, fat, and alcohol intake.  We both tried some of the Shakeology stuff, and reached the conclusion that it will not be a regular addition to our diet.

Lessons Learned?  The most meaningful and surprising lesson I learned was that I actually do have willpower!  Ice cream in the freezer, a huge bag full of Halloween and Christmas candy, a couple of beers, and an open bag of chips, all were left untouched by me!  I know, I do things that are difficult for some people (like run double digit miles) and it might seem obvious that I have willpower because I get up early to run or go to the gym.  However, those are activities I enjoy.  Yeah, it's difficult sometimes to crawl out of the warm, cozy bed to run in the cold, dark, morning, but I do so because I want to, not because I feel like I need to.  This diet challenge was different.  I wanted to feel healthier, lose weight, and set a good example for Rip Claw and Cupcake; I didn't want to deny myself the pleasures of candy, beer, tacos and chips.  I was quite proud to discover that I can, indeed, make difficult changes that will be beneficial in the long term.

Guiltless homemade chicken tacos with quinoa on the side.

I also learned that:

• The absence of alcohol does not equal the absence of migraine headaches.  Boo.  
• Eating breakfast, 2 healthy snacks, lunch and dinner does satisfy my hunger.  
• I don't need a second helping to feel full; I need to eat more slowly and let my body do the work it is designed to do.  
• Based on the amount of time I spent each day thinking about pizza, I think research should be performed to determine whether it is an addictive substance.  
• It's easier to be bright eyed and bushy tailed at 5:30 a.m. if I haven't had that glass of wine the night before.  
• Preparing healthy meals and snacks in advance and in bulk makes it much easier to make healthy choices.  
• I don't necessarily need motivation and support from a coach or health professional.  Making the commitment is more important than following the exact plan, in my experience. 

Now what?  As you may have realized, this 2 week challenge did not produce life-, body-, or fit-of-clothes- changing results for me, but I didn't really expect that it would.  I did happen to read some articles about dieting during the challenge, and was able to confirm what I already knew: a long-term commitment to eating a healthy diet and staying active is the best bet for getting and maintaining your ideal weight.  The things that Charming and I learned during the clean eating challenge have inspired us to make some permanent changes.  We will keep eating breakfast, keep our portion sizes on the smaller side of reasonable, and stay active.  We will buy and consume fewer bags of chips each week.  We will buy and consume fewer alcoholic drinks each week.  We will close our ears to the siren call of the candy and ice cream, at least most of the time.  Perhaps most important, Taco Tuesday will be a treat, not a lifestyle.  

*Full disclosure: Charming had 3 drinks during the two weeks, I had 2.  We also ate enchiladas and apple pie at his parents' house 2 days before the challenge ended.

The Last Enchilada

So long, dear friend.  See you in a while. :(

I'm about to do something I've never done before in all the years I can remember.  I have committed myself to a Clean Eating Challenge.  Me.  Mrs. I don't have to try to lose weight.  Mrs. Bucker of trends.  Mrs. I can button my jeans.  One of those links may have been a test to see whether or not you click on them. The truth is, my jeans don't button without a lot of breath-holding, these days.  I have some bad habits, which started to catch up with me as soon as I stopped running after my stress fracture.  There was no cost to commit to this challenge, and although I know being coached through a detox-ish diet-type thing like this via social media goes a teensy bit against what I've said before, I've accepted the fact that I do need to change some things.

Charming agreed (voluntarily!) to accept the challenge with me, so for the next two weeks, our diet will consist of all gross food and nothing delicious.  Okay, I know that isn't true.  Actually, I do cook healthy meals most of the time.  We eat a lot of vegetables, fruits, and lean proteins.  We don't keep soda in the house, and rarely eat fast food.  We do eat tacos from Tijuana Flats every single Tuesday.  My sister says our lives revolve around TF's Taco Tuesdaze promo, which is only partly true.  Only our Tuesdays revolve around it.  But still, it shouldn't be a problem to indulge one night each week with a soda, tortilla chips, and a couple of shells filled with juicy meat, crispy lettuce, lots of cheese, crunchy onions, seeds-removed jalapenos, briny black olives, fresh tomatoes and a generous drizzle of jalapeno hot sauce.  The problem lies with what happens after our other healthy, balanced, appropriately portioned meals.  Chips.  Chips.  Lots and lots of chips.  We eat a shameful amount of chips.  Go on.  Get a mental picture of a "shameful" amount of chips.  I bet you imagined low.  I won't exaggerate and say that our chip habit keeps Frito-Lay in business, but I will tell you that I calculated how much money we could save by cutting the chips from our grocery bill, and the number fell right between "embarrassing" and "nauseating."

It seems contradictory to tell myself (and others) that I'm passionate about health and fitness and doing what I can to maintain both, when all the while I'm giving in to every food that cries, "Eat me!" I don't believe that cutting out all sugar, all fat, all carbs, or all meat is a good way to go.  But I can't deny that eliminating all the super-processed, deep fried, nutritionally void foods will be of benefit to me.  I don't need the leftover holiday candy.  I don't need ice cream.  I don't need beer.  I'm pretty sure that I've passed the point in my life wherein I can indulge in those things without consequences to my body.

Cheers!  No adult beverages for 14 days!

So, here's the plan:  Coach Jasmine will provide recipes, online motivation, workout guides, de-stressing yoga poses, and all the Shakeology a person can drink.  (I've never tried Shakeology.  I really dislike drinking anything that comes from a blender, unless it is, like, peppermint-chocolate flavored vodka with vanilla ice cream and brownie chunks.  I also tend to gag on things made with powder, except when I've mixed a hot chocolate packet into a cup of coffee and added some toffee flavored creamer.  So, I'm not too eager to try the shakes, but we'll see how things go.)  Those of us participating in the challenge are responsible for eating 3 "clean" meals and 2 healthy snacks each day, and drinking lots of water.  We are to abstain from alcohol, processed foods, and lethargy.  We are encouraged to share our successes and shortfalls, to post pictures, and to track our workouts online for all to see.

Day 1.  Whose jeans do you think are happier: mine, or Alessandra Ambrosio's?  I think mine are under an awful lot of stress, and that can't be good.

I don't actually plan to cook any different, except that I'll not be taking Tuesdays off from my kitchen duties.  On the menu for tonight is spaghetti.  I made a big batch of my vegetable-chocked sauce last month and put some in the freezer.  Today, I just have to heat the sauce and cook some whole grain pasta, and throw together some salads.  Tuesday, I'll make tacos (surprise!) with chicken breasts instead of ground beef and with more vegetables than cheese.

You know what's cool?  You can join, too!  The internet is wonderfully inclusive like that.  You don't necessarily have to change in every way the challenge suggests, either.  You could be like me, and just push yourself to break your worst habit(s).  I would love to hear about it, whatever you do!  Wait-- unless it's eating at Tijuana Flats and gorging yourself on chips.  I can do without your telling me those things.

6 Things About Which I'm Embarrassed to be Embarrassed

I hope I'm not the only one who gets embarrassed about embarrassing things.  If I am, I guess this is as good a way to find out as any.  At least the folks telling me what a freak I am will have read and commented on my blog in order to communicate their superiority, so that's cool.  Here we go!

1. I'm embarrassed to accept help from retail employees.

"Can I help you find anything?"  

"Oh, no thank you."  I'll just wander the aisles until I find what I'm looking for, thanks.

It's ridiculous.  Having the guy who works in the garden department at the vast home improvement store point me in the direction of the hose nozzles is not a sign of weakness.  

"I'll take these groceries out to your car for you."

"That's alright, I've got it, thanks!" It's raining, I have both kids, and a week's worth of food.

I repeat: ridiculous.  Like I'm going to be such a burden on the guy who bagged my groceries, having him take 4 minutes to put the bags in my car?  Speaking of groceries, I've yet to work up the courage to ask the ever-so-friendly man who works in the meat department whether or not they'll make chicken wings less disgusting for me (Did you know that you have to cut through bone, and, like, twist and snap body parts in order for them to be ready to cook?  Blech.) so that we can smoke some and serve them at our 4th of July party.  Now, I worked in the service industry for a LOT of years.  My first job was in a fast-food restaurant.  I certainly do not feel like I'm superior to retail employees in any way...but I might be better than some of them at some things.  

You do the math.

Maybe that's why I'm embarrassed to accept their friendly offers to aid me.  I figure they work hard enough already, and deal with enough nasty people, that I should give them a break.

2. I'm embarrassed when people compliment me on my running achievements.

"Wow!  You're getting really fast!"

"Ha!  Me?  Pshaw.  Ha!  Ffff-ast?  Funny!  Huh?  No.  Um.  Thank you?

Or

"Not as fast as YOU!  HA!"

The truth is, I'm much faster than I used to be.  I'm much faster than people who don't run regularly.  I'm faster than I expected I ever would be (Remember how I HATED running?).  I've earned medals.  And when I say "earned", I mean it.  I've trained and sacrificed and could have drowned in my own sweat and tried-really, truly, tried- to get faster and to accomplish goals that I've set for myself.  I feel like I have to explain when people notice my improvement; give details on my schedule and training plan and those asterisks that we runners know so well (*The course was super flat. *My sister was pacing me. *I was just healed from an injury.), when probably a simple, "Thanks, I've been working hard." would suffice.  

Can you see the mixture of bliss and shame on my face?

Another, deeper reason for my embarrassment is that I am so stinking grateful to be able to run, that speed and medals are secondary.  I could go the rest of my life without earning another medal or getting any faster, and be content.  Going the rest of my life without running, though, would be scary.  I think about people who are physically unable to run, or walk, or do whatever exercise they're passionate about, and it makes me want to cry.  My pace improvement is really nothing compared to their ability to overcome physical obstacles.

3. Two words: social networking.

For 5 (yes, five) years, come July, I've regularly (read: multiple times/day) been on a not-very-well-known social networking site, plurk.  My dad invited me to join, saying, "It's like twitter, but not."  Which it is.  And, is not.  Here's the thing about plurk:  It's a real community, not just a bunch of faceless internet weirdos.  I feel like a lot of my plurker friends are actual, real-life friends (I've even met a few of them in person) because we share the mundane as well as the exciting stuff that happens in our lives.  I've learned a lot from them.  We've exchanged both Christmas cards and no-reason gifts.  There are dancing bananas.  We ARE friends.  And yet, when my non-plurker friends asked how I knew the talented author of the books I was raving about, I mumbled, "Oh, you know.  Online.  Blogs.  Websites.  Internet.  I read."  It's really silly.  Nobody is ashamed of being a tweeter, right?  People actually get married to people they meet through other websites with dumb names, right?  So, there you have it.  I'm a plurker.  I <3 my plurk friends.  Also, I get a lot of my news from facebook.  But that's something about which I should be embarrassed.

4.  I'm embarrassed when things are easy for me that are hard for others.
Do you want to know how many times I threw up during both of my pregnancies, combined?  Less than 10.  Do you want to know how many pounds I gained while I was pregnant?  37.  16 with 6 yr. old, 21 with Baby.  Do you want to know how many times I've really tried to lose weight?  No, you certainly don't.  Especially if you knew how many chips I eat, late at night, almost every night.

Pregnancy was easy for me.  Breastfeeding was easy for me (I nursed both kids for just over a year).  Being overweight is not something I've had to bear.  I think anytime we can't relate to the problems of others, it makes us a little embarrassed.  It isn't as though I'm good at everything, and it isn't as though people who have a hard time with things that I find easy are angry with me or try to make me feel ashamed.  I know that lack of experience doesn't equal lack of sympathy or understanding.  I just have to remember to accept my easy along with my challenging.

5. I'm embarrassed to tell people that I'm a stay-at-home Mom.  
It feels like I'm implying that: a.) my family has a lot of money (we don't, we just live in a teeny house and eat out at Tijuana Flats only on Tuesday, when dinner is $5), b.) I feel like I'm a better mom than one who works outside the home (I don't.  I love my kids desperately, and I think that's the main ingredient to good Mommyhood), or c.) that I'm not qualified to get paid to work (I am.  I've got a B.A. degree, half an M.S. degree, management experience, creative ideas, and a great work ethic.)  Husband and I agreed that the sacrifices we would have to make to live on just his income were worthwhile.  He works really hard to support us financially, because we feel that my staying home is the right thing for our family.  I just have to be careful when I'm talking to my working-mom friends, that it doesn't sound like I'm bragging when I talk about my weekday morning yoga class.

I'm a very busy housekeeper, you know.  Every lady needs a break, sometimes, to capture how long her legs look from a certain camera angle, though.  Please pay no attention to the undercouch.  I was much too busy to remove the dozens of toys from under there.

6. I planted an organic garden and didn't want to tell anyone about it.
It's a small plot in our backyard.  I wanted to wait until my big, amazing harvest to start referring to myself as a gardener, but I see now how silly that was.  I was worried that people would start asking me questions, and expecting intelligent answers.  But, I shouldn't have been embarrassed to talk about starting a garden.  I should be embarrassed that I didn't do enough research, or even give it enough thought.  Now, I'll be harvesting my killer canteloupe and nothing else, apparently.  I planted marigolds, sunflowers, red bell peppers, jalapeno peppers, green beans, canteloupe and carrots, and some herbs in a pot.  As of this publication, the canteloupe have murdered the marigolds, wrapped their tendrils around the green beans, jalapeno plant, and carrot stems, and the sunflowers have grown so tall that they are shading the other nearby plants.

Baby thought I was doing a great job.

After 1.5 days of weeding.

Tool

After 3 days of weeding, and 10 minutes of Husband digging.

The canteloupe's first victim.  RIP, marigolds.

There's no good reason I should be embarrassed about any of these 6 things.  It's embarrassing, my embarrassment.  So, what you should do is comment to reassure me that I'm not too kooky, and tell me the things you feel silly feeling silly about.  (Yes, that's your advice for today.  Self-serving?  Maybe.)

Any marigold resuscitation tips?

What do you hate being embarrassed about?

Second Half, Second Half

When last we met, I was describing how excited I was to be running in my second-ever half marathon race.  My first was the Women's Half Marathon, described in excruciating detail in that link.  My second was the Swamp House Half Marathon, and I was really looking forward to running it.  I was sure that I could beat the time of my first half (2:11) by a lot, and maybe even come in under 2 hours.  I had quieted the scaredy cat whiny baby in my head when I completed the whole 13.1 miles the first time, so all that was left to do was keep putting miles behind me between November and March, and to keep from injuring myself.

D'oh!  D'oh! And a double d'oh!

I didn't feel great after the November race.  I had pulled an abdominal muscle, which hurt for a few days, and when running all weird and breathing all wrong to make my abs not hurt so much during the race, I hurt my knee, too.  The smart thing to do was to take some time off, so I did.  The stupid thing to do was to take the rest of November and most of December off.  I ran a little, of course (If I don't, I start to feel like Old Yeller at the end of the movie.  Before he gets [SPOILER ALERT] killed, when he's all snarly and foaming at the mouth.)  I ran a 5k with Husband early in January, and a 5k leg of a 15k relay a few weeks later.  That day, I had decided to add some extra miles to get back into my planned training, so I ran home from the race site.  About a mile into the 3 1/2 mile trek home, my knee started hurting.  A lot.  I took a couple of walk breaks,  iced it when I got home, and rested, compressed and elevated it for a couple of days.  A really annoying, super frustrating pattern developed:  Run.  Ouch.  RICE.  Run fewer miles.  Run more miles.  Ouch.  RICE.  Run fewer miles.  Run more miles.  Ouch.  RICE.

I figured out that the source of pain, felt mostly in my knee, was actually my IT band.  Quick summary- the IT (iliotibial) band runs from around the hip to the outside of the knee.  When running (like I run), friction is created between the band of fascia and the bones, which can cause pain.  Although I pictured a rubber band when I first heard the description of the problem, to me, it felt like the opposite of a rubber band (whatever that may be).  When it would start to hurt, it was like my whole leg, starting from my hip, was getting shorter; getting pulled too tight.  I found some relief when I learned some stretches and went to some yoga classes.  I practiced improving my running form, I set a personal record in a 5k race, and I figured out a racing plan.  I realized that my form breaks down when I get fatigued, and bad form = pain, so my plan was to feel fresh for as many of the 13 miles as I could.  I decided to run for 10 minutes and walk for 1 minute.  I had my masseuse friend SpectacularLeigh work out any extra tension at the fabulous salon where I also got my hair done, and I felt like I was ready.  Since I had injured my knee, I had not logged nearly as many miles as I had originally planned, so I adjusted my goal from finishing under 2 hours to just having a good-feeling race.

I subtitled this race "Psychological Prowess", and here's why: I had some pretty significant mental hurdles to plow through in order to have a great race-

My best friend and biggest fan, Husband, was out of town for work.

It was really, really cold on race day.

I hadn't run more than 4 miles without pain in months.

Still nursing Baby had wakened me in the night, giving me <4 hours of sleep.

Sing with me!  Free your mind and the rest will follow.

My dad picked me up on race morning and left my mom with Baby and then-5 yr. old.  We met my sister and the three of us arrived at and parked in the super-easy-to-find field near the start line.  Did I mention that it was really cold?  37F, which felt like 32F with the wind.  We stayed in the car to keep warm until the last possible minute.  We didn't even get out to line up at the port-o-lets.  The race directors had planned well, so the lines weren't too long, but there was no line at all in front of the bushes.  

Just watered, not fertilized.

We lined up at the start (my sis and I had some of our husbands' socks on over our shoes to try to keep our toes warm- it worked!) just before the National Anthem.  The race started promptly, and we set off through the quiet neighborhoods.  My first mile was a 9:12 pace, which was right where I wanted to be.  The first time my watched beeped to indicate that I should take a walk break, I barely slowed down.  Mile 2 was a 9:11 pace, and I did slow to a walk after another 10 minutes of running.  Mile 3 was 9:01, and I felt great.  I wasn't in any pain, and I felt like I was taking the race easy enough to keep the IT band pain away for a while longer.  

We turned onto a main road, and cars were backed up as far as I could see.  My mom was planning to bring my kids to the finish line after giving them breakfast and bundling them up, and I couldn't see how she was going to get there with the traffic and road blocks.  Before I let myself get too worried, though, I closed my eyes and took some deep breaths.  I thought about how beautiful the sunlight looked coming through the trees, and how good the cold air had started to feel, and how grateful I was to be able to run.  I realized that I would really be okay with it if my mom had to turn around and go back to my house with the kids; that I was going to have a great race no matter what.  Mile 4 beeped in at a 9:09 pace.  I walked when my watch indicated it was time, and then I walked through a water stop so I could wash down my gooey, sticky fuel chews.

I cut them into quarters and still had trouble chewing them.  The energy boost without feeling barfy was great, though!

The extra walking made mile 5 a little longer, 9:54.  I was starting to feel some twinges of pain, especially when going uphill (probably only Florida natives like me would even call this course "hilly" with a straight face, but whatever) so I let myself slow down and tried to concentrate on my form.  Mile 6 was 9:51, and I was still feeling physically okay when I saw my brother-in-law and his parents at mile 7, which was 9:49.  My friend and training buddy and sister's sister-in-law (all the same person) stayed with me, even as I slowed down further.  She didn't make fun of me when I tried to convince her that 7.5 + 4.5 = 13 (we saw a very confusing sign about free beer in 4.5 miles) and she walked with me when the pain really started to set in.  I was still able to run for the majority of miles 8 and 9, which put them at 10:20 and 10:16.  Right around the 15k mark, we turned onto a road with a different sort of pavement.  I'm not sure what it's called, maybe Hellcrete?  Satanment?  GRAVEL?  I've heard that some people love running on it, but it was hard on my hips and other joints.  Most of the next miles were spent walking, because every time I started to run, it felt like my right leg was being pulled up and held in a vice.  It was hard to bend it, and hard to straighten it.  13:26, 10:14, & 12:22 were my next 3 mile times.  

I had tons of energy, was in great spirits, and was still enjoying myself, despite realizing that I was not going to beat my first half marathon time.  (I did try to convince my friend at mile 12 that it was possible for us to finish around 2:05, and she didn't make fun of me for that math error, either!  She's so kind.)  I started running again when we got back on a normal road, and soon saw my dad, then my sister's oldest son ("Umm, do you know you're not running very fast?"  Thanks for the motivation, kid.  "No, I'm just saying, I mean, you're like, a runner, and I'm keeping up with you!  I'm not saying you're slow, but I'm not fast, and I think I could beat you to the finish line.  Oh, and everyone else is already done."  Yes. Thank you.), and soon after, I saw my mom, son, daughter, and other nephews cheering and clapping (Would that have been so hard, dear, oldest nephew?).  Mile 13 was at a 10:27 pace, and I improved to a 9:43 pace for the last bit.  (Maybe I did need the rough talk from my nephew?)

Well practiced at cheering for runners, these boys are.

I crossed the finish line, got a water and my medal/bottle opener, then turned back to look at the clock.  I may well be the only runner to feel this way, but my slower-than-planned, really painful race was G-R-E-A-T.  It reminded me of my third College Algebra class.  Nope, not the third class meeting of the semester, but about 1/4 of the way through the third time I had enrolled in the class (I actually only failed it once, and barely.  The teacher didn't like me [may have had something to do with how often she had to wake me] so I literally failed by 1 point.  The other time, I dropped the class after 2 meetings because I couldn't understand anything the instructor was saying.  I'm pretty sure he thought he was teaching astronomy.).  During that Algebra class, and during that half-marathon, I actually heard heard a click in my brain.  After the click in Algebra, I was awake, interested, and passing all the tests with flying colors (and as you can all now attest, I'm not really a "math girl").  After the race click, I realized that racing isn't about numbers for me.  It's about my own accomplishments, my strengths, and getting as much out of the experience as possible.  The time on the clock is just like icing on the brownies. Yes, I know it's usually 'cake' in the saying, but I contend that icing on cake is not an extra bonus, it's a necessity.  Icing on brownies, though, is an unexpected treat.

Result: 2:14:57

After the race, I changed clothes, fed Baby in the car, and re-joined my family.  The little boys got to wrestle and jump on each other in the bounce house, my sis and dad got age group awards, I snagged a free beer, berry danish, bagel and banana, and enjoyed the festivities for a while before we left.  The traffic had never actually been as bad as it looked from my perspective during the race, and getting out was a breeze.  My family and I stopped to get lunch at:

Where the sauces are the only thing hotter than the order-takers.  Imagine Hooters girls with happily married parents, and you'll have a good picture of the T.F. employees.

The (really pretty) girl who took our order had actually been volunteering at a water stop during the race, so I felt like a bit of a star, wearing my medal and accepting her, "Wow, I don't know how you guys run that far" with a smile.

Today's advice was going to be deep and important, but then I got caught up looking at taco pictures when I was searching for the Tijuana Flats logo image.

Is my mouth the only one watering right now?

So, you get this: take advantage of their Taco Tuesdaze deal.  2 tacos, chips and a soda for the low, low price of $4.99.  If you live somewhere without the addictive, delicious, worth every gram of fat tacos made by T.F., I'm very, very sorry for you.  You should probably move to Florida.  Ooh!  Then, you could run the Swamp House half marathon with me next year, too!

What do you like on your tacos?

Have you ever heard "the click"?

Food: It's What's For Dinner

I don't know about you, but I spend an inordinate amount of some time each day, wondering what other people are having for dinner.  I'm always curious about which of my friends are cooking, which are getting take-out, which are having leftovers, whether they remembered to take some meat out of the freezer to thaw, whether they're eating healthy (Oh, it's true.  I sit and think, sometimes, about calling certain friends to remind them to eat their vegetables.), whether they're using a cookbook or a website or a family recipe or making it up as they go along, how many pots and pans they'll have to wash... Does anyone else do this?

Nachos for dinner?  Why, yes, please!

I enjoy cooking very much.  I love trying new recipes and different ingredients, and I love that the end result of my time and effort is (usually) delicious and nourishing to the people I love.  Before I had a family of my own to cook for, I spent a lot of time in the imaginary kitchen of my mind.  That is, I paid for 2 different recipe-cards-by-mail subscriptions, and received 3 different recipe magazines each month.  I hosted and attended Pampered Chef shows like it was my job.  Then, for a while, it was my job.  In my early twenties, I spent more money on cookbooks and kitchen tools than I care to admit.

The contents of my tool turnabout.  Oh, how many diapers I could have bought for the price of all those spatulas!

It was our (now long-lost) dog who stopped my cookbook buying.  A couple of nights after we brought him home from the pound, we had to leave him alone for a few hours.  He was in the laundry room, with plenty of food and water and space to move around, but he went a little nuts anyway.  During his rampage, almost all of my cookbooks and recipe magazines ended up chewed, vomited on, or chewed and vomited out.

Long after that fateful night.  He calmed down.  Sorta.

I found out that every recipe I didn't know from memory, I was able to find on the internet.  I tried not to think about how much money I had wasted on cookbooks, and soldiered on.  I have since started writing down the recipes I invent, and keeping the notated print-outs of those I find online.

Mmm...pumpkin soup!  I had forgotten about that one!

I received a delightful cookbook, Comfortably Yum, as a gift a couple of years ago, and I'm pretty sure I haven't opened any other cookbook since.  It has really delicious recipes, written for real people who actually cook, rather than for people who simply publish cookbooks or magazines.  No glossy pictures of plasticy-looking food, no required trips to the craft store for a variety of wooden dowels or basket-weaving supplies- just recipes for food you would want to eat.  I highly recommend it.

With the hope that you'll share your dinner plans if I share mine, here is last week's list:

Last night, I made Fish Tacos with Noodle Invention on the side, as 5 y.o. complained that, "We have rice, like, every single night".  Tonight, I plan to trick Husband into eating pork chops (You know how people make jokes about the wife's cooking not being as good as her mother-in-law's?  Yeah.  He'll only eat the pork chops his mom makes.  But it's cool.  It's cool.) by cutting them up and putting them into fried...um...rice.  Hm.  I may have to rethink that idea in order to please both of my guys.

My advice?  Don't spend a whole lotta money on spatulas and recipe cards with pictures of food in handmade baskets.  Bonus advice:  try the super-simple dinner I made last night!

Fish Tacos

Cooked Fish (I used frozen sticks last night, but I've also made them with grilled fresh fish-just depends how much time you have)
Flour Tortillas, warmed
Shredded Iceberg Lettuce
Sliced Poblano Pepper
Tomatillo Salsa

Noodle Invention

1/2 box Bow-tie Pasta, cooked to package instructions
1/4 c Diced Ham
2 c Fresh Spinach
2 Tbs Olive Oil
1/4 c White Wine
1/4 c Shredded Parmesan Cheese
Salt & Pepper

As the pasta cooks, start sauteing the ham and spinach.  Add the hot, cooked pasta, drizzle with olive oil and splash in the white wine.  Season to taste with salt and pepper, cook together for about 3 minutes, then stir in the parmesan cheese just before serving.

What are your dinner plans?