AJ loves going to Kroger with me for two reasons: race car shopping carts and free cookies from the bakery. We made a fairly early morning run there today to avoid the stifling heat. They were out of race cars, but he is now old enough that he understands this just happens sometimes. And they did have the main attraction, the tray of cookies in the bakery. He decided to save about half of his for the ride home, when we had the following exchange:
AJ: Daddy, I want a snack.
I paused and glanced over my shoulder, confirming what I thought--that he was holding a cookie while asking for a snack.
Me: You've got a cookie in your hand, buddy.
AJ (immediately): That's not a snack, that's a treat. I want a snack.
Strong attempt by him, even if it didn't work.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Summer camp
AJ just wrapped up two weeks of summer day camp at a Montessori school near Beth's office and he loved it. At least he seems like he did. But there's almost no chance he enjoyed it as much as I did, because although I adore my little man, he can be exhausting, and a brief break was very welcome. Beth dropped him off each morning and picked him up mid-afternoon, every day, for two glorious weeks.
This week he started a different camp at Pulaski Academy, where he will be attending school in the fall. The hours aren't as cushy (for me), since he only goes from nine to noon, but it seems like fun for him and we've gotten rave reports on his behavior from his teachers. Although I'm not exactly sure who is flipping the doom switch that turns him into a disobedient little monster before we even get to the car. We've read many times that the terrible twos is really kind of a myth or misnomer, and that the terrible threes would really be more accurate. That has certainly been our experience thus far.
Our family trip to the Cape is coming up in a couple of weeks. What could possibly go wrong on a two day drive with a strong-willed three year old and a seven month old baby sister who has shown no desire to fall into a predictable schedule? I'm sure it will be a piece of cake!
This week he started a different camp at Pulaski Academy, where he will be attending school in the fall. The hours aren't as cushy (for me), since he only goes from nine to noon, but it seems like fun for him and we've gotten rave reports on his behavior from his teachers. Although I'm not exactly sure who is flipping the doom switch that turns him into a disobedient little monster before we even get to the car. We've read many times that the terrible twos is really kind of a myth or misnomer, and that the terrible threes would really be more accurate. That has certainly been our experience thus far.
Our family trip to the Cape is coming up in a couple of weeks. What could possibly go wrong on a two day drive with a strong-willed three year old and a seven month old baby sister who has shown no desire to fall into a predictable schedule? I'm sure it will be a piece of cake!
Friday, May 28, 2010
Success
The Pantry/Freezer challenge is wrapping up today and it has been an unqualified success. I cleaned out the pantry, which needed it desperately, and also found several things to make in there. The freezer didn't need as much work, but it provided more substantial eats. Tuesday night was another nice piece of beef, roasted and served with a steam pack of pasta with veggies. On Wednesday I made pizza dough and AJ had a little cheese pizza while Beth and I had calzones with ricotta, mozzarella, and a pack of spicy sausage from the freezer, with a little frozen ground beef mixed in just to use it up. The calzones were really tasty, and AJ devoured his entire mini-pie. Then last night we had plenty of the sausage and cheese filling leftover, so we did breakfast for dinner, mixing the cheesy sausage into scrambled eggs and having that with some frozen potatoes with onions and peppers and a few frozen tea biscuits. I even had enough still leftover to roll some up into a breakfast burrito that I enjoyed this morning.
And that's it. It never got as challenging as I thought it might, although it would have if I kept at it another day or two. But we were well fed for a week, we saved money on groceries, and the pantry and freezer are both in much better shape than when we began. I think I'll make this an annual exercise.
Now, time to start the "Eat Healthy Foods Again and Get The Kids Used To The Gym Day Care For The Summer" challenge...
And that's it. It never got as challenging as I thought it might, although it would have if I kept at it another day or two. But we were well fed for a week, we saved money on groceries, and the pantry and freezer are both in much better shape than when we began. I think I'll make this an annual exercise.
Now, time to start the "Eat Healthy Foods Again and Get The Kids Used To The Gym Day Care For The Summer" challenge...
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Future yard boy
I was outside grilling the other night and AJ provided some comedy as only he can. First off, he absolutely thinks he is my little sous chef. We got him his own stool for the kitchen because he really thinks he needs to "help" whenever I'm cooking. This tendency now applies outside as well. "Daddy, are we going to grill?" he asked as I readied things. Yes, son. Yes we are.
This time I made a tactical error in that I was doing the meat on the grill outside, while cooking stuff on the stove top inside that also required my attention. It wouldn't be a big deal, except I had to go back and forth frequently, leaving him unattended for a minute or two at a time. Safety wasn't a concern, because he absolutely knows not to go near the actual grill, plus the grill was in my sight the entire time . It was more a matter of what else he might find to occupy himself with. Case in point: I ducked into the kitchen and came back out to find him getting animated. "Daddy, there's dog poopy over here!" he exclaimed, pointing to a spot on the far side of the lawn. And he's right. There was. We don't scoop up every doody every time. I know that's terrible. I've been doing a big, full pass of the lawn before I mow and that has been working out okay. Until now.
He knows what dog poop is. He's knows it's dirty. I recommended stepping away from the poop and leaving it alone. I had to duck back in, and upon returning the brown yard bomb was still the focus of his attention. "Daddy, let's clean up the poopy!" A noble sentiment, to be sure, and one that he was fully aware of because he has seen me do it. But I didn't want to deal with that particular chore while cooking. I think that makes sense. I explained this to AJ and went inside to check on my side dishes.
The next time I came out, he was standing over the poop spot, with almost all of it successfully raked onto the pooper scooper, trying to empty it into the little trash can we keep out there for that. The problem was that I hadn't put a fresh bag in since the last time I emptied it. This frustrated the young lawn cleaner. "Daddy, bring me a plastic bag!" he demanded excitedly, hovering over the can, balancing the turds on the scoop. Fine. If he wants to clean up that badly, I'll get a garbage bag in there and he can finish the job. Better him than me.
I did just that, popping inside and right back out quickly, trash bag in tow. I found that he had moved on to another canine deposit he had discovered. He was picking this one up too.
With his bare hands.
This time I made a tactical error in that I was doing the meat on the grill outside, while cooking stuff on the stove top inside that also required my attention. It wouldn't be a big deal, except I had to go back and forth frequently, leaving him unattended for a minute or two at a time. Safety wasn't a concern, because he absolutely knows not to go near the actual grill, plus the grill was in my sight the entire time . It was more a matter of what else he might find to occupy himself with. Case in point: I ducked into the kitchen and came back out to find him getting animated. "Daddy, there's dog poopy over here!" he exclaimed, pointing to a spot on the far side of the lawn. And he's right. There was. We don't scoop up every doody every time. I know that's terrible. I've been doing a big, full pass of the lawn before I mow and that has been working out okay. Until now.
He knows what dog poop is. He's knows it's dirty. I recommended stepping away from the poop and leaving it alone. I had to duck back in, and upon returning the brown yard bomb was still the focus of his attention. "Daddy, let's clean up the poopy!" A noble sentiment, to be sure, and one that he was fully aware of because he has seen me do it. But I didn't want to deal with that particular chore while cooking. I think that makes sense. I explained this to AJ and went inside to check on my side dishes.
The next time I came out, he was standing over the poop spot, with almost all of it successfully raked onto the pooper scooper, trying to empty it into the little trash can we keep out there for that. The problem was that I hadn't put a fresh bag in since the last time I emptied it. This frustrated the young lawn cleaner. "Daddy, bring me a plastic bag!" he demanded excitedly, hovering over the can, balancing the turds on the scoop. Fine. If he wants to clean up that badly, I'll get a garbage bag in there and he can finish the job. Better him than me.
I did just that, popping inside and right back out quickly, trash bag in tow. I found that he had moved on to another canine deposit he had discovered. He was picking this one up too.
With his bare hands.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
"What the hell is that?!?"
Picking stuff to make from the pantry isn't a big deal because, as Bill Belichick loves to say, it is what it is. But substantially older food from the freezer is a different ballgame. Yesterday I pulled a couple of things out of there that made me feel like I was playing a more difficult version of Dave Letterman's game "Know Your Cuts of Meat." One appeared to be a big shoulder or something like it (still thawing, and I'm still not sure what it is), while the other clearly looked like a piece of tenderloin. At least it did to me. It was in a freezer bag, and wrapped in plastic and black butcher paper inside of that, and clearly the paper threw Beth off. She saw the piece of meat sitting on the counter and mistook the color of the paper for the meat itself, instantly wondering what the heck I was trying to pawn off on her
It turned out to be a beef tenderloin, and a good one at that. I threw together a southwestern spice rub with some cumin, chili powder, ancho chili powder, cayenne, garlic powder, salt, pepper...good stuff like that. AJ helped me put the rub on the meat and it must have been decent because he licked it off his fingers. Yes, sometimes he can be a little weird. Anyway, I did the beef on the grill and it turned out great. We had it with some black beans, canned corn, and quinoa with some frozen peppers and onions mixed in. I also found a little can of diced jalapenos and sprinkled them around in pretty much everything. All in all, Pantry/Freezer week has been a rousing success so far.
It turned out to be a beef tenderloin, and a good one at that. I threw together a southwestern spice rub with some cumin, chili powder, ancho chili powder, cayenne, garlic powder, salt, pepper...good stuff like that. AJ helped me put the rub on the meat and it must have been decent because he licked it off his fingers. Yes, sometimes he can be a little weird. Anyway, I did the beef on the grill and it turned out great. We had it with some black beans, canned corn, and quinoa with some frozen peppers and onions mixed in. I also found a little can of diced jalapenos and sprinkled them around in pretty much everything. All in all, Pantry/Freezer week has been a rousing success so far.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Cleaning out the pantry
As part of Operation: Pantry & Freezer, I decided to give the pantry a top-to-bottom clean out. The results were pathetic. I think I threw away an amount of food, much of it unopened, that would reach close to four figures in retail prices. There were sauces, crackers, canned goods, jarred stuff...you name it, and we had some of it that went bad. The best find was a four pack of Red Bull buried behind some other stuff. I have switched to the sugar free version almost exclusively, and this is the full-test stuff, but sleep has been so erratic lately thanks to the kids that I happily popped the four little cans in the fridge, knowing that they will probably be gone in a matter of days.
The early leader for "Saddest/most ridiculous item still around" was a six pack of some Tropicana fruity drink thing. Firstly, there was only one bottle gone out of six. Secondly, and more importantly, the "best by" date: September of 2007. This is lame in and of itself, but the atrocity is compounded by the fact that we moved in June of 2008. This means that, yes, we paid somebody to move those five bottles of juice for us so they could take up space in our new house and then I could throw them out two years later.
However, even the poor Tropicana was trumped at the end of the process when I stumbled upon a little bottle of truffle oil of some sort. The expiration date? May, 2003! We have a winner!!
Sunday night dinner: Grilled cheese, oranges, and Goldfish crackers (requested) for the boy. For us, I found a nice looking frozen Lobel's strip steak so I used that in an Asian stir fry. Seasoned everything with salt, pepper, garlic powder, Szechuan seasoning, and soy sauce, tossed it together with a pack of frozen veggies, and served it over sushi rice, because that's what we had. Very easy and really tasty. Then, little pastries from the Greek Food Festival for dessert while we watched Lost. Good stuff.
The early leader for "Saddest/most ridiculous item still around" was a six pack of some Tropicana fruity drink thing. Firstly, there was only one bottle gone out of six. Secondly, and more importantly, the "best by" date: September of 2007. This is lame in and of itself, but the atrocity is compounded by the fact that we moved in June of 2008. This means that, yes, we paid somebody to move those five bottles of juice for us so they could take up space in our new house and then I could throw them out two years later.
However, even the poor Tropicana was trumped at the end of the process when I stumbled upon a little bottle of truffle oil of some sort. The expiration date? May, 2003! We have a winner!!
Sunday night dinner: Grilled cheese, oranges, and Goldfish crackers (requested) for the boy. For us, I found a nice looking frozen Lobel's strip steak so I used that in an Asian stir fry. Seasoned everything with salt, pepper, garlic powder, Szechuan seasoning, and soy sauce, tossed it together with a pack of frozen veggies, and served it over sushi rice, because that's what we had. Very easy and really tasty. Then, little pastries from the Greek Food Festival for dessert while we watched Lost. Good stuff.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Pantry & freezer week
We are working on a self-imposed dining challenge this week: no grocery shopping. We're going to try to go from Saturday night to Friday night eating only what we have on hand in the fridge, freezer and pantry. This will knock out an item from The List, it will save a few bucks, and it will help clean out some stuff from the kitchen in a major way. I'm going to buy a gallon of milk on Sunday or Monday, but that's it. So far there are predictions that we'll be down to cereal or pancakes by the end of this, but I really think we have enough stuff around that I can come up with semi-real meals for the whole week. We'll see how it goes.
Saturday night: all leftovers, including grilled pork chops, two kinds of pasta, and chili.
Sunday morning: bacon, eggs, and toast. It's been easy so far, but I also realized that we have fewer eggs than I thought we did. That could become an issue later in the week. Okay, off to find something frozen to thaw for dinner.
Saturday night: all leftovers, including grilled pork chops, two kinds of pasta, and chili.
Sunday morning: bacon, eggs, and toast. It's been easy so far, but I also realized that we have fewer eggs than I thought we did. That could become an issue later in the week. Okay, off to find something frozen to thaw for dinner.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Great Saturday
I often vent when the kids act up or behave badly, which has been pretty frequently lately. So I owe it to them to give equal time to the other side of the coin. Today we started off with a low key breakfast lounging around the house because Mommy and Daddy both felt like Will Ferrell during a particular scene in Old School. But both little ones were perfectly fine with our slow start. We made it to the Greek Food Festival right when it opened at 11. AJ didn't quite remember what it was all about but he was still excited to go. The temps quickly reached the high 80s but through lunch and picking up some goodies to go, we didn't hear a single negative peep out of either one. Next stop, Target, to pick some stuff we needed. Again, stellar behavior from start to finish. Then we popped in at Beth's mom's new house, and again they were little angels. There were plenty of things around that AJ could have gotten into, but he didn't. And the girl continued to just smile and coo like a perfect baby out of a movie. If their behavior was a baseball pitching performance, it was something like this one*. Top notch, and good times for all.
* (And if you actually checked the link, to complete the analogy, the solo homer would be AJ's last minute bail out on going into the bouncy castle deal. Can't really fault him, because the last girl out before him was screaming her head off and that clearly spooked him.)
* (And if you actually checked the link, to complete the analogy, the solo homer would be AJ's last minute bail out on going into the bouncy castle deal. Can't really fault him, because the last girl out before him was screaming her head off and that clearly spooked him.)
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
AJ-isms of the week
Some random AJ quotes from last week, if only so I can remember them some day:
I was holding Courtney and she started crying while the boy was trying to watch Chuggington. He matter-of-factly got up, quietly walked around the coffee table, came over, kneeled over her, said "SHHHHH!" in her face as loud as he could, then went back to watching his show. I'm not sure if this is an improvement over last week, when the circumstances were very similar but he loudly announced "Courtney, stop it, you're making me crazy!"
We were playing in the library and he did something out of line. We'll often give him a count of three to get his act together. This time, Beth did it, but for no apparent reason she started the count in Spanish. Her: "Uno...dos." Him: "Tres, cuatro!" Okay, so apparently he's learning Spanish numbers at school. News to us!
We had a greeting card laying around, one that talks and sings when you open it up. AJ, of course, is fascinated by this. He kept opening and closing it until we couldn't take it any more, so Beth told him to give it a rest. He closed the card and announced "Oh no, it's a disaster." We're not quite sure where he picked that one up.
I was holding Courtney and she started crying while the boy was trying to watch Chuggington. He matter-of-factly got up, quietly walked around the coffee table, came over, kneeled over her, said "SHHHHH!" in her face as loud as he could, then went back to watching his show. I'm not sure if this is an improvement over last week, when the circumstances were very similar but he loudly announced "Courtney, stop it, you're making me crazy!"
We were playing in the library and he did something out of line. We'll often give him a count of three to get his act together. This time, Beth did it, but for no apparent reason she started the count in Spanish. Her: "Uno...dos." Him: "Tres, cuatro!" Okay, so apparently he's learning Spanish numbers at school. News to us!
We had a greeting card laying around, one that talks and sings when you open it up. AJ, of course, is fascinated by this. He kept opening and closing it until we couldn't take it any more, so Beth told him to give it a rest. He closed the card and announced "Oh no, it's a disaster." We're not quite sure where he picked that one up.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
"I saw a bird!"
It's tough to get A.J. to talk about his day at school. I thought this might be a trait that doesn't start in kids until high school, but at the ripe old age of three it's like digging ditches to get him to give you the slightest insight or details about what he did. That's why I was thrilled with this unprompted conversation we had in the car on the way to the store today. I've tried to transcribe it verbatim.
AJ: Daddy, I saw a bird today at school.
He has been really into seeing birds around the house lately, so this didn't surprise me. My goal at this point was to treat him like a guilty criminal suspect and just keep him talking as long as possible to see what else I could find out.
Me: Really? Where did you see it?
AJ: Outside.
Okay, not a lot to go on yet. Time to dig a little deeper.
Me: What was he doing? Was he flying?
AJ: No.
Me: Was he driving a car? Was he playing basketball?
AJ: No, daddy. That would be silly.
It has taken him just this long to figure out that his dad is a silly goofball.
Me: So what was he doing?
AJ: Nothing. He was dead. Really, really dead. Miss Paige scooped him up and put him in a bag and said not to touch him because it would make me sick.
Despite the morbid ending, this qualifies as a wonderful post-school discussion.
AJ: Daddy, I saw a bird today at school.
He has been really into seeing birds around the house lately, so this didn't surprise me. My goal at this point was to treat him like a guilty criminal suspect and just keep him talking as long as possible to see what else I could find out.
Me: Really? Where did you see it?
AJ: Outside.
Okay, not a lot to go on yet. Time to dig a little deeper.
Me: What was he doing? Was he flying?
AJ: No.
Me: Was he driving a car? Was he playing basketball?
AJ: No, daddy. That would be silly.
It has taken him just this long to figure out that his dad is a silly goofball.
Me: So what was he doing?
AJ: Nothing. He was dead. Really, really dead. Miss Paige scooped him up and put him in a bag and said not to touch him because it would make me sick.
Despite the morbid ending, this qualifies as a wonderful post-school discussion.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
When it rains...
It felt like things really started falling apart on Easter afternoon. That's when I made my audacious attempt at lying down on my bed, fully dressed in my "Easter best (polo and khakis)," in search of the ever-elusive ten minute nap. It actually seemed like it was going to work out, too. Beth even got down for a moment. Then, in the span of about a nanosecond, here's how it all was foiled:
1. Courtney started crying from her crib next door. Not a big deal. I figure she was hungry. "Do you want me to get her?" I asked, with absolutely no authority or intent behind it. "Yes," answered B. Shit. Maybe if I just lie here, Beth will realize that the baby needs to be fed, and she's the person to do that right now, and I can keep napping. Wait...success!
2. The phone rings. It's my mother in law. Take those two sentences, repeat them about 87 times, and that's what it's like around here over a typical three or four days. The M-I-L has a hideous two-pronged telephonic attack technique that makes me want to cultivate a drug habit. First off, she always, without fail, every single time, finds the need to call five minutes after she was just here. Maybe I'm a son-in-law cliche for it, but I find this a bit of an annoyance. Secondly, and even more painfully, I think she must have installed some sort of pressure-sensitive feature onto my pillow that connects to her home phone and alerts her when my head lays down, because again, WITHOUT FAIL, EVERY GOD DAMN TIME I try to sneak a nap, she calls. And we're not talking about a lot of occurrences here. I just don't get those chances anymore. A couple of times a month, maybe. And the damn phone rings every single time.
3. Within mere moments of all this going on, Beth has gotten up, grabbed the baby, and gone downstairs to let the mutts in. They spent the day outside on Easter, which they do only occasionally. They're fine with it. They are dogs, and sometimes we even treat them as such. Previously mentioned dear M-I-L took it upon herself to find the empty dog water bowl--without any dogs in the house--and fill it to Niagran proportions. I have no idea why, but she felt oddly compelled to take a big, empty bucket that had nothing to do with anything, and to fill it to overflowing. For dogs that were not in the house to drink it. Does everyone see where this is going?
4. The thirsty/hungry/neglected/annoyed dogs bolt into the house. I'm actually still trying to fight through that nap at this juncture. This quickly ended when I heard, from all the way downstairs, clear as a bell: "Fucking asshole dog. FUCKING ASSHOLE DOG!" I'm a betting man, so my mental wager is that Pedro, our older mutt, has made some sort of fluid-related violation. My nomination of which particular canine is quickly validated, as his brother makes a beeline for my side of the bed, cowering there on the adjacent floor in full-on "I didn't do anything" mode.
5. Yeah. Pedro yakked all over the floor because of the big, full water bowl.*
*6. I'm not sure where to put this one, but since it is also related to the M-I-L fucking with drinks that have nothing to do with her, now looks good as a pseudo-footnote. On late Sunday morning, before Na'Nan and Aimee came over to celebrate Easter, I was already hurting. I had that infection going last week, and as it has done once or twice before, it ended up causing a pinched nerve in my back that really kills. So I took a painkiller to sleep and decided that a nice, heavily spiked iced coffee was just the ticket to help me get things rolling Sunday. Beth and I tossed back and forth a couple of jokes about her mother's relationship with alcohol, one in which Aimee is not so much on the wagon per se, but clinging madly to some out of control alcohol carriage.
Cut to: The M-I-L's arrival. I've got my big Bailey's and iced coffee working in a Red Sox pint glass. It is opening day after all. I'll say, being somewhat generous, that M-I-L was inside the domicile for about seven seconds when her beady eyes laser-locked on my glass. "Ooooh, what's that?" she asked, practically rubbing her little nicotine-stained hands together. "It's Daddy's coffee," I say, somehow thinking that the use of a paternal pronoun will lend even more ownership to my beverage. No such luck. "Let me try," she says, flinging her frail body across the room, landing on the breakfast table in a flying leap, scrawny fingers clutching my beloved glass.
(Okay, maybe not exactly like that. But that's how it felt.)
"I'd be happy to make you one," I counter, which any idiot should take as "Get your filthy fucking paws off my drink." She did not hear it as such, and quickly grabbed my half-full coffee and took an all-too-healthy pull. "Ooooh, that's good," she purred. At this point Beth enters. If I had planned to write how this all was going to go down, I could not have come up with it myself. And if I had, I surely would have thrown it out as being too sensational and completely impossible to believe. But it happened. I just grabbed my drink, turned tail, and left, a twitching ball of wide-mouthed, silent words. We laughed about it later. I think.
So here we are on Tuesday night. AJ was out sick today after racking up a temp north of 102 this morning. Courtney clearly isn't herself either, and is probably catching the express train that already knocked out the poor boy. I had an afternoon appointment at the doc because my back now kills when I do any of the more mundane things I'm required to do during the day, like, say, pick up my daughter. Beth had a huge day at work and still came home at lunch so I could go get my shot and some meds. It didn't clear things up right away. It hurt, and it still aches, and open my return the only way to soothe my daughter was holding and bouncing her in a way that makes the back worse. Totally worth it. Shortly after five, I take her downstairs for a quick feeding. AJ is being great despite clearly not feeling well--he and I launched a rare quadruple-header of movies earlier, and the poor boy should be bouncing off the walls by now, but he's chilling like a champion. It's quiet. A little too quiet. Maybe I'll lie down and stretch my back for a minute. Flat on my bed really does feel best of all. Yup, that's just what I'll do. I might even fall asleep for a minute before we need to get AJ's dinner. This could work. Ahh, yes. The back feels better. It's quiet. I'm absolutely going to nod off for a brilliant five minute snooze.
And then the phone rings...
1. Courtney started crying from her crib next door. Not a big deal. I figure she was hungry. "Do you want me to get her?" I asked, with absolutely no authority or intent behind it. "Yes," answered B. Shit. Maybe if I just lie here, Beth will realize that the baby needs to be fed, and she's the person to do that right now, and I can keep napping. Wait...success!
2. The phone rings. It's my mother in law. Take those two sentences, repeat them about 87 times, and that's what it's like around here over a typical three or four days. The M-I-L has a hideous two-pronged telephonic attack technique that makes me want to cultivate a drug habit. First off, she always, without fail, every single time, finds the need to call five minutes after she was just here. Maybe I'm a son-in-law cliche for it, but I find this a bit of an annoyance. Secondly, and even more painfully, I think she must have installed some sort of pressure-sensitive feature onto my pillow that connects to her home phone and alerts her when my head lays down, because again, WITHOUT FAIL, EVERY GOD DAMN TIME I try to sneak a nap, she calls. And we're not talking about a lot of occurrences here. I just don't get those chances anymore. A couple of times a month, maybe. And the damn phone rings every single time.
3. Within mere moments of all this going on, Beth has gotten up, grabbed the baby, and gone downstairs to let the mutts in. They spent the day outside on Easter, which they do only occasionally. They're fine with it. They are dogs, and sometimes we even treat them as such. Previously mentioned dear M-I-L took it upon herself to find the empty dog water bowl--without any dogs in the house--and fill it to Niagran proportions. I have no idea why, but she felt oddly compelled to take a big, empty bucket that had nothing to do with anything, and to fill it to overflowing. For dogs that were not in the house to drink it. Does everyone see where this is going?
4. The thirsty/hungry/neglected/annoyed dogs bolt into the house. I'm actually still trying to fight through that nap at this juncture. This quickly ended when I heard, from all the way downstairs, clear as a bell: "Fucking asshole dog. FUCKING ASSHOLE DOG!" I'm a betting man, so my mental wager is that Pedro, our older mutt, has made some sort of fluid-related violation. My nomination of which particular canine is quickly validated, as his brother makes a beeline for my side of the bed, cowering there on the adjacent floor in full-on "I didn't do anything" mode.
5. Yeah. Pedro yakked all over the floor because of the big, full water bowl.*
*6. I'm not sure where to put this one, but since it is also related to the M-I-L fucking with drinks that have nothing to do with her, now looks good as a pseudo-footnote. On late Sunday morning, before Na'Nan and Aimee came over to celebrate Easter, I was already hurting. I had that infection going last week, and as it has done once or twice before, it ended up causing a pinched nerve in my back that really kills. So I took a painkiller to sleep and decided that a nice, heavily spiked iced coffee was just the ticket to help me get things rolling Sunday. Beth and I tossed back and forth a couple of jokes about her mother's relationship with alcohol, one in which Aimee is not so much on the wagon per se, but clinging madly to some out of control alcohol carriage.
Cut to: The M-I-L's arrival. I've got my big Bailey's and iced coffee working in a Red Sox pint glass. It is opening day after all. I'll say, being somewhat generous, that M-I-L was inside the domicile for about seven seconds when her beady eyes laser-locked on my glass. "Ooooh, what's that?" she asked, practically rubbing her little nicotine-stained hands together. "It's Daddy's coffee," I say, somehow thinking that the use of a paternal pronoun will lend even more ownership to my beverage. No such luck. "Let me try," she says, flinging her frail body across the room, landing on the breakfast table in a flying leap, scrawny fingers clutching my beloved glass.
(Okay, maybe not exactly like that. But that's how it felt.)
"I'd be happy to make you one," I counter, which any idiot should take as "Get your filthy fucking paws off my drink." She did not hear it as such, and quickly grabbed my half-full coffee and took an all-too-healthy pull. "Ooooh, that's good," she purred. At this point Beth enters. If I had planned to write how this all was going to go down, I could not have come up with it myself. And if I had, I surely would have thrown it out as being too sensational and completely impossible to believe. But it happened. I just grabbed my drink, turned tail, and left, a twitching ball of wide-mouthed, silent words. We laughed about it later. I think.
So here we are on Tuesday night. AJ was out sick today after racking up a temp north of 102 this morning. Courtney clearly isn't herself either, and is probably catching the express train that already knocked out the poor boy. I had an afternoon appointment at the doc because my back now kills when I do any of the more mundane things I'm required to do during the day, like, say, pick up my daughter. Beth had a huge day at work and still came home at lunch so I could go get my shot and some meds. It didn't clear things up right away. It hurt, and it still aches, and open my return the only way to soothe my daughter was holding and bouncing her in a way that makes the back worse. Totally worth it. Shortly after five, I take her downstairs for a quick feeding. AJ is being great despite clearly not feeling well--he and I launched a rare quadruple-header of movies earlier, and the poor boy should be bouncing off the walls by now, but he's chilling like a champion. It's quiet. A little too quiet. Maybe I'll lie down and stretch my back for a minute. Flat on my bed really does feel best of all. Yup, that's just what I'll do. I might even fall asleep for a minute before we need to get AJ's dinner. This could work. Ahh, yes. The back feels better. It's quiet. I'm absolutely going to nod off for a brilliant five minute snooze.
And then the phone rings...
Friday, April 2, 2010
How easily the wheels can come off
The overdue health update: I was doing very well, until things came apart a little in completely predictable fashion. My last weigh in was a week and a half ago, and that day saw me post a number that put me almost 40 pounds down for 2010. I'm slowly inching back down to my lowest weight of the last two years, with my recent all-time lowest of the last eight or nine years within striking distance. I'm happy with all of this.
Then I went to Arizona for my annual boys trip.
This goes probably exactly like you think it would. I managed to keep things under control out there for the first couple of days--grilled chicken at lunch, some egg whites with chicken and asparagus for a breakfast out, and even a solid workout at the hotel gym. But the reality is that we go on this trip to party like rock stars. And that's what we did. As my good friend Erik surmised, we begin the trips trying to stay healthy and we wrap them up just happy to survive.
Things bottomed out for me on Sunday evening. I had a redeye flight back, which actually seemed like a decent idea at the time I booked it but turned into a nightmare. I was exhausted, so I hit the airport about six hours early, at least thinking that way I'd score a choice exit row window or aisle for sleeping purposes. No such luck. Instead, I grabbed a burger and fries and tried to nap in the terminal. By mid-flight, my previously sore throat now hurt so much that even swallowing water was arduous. I finally got back to Little Rock around 9 AM, grabbed a fast food breakfast on the way home, and made a beeline for my bed. I napped blissfully from about 9:30 to 11, then woke up feeling roughly ten times more tired than before. This was...odd. If it was a prizefight, my corner would have thrown in the towel. I was done. I checked in with B and the kids, who were making their own way home from Memphis at just about that time, meaning I had a few more lovely hours alone to rest. A couple of hours later I dragged my self out of bed, got a sandwich for lunch, and made an appointment to see my doctor the next day.
Diagnosis: sinus infection en route to full blown bronchitis if I hadn't come in. Lovely. The remedy? A steroid shot to dry me out, and a z-pack. While this does aid the short term sinus recovery, it also makes me sluggish, irritable, and starving. Lovely combination, especially coming down from a five day road trip. The wheels are thus off for the moment, because I just need to make it through the weekend before I can ride the healthy train again.
* * *
Then I went to Arizona for my annual boys trip.
This goes probably exactly like you think it would. I managed to keep things under control out there for the first couple of days--grilled chicken at lunch, some egg whites with chicken and asparagus for a breakfast out, and even a solid workout at the hotel gym. But the reality is that we go on this trip to party like rock stars. And that's what we did. As my good friend Erik surmised, we begin the trips trying to stay healthy and we wrap them up just happy to survive.
Things bottomed out for me on Sunday evening. I had a redeye flight back, which actually seemed like a decent idea at the time I booked it but turned into a nightmare. I was exhausted, so I hit the airport about six hours early, at least thinking that way I'd score a choice exit row window or aisle for sleeping purposes. No such luck. Instead, I grabbed a burger and fries and tried to nap in the terminal. By mid-flight, my previously sore throat now hurt so much that even swallowing water was arduous. I finally got back to Little Rock around 9 AM, grabbed a fast food breakfast on the way home, and made a beeline for my bed. I napped blissfully from about 9:30 to 11, then woke up feeling roughly ten times more tired than before. This was...odd. If it was a prizefight, my corner would have thrown in the towel. I was done. I checked in with B and the kids, who were making their own way home from Memphis at just about that time, meaning I had a few more lovely hours alone to rest. A couple of hours later I dragged my self out of bed, got a sandwich for lunch, and made an appointment to see my doctor the next day.
Diagnosis: sinus infection en route to full blown bronchitis if I hadn't come in. Lovely. The remedy? A steroid shot to dry me out, and a z-pack. While this does aid the short term sinus recovery, it also makes me sluggish, irritable, and starving. Lovely combination, especially coming down from a five day road trip. The wheels are thus off for the moment, because I just need to make it through the weekend before I can ride the healthy train again.
Today is a holiday. It didn't seem so long ago when the very word "holiday" inspired visions of relaxation and simple enjoyment. Now it just means finding ways to fill the day when AJ is home from school. Case in point: today. I'm still highly medicated and in my easily agitated-sluggish-state of mind and being. Not exactly ideal conditions for kid-minding, but that's my job, and I do the best I can. Everything was going smoothly enough this morning--a casual little breakfast for the boy while we watched "Cars" burned some time, and Courtney got a nice nap in. Then, as so often seems to be the case, came the miniature version of Death of Calm by A Thousand Blows. First, our next door neighbor started mowing his lawn. Not a big deal, except for two things: one, it always sets the dogs off. Al. Ways. Without fail. Secondly, and this is actually kind of impressive, Mr. Carl's house is on the market, I think he actually lives in St. Louis at the moment, and he still finds a way to get back here and cut the grass seemingly three times a week (NOTE: this might be a slight exaggeration, but very slight. I don't know how the man does it).
Okay, so the mutts are barking. Lock them in the library, done. The girl is up and needs a bottle. It's warming. Get her up. Get the bottle working. Grand. Then, the boy chimes in: "Daddy, I need to poopy!" Of course you do. He has an uncanny knack for needing to drop a deuce at times when I find both of my hands otherwise involved. But that's okay. We can handle this. He's getting better at the solo routine, so we get that started. I bring her and the bottle in to help him finish up and he's basically done his business. Mr. Carl is now mowing the area right outside the library window. Dog volume increases. Set daughter down in her basket for a moment so I can help the boy wipe, flush, etc. Phone rings. It's my wife's grandmother. Dear woman that she is, she wants to pick up a Thomas train or two for the boy's Easter basket. She knows that he has amassed quite a collection and wants to know how she can get one he doesn't own. She remembers hearing something about a Toys R Us registry. I promise to check and get back to her.
Boy is now dressed and clean. Grab daughter with one arm, surf the web with another--a skill I have pretty much perfected at this point. Check the Toys R Us site for the registry. Long story short: their registry stinks. It's wildly confusing and painfully not helpful. Instead, I grab a pad and pen and do a self-inventory of the trains that I can find, writing them down by name. I call Na'Nan back and tell her to come on over. I give her the list, fill her in on the beauty of a simple little item called a "gift receipt," and we're done with that. While this exchange is going on, AJ decides he wants to play with his cars. Which are, at the moment, locked in the library. With the dogs. Who remained there because either one of them could knock poor, petite little Na'Nan over in a heartbeat. Dogs run wild, but luckily all humans avoid incident. Round one of Mr. Carl's Mow-O-Rama has completed, so I stuff the mutts out back. Daughter's bottle is done. Na'Nan is out the door, happily armed with a workable list. Things are once again quiet. For a moment. Until...
"Daddy...I need another Easter treat."
And so it goes...
Okay, so the mutts are barking. Lock them in the library, done. The girl is up and needs a bottle. It's warming. Get her up. Get the bottle working. Grand. Then, the boy chimes in: "Daddy, I need to poopy!" Of course you do. He has an uncanny knack for needing to drop a deuce at times when I find both of my hands otherwise involved. But that's okay. We can handle this. He's getting better at the solo routine, so we get that started. I bring her and the bottle in to help him finish up and he's basically done his business. Mr. Carl is now mowing the area right outside the library window. Dog volume increases. Set daughter down in her basket for a moment so I can help the boy wipe, flush, etc. Phone rings. It's my wife's grandmother. Dear woman that she is, she wants to pick up a Thomas train or two for the boy's Easter basket. She knows that he has amassed quite a collection and wants to know how she can get one he doesn't own. She remembers hearing something about a Toys R Us registry. I promise to check and get back to her.
Boy is now dressed and clean. Grab daughter with one arm, surf the web with another--a skill I have pretty much perfected at this point. Check the Toys R Us site for the registry. Long story short: their registry stinks. It's wildly confusing and painfully not helpful. Instead, I grab a pad and pen and do a self-inventory of the trains that I can find, writing them down by name. I call Na'Nan back and tell her to come on over. I give her the list, fill her in on the beauty of a simple little item called a "gift receipt," and we're done with that. While this exchange is going on, AJ decides he wants to play with his cars. Which are, at the moment, locked in the library. With the dogs. Who remained there because either one of them could knock poor, petite little Na'Nan over in a heartbeat. Dogs run wild, but luckily all humans avoid incident. Round one of Mr. Carl's Mow-O-Rama has completed, so I stuff the mutts out back. Daughter's bottle is done. Na'Nan is out the door, happily armed with a workable list. Things are once again quiet. For a moment. Until...
"Daddy...I need another Easter treat."
And so it goes...
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Escape from Planet Target
I'll update the health watch later, but today saw much more pressing business for me: Easter basket shopping. We were just informed that AJ's school will be having some Easter festivities on Thursday, and that we are required to bring treat-filled eggs for about a dozen kids. This is not a big deal, but it's just one more little purchase mandated by a school that's pretty expensive to begin with. We get hit up for snacks for the whole class, a birthday board that we got way too into...stuff like that. Anyway, since we needed to grab things for class, I decided I'd get everything for the weekend too. B already got us started with some stuff for Courtney, so mostly what I needed was a basket for AJ and some fun stuff to go in it. No problem.
I arrive at the Easter aisles and it is as if someone issued a memo that today was the day to strike. This wasn't Friday or Saturday level shopping, with pitiful, picked-over shelves of sticky chocolate remnants. No, this looked like all of West Little Rock's alpha moms had decided now was the time to attack and get the good stuff. Shopping just under this condition would have been fine. But I had both little ones with me at the time. C was happily chilling in her car seat. But the boy perked up as soon as we reached the good stuff. The phrase "Daddy, I need THAT," was uttered roughly seventy five times over the next five minutes. This wasn't necessarilly a bad thing, because if I was able to angle the cart in just such a way that he could see but not reach something he really wanted, I could then infiltrate the opposite shelf, sneaking items into my cart unnoticed. No small feat with this kid, who catches evidence like a crack CSI team member.
Anyway, my major error was not making a detailed list of exactly what to get. I'm absolutely that guy now. If I go to the store without a list and I need more than two things, it's not working out well for anybody. Now, I actually had a list, but it was too vague. "Easter basket stuff," was an entry. Come on. I'm better than that. I might has well have just written down "BUY STUFF."
Anyway: basket selection. I went with a pretty generic blue one while AJ was distracted by the cooler-looking car and truck ones. While I passed it around my back and deftly dropped it into the cart, he got his paws on a yellow, plush, truck basket and was instantly disappointed. He tugged sadly at the wheels, which didn't turn, because it was just a glorified stuffed animal. "Daddy, this doesn't work," he announced, pushing it back onto the shelf.
Then onto candy. I tried to get a mix of mostly allergy friendly, little treats that would fit into the standard plastic eggs. Now I know that some kids are allergic to chocolate, and let's not sugar coat it (no pun intended), that sucks. I can stray away from peanut butter for school goodies, but I'm drawing the line at chocolate. Okay, not completely. I got some gummi-critters and other stuff too. I didn't say I was drawing a very firm line. But honestly, for candy-centric holiday celebrations, there really must be chocolate.
I made my way to the toy aisle for supplementary basket goodies, including several Hot Wheels cars for the track that AJ has been loving since his birthday. He continued to run down the list of his needs, which included but was not limited to: several sets of cars, numerous trains, some Star Wars stuff, and at least three toys that he didn't even know what they were. Again, the distractions were nice, because I was able to pop my wares under the baby seat without him catching me. Courtney sets a nice screen in her seat, and she was still hanging out quietly.
Then, it was time to check out. Shit. I have to get all of this on the conveyor without him seeing it. I then remembered that both Walt Disney and Steve Jobs are certifiable geniuses that made it possible for me to carry Mickey Mouse around in my pocket. I fired up an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on my iPhone and set it down next to him in the cart. Would that actually work?
Indeed it would. He was riveted. Didn't bat an eye as I lifted his sister out and loaded all the purchases up. But then, she had her issue. Immediate wailing. I realized that it was one o'clock, and she's been ready for her big afternoon bottle about half an hour or so before that lately. Dammit. Time to act like a spy getting to the extraction point as quickly as possible. Boy's still diverted? Check. Set the girl's seat on the ground while I rock it gently with one hand and pay by debit with the other. Mix in the pacifier here and there. Get the bags (and her, to cover them, and to soothe her with the motion of the cart) back in as quickly as possible. Tell AJ that he needs to hold onto my phone while we go to the car. Tactically risky, to be sure, but gambling that he won't randomly decide to fire the phone like a Daniel Bard fastball is a chance I need to take at this point. We're rolling out. He's quiet. She's quiet. The goodies remain undiscovered.
We actually pulled it off.
I arrive at the Easter aisles and it is as if someone issued a memo that today was the day to strike. This wasn't Friday or Saturday level shopping, with pitiful, picked-over shelves of sticky chocolate remnants. No, this looked like all of West Little Rock's alpha moms had decided now was the time to attack and get the good stuff. Shopping just under this condition would have been fine. But I had both little ones with me at the time. C was happily chilling in her car seat. But the boy perked up as soon as we reached the good stuff. The phrase "Daddy, I need THAT," was uttered roughly seventy five times over the next five minutes. This wasn't necessarilly a bad thing, because if I was able to angle the cart in just such a way that he could see but not reach something he really wanted, I could then infiltrate the opposite shelf, sneaking items into my cart unnoticed. No small feat with this kid, who catches evidence like a crack CSI team member.
Anyway, my major error was not making a detailed list of exactly what to get. I'm absolutely that guy now. If I go to the store without a list and I need more than two things, it's not working out well for anybody. Now, I actually had a list, but it was too vague. "Easter basket stuff," was an entry. Come on. I'm better than that. I might has well have just written down "BUY STUFF."
Anyway: basket selection. I went with a pretty generic blue one while AJ was distracted by the cooler-looking car and truck ones. While I passed it around my back and deftly dropped it into the cart, he got his paws on a yellow, plush, truck basket and was instantly disappointed. He tugged sadly at the wheels, which didn't turn, because it was just a glorified stuffed animal. "Daddy, this doesn't work," he announced, pushing it back onto the shelf.
Then onto candy. I tried to get a mix of mostly allergy friendly, little treats that would fit into the standard plastic eggs. Now I know that some kids are allergic to chocolate, and let's not sugar coat it (no pun intended), that sucks. I can stray away from peanut butter for school goodies, but I'm drawing the line at chocolate. Okay, not completely. I got some gummi-critters and other stuff too. I didn't say I was drawing a very firm line. But honestly, for candy-centric holiday celebrations, there really must be chocolate.
I made my way to the toy aisle for supplementary basket goodies, including several Hot Wheels cars for the track that AJ has been loving since his birthday. He continued to run down the list of his needs, which included but was not limited to: several sets of cars, numerous trains, some Star Wars stuff, and at least three toys that he didn't even know what they were. Again, the distractions were nice, because I was able to pop my wares under the baby seat without him catching me. Courtney sets a nice screen in her seat, and she was still hanging out quietly.
Then, it was time to check out. Shit. I have to get all of this on the conveyor without him seeing it. I then remembered that both Walt Disney and Steve Jobs are certifiable geniuses that made it possible for me to carry Mickey Mouse around in my pocket. I fired up an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on my iPhone and set it down next to him in the cart. Would that actually work?
Indeed it would. He was riveted. Didn't bat an eye as I lifted his sister out and loaded all the purchases up. But then, she had her issue. Immediate wailing. I realized that it was one o'clock, and she's been ready for her big afternoon bottle about half an hour or so before that lately. Dammit. Time to act like a spy getting to the extraction point as quickly as possible. Boy's still diverted? Check. Set the girl's seat on the ground while I rock it gently with one hand and pay by debit with the other. Mix in the pacifier here and there. Get the bags (and her, to cover them, and to soothe her with the motion of the cart) back in as quickly as possible. Tell AJ that he needs to hold onto my phone while we go to the car. Tactically risky, to be sure, but gambling that he won't randomly decide to fire the phone like a Daniel Bard fastball is a chance I need to take at this point. We're rolling out. He's quiet. She's quiet. The goodies remain undiscovered.
We actually pulled it off.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
"A pretty nice little Saturday, actually."
I remember the days when Saturday meant sleeping in, deciding which games to watch, and then going out. Here is what today's looked like:
* Get the boy up and fed.
* Assemble his Christmas gift Batman Big Wheel since it is finally nice enough to use it.
* Take the boy for a hair cut.
* Pick up some new clothes for the kids because they are both growing like weeds.
* Get a few groceries for tonight.
* Get home, get everyone fed.
* Fill up the car.
* And get it washed.
* Pick up some birthday stuff for A.J. at Target, along with some pajamas for Courtney since she has outgrown practically every pair she now has.
* Grab some big quantity items at Sam's Club.
* Stop at Kroger to pick up two things I forget to get earlier. I now have a brain like a marshmallow, and if I don't write things down on my list, I almost always forget them.
* Come home. Five minutes of down time to check email and write this before both of the kids will be up. This will probably be followed by:
* Snack time.
* Outside play time.
* World War III when we announce that outside play time is ending.
* Cook dinner.
* Eat dinner.
* Slyly convince AJ to eat something green that grew in the ground at dinner.
* Bath time.
* Story time.
* Bed time.
* Clean up or laundry for a bit.
* Then, finally, relax.
And this is now a typical Saturday. I'm not complaining, just observing how much things change. Do they still have one dollar drafts at Balboa Cafe in Tempe???
* Get the boy up and fed.
* Assemble his Christmas gift Batman Big Wheel since it is finally nice enough to use it.
* Take the boy for a hair cut.
* Pick up some new clothes for the kids because they are both growing like weeds.
* Get a few groceries for tonight.
* Get home, get everyone fed.
* Fill up the car.
* And get it washed.
* Pick up some birthday stuff for A.J. at Target, along with some pajamas for Courtney since she has outgrown practically every pair she now has.
* Grab some big quantity items at Sam's Club.
* Stop at Kroger to pick up two things I forget to get earlier. I now have a brain like a marshmallow, and if I don't write things down on my list, I almost always forget them.
* Come home. Five minutes of down time to check email and write this before both of the kids will be up. This will probably be followed by:
* Snack time.
* Outside play time.
* World War III when we announce that outside play time is ending.
* Cook dinner.
* Eat dinner.
* Slyly convince AJ to eat something green that grew in the ground at dinner.
* Bath time.
* Story time.
* Bed time.
* Clean up or laundry for a bit.
* Then, finally, relax.
And this is now a typical Saturday. I'm not complaining, just observing how much things change. Do they still have one dollar drafts at Balboa Cafe in Tempe???
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Redemption
With the sting of last week's eggroll-fueled weight gain fresh in my mind, I had a really good week of healthy living. I'm still working on finding a way of making this a realistic lifestyle, rather than just a crash diet, but over the last seven days I found a pretty good balance. We had two not-entirely-healthy meals: one delivery pizza, and one night out. The pizza happened on a night when the family was flustered and pressured for time, so we ordered Papa John's. They were running a special with every large pizza on sale for ten bucks, with as many toppings as you like. I remember reading in one of the "Eat This, Not That" articles that the thin crust with veggie toppings was a solid option at Papa John's, so that is basically what I opted for. I got their thin crust for the first time ever, and I was happy with it--crunchy and tasty. We had tried their whole wheat crust once before and it was pretty dreadful, so I was cautious but ended up very happy. I got a bunch of vegetables and grilled chicken. Yes, it pained me to stray from my customary sausage or meat bonanza, but I knew it was the right way to go. Apparently Papa has decided to cut back on the quantity of the meat toppings along with the new sale--either that, or there is some statewide poultry shortage I'm unaware of, because our chicken consisted of what looked like a tiny strip or two diced and scattered around the pie. But that was fine.
Beth got a great bonus at work so one night we wanted to go out for a mild celebratory dinner. We went to Corky's, one of our favorite local BBQ joints. I got a pulled pork sandwich. I skipped their rolls, which are great. I passed on their french fries, which are also fantastic. And I didn't even consider their pecan pie, which is delicious. I had a sandwich with a side of beans, and I didn't even finish those. I have discovered that I will not, in fact, get struck by a lightning bolt if I finish a meal and leave some food on my plate.
My final culinary success choice of the week came on Tuesday evening, when I had to head to Oaklawn in Hot Springs for a poker tournament. I had the, umm, experience of eating there once before, at their sumptuous buffet, where even attempting to be a healthy person is a notion you should check at the door. Even their vegetable side items were all soaked in oil, drenched in butter, or, quite possibly, both. So what did I do this time, you might ask? Did I just deal with the buffet and make do with something? Did I go somewhere else from some quick fast food?
Nope. I brought a turkey sandwich on whole wheat. That's right. I am now a guy that goes to a CASINO and brings a healthy sandwich to eat in the car. What am I, 80? No, no I'm not. I'm someone trying to make the right choices. I went there for the poker, not for the food. I couldn't have been more proud of doing that. It was a small moment...and yet, kind of a big one.
Wednesday morning was weigh-in day. I got a few workouts in last week, including one really good weight lifting session where I doubled my usual upper body work. Would it show up on the scale? Or would I get a discouraging one or two pound loss, representing only what I gained last week?
Seven and a half pounds shed. Boom. It felt like I had a decent loss this week--I can actually feel it in my gut sometimes. And I'm talking about literally, as in, "Hey, my big, fat gut feels a little smaller this week," and not the kind of gut feeling people usually talk about. I thought there was potential for a four or five pound drop. But seven and a half is a great reward for doing things the right way. With another good week I can cross one of those lovely ten-pound thresholds next week, which would set me up for the chance to possibly cross another one before I head out to Arizona to see the boys in March. But until then, I'll just keep trying to do the right thing, because so far, that is working.
Beth got a great bonus at work so one night we wanted to go out for a mild celebratory dinner. We went to Corky's, one of our favorite local BBQ joints. I got a pulled pork sandwich. I skipped their rolls, which are great. I passed on their french fries, which are also fantastic. And I didn't even consider their pecan pie, which is delicious. I had a sandwich with a side of beans, and I didn't even finish those. I have discovered that I will not, in fact, get struck by a lightning bolt if I finish a meal and leave some food on my plate.
My final culinary success choice of the week came on Tuesday evening, when I had to head to Oaklawn in Hot Springs for a poker tournament. I had the, umm, experience of eating there once before, at their sumptuous buffet, where even attempting to be a healthy person is a notion you should check at the door. Even their vegetable side items were all soaked in oil, drenched in butter, or, quite possibly, both. So what did I do this time, you might ask? Did I just deal with the buffet and make do with something? Did I go somewhere else from some quick fast food?
Nope. I brought a turkey sandwich on whole wheat. That's right. I am now a guy that goes to a CASINO and brings a healthy sandwich to eat in the car. What am I, 80? No, no I'm not. I'm someone trying to make the right choices. I went there for the poker, not for the food. I couldn't have been more proud of doing that. It was a small moment...and yet, kind of a big one.
Wednesday morning was weigh-in day. I got a few workouts in last week, including one really good weight lifting session where I doubled my usual upper body work. Would it show up on the scale? Or would I get a discouraging one or two pound loss, representing only what I gained last week?
Seven and a half pounds shed. Boom. It felt like I had a decent loss this week--I can actually feel it in my gut sometimes. And I'm talking about literally, as in, "Hey, my big, fat gut feels a little smaller this week," and not the kind of gut feeling people usually talk about. I thought there was potential for a four or five pound drop. But seven and a half is a great reward for doing things the right way. With another good week I can cross one of those lovely ten-pound thresholds next week, which would set me up for the chance to possibly cross another one before I head out to Arizona to see the boys in March. But until then, I'll just keep trying to do the right thing, because so far, that is working.
Friday, February 19, 2010
One week down
Beth went back to work full-time this week, which meant that I got to care for the two little ones all by myself. B had worked from home for the last couple of weeks, so that was a nice way to ease into it. But having her go back on a holiday was definitely me jumping into the daddy deep end. But the week is over, and everyone survived. Here are some highlights and lowlights:
* Not once, but twice, A.J. needed to poop at home right when I was giving Courtney a bottle. The first time, he was all business. His little seat was already on the toilet and he was stripped down to his underpants, since he had given me signals that he would need to go. Then, without any fanfare or whining, he simply announced, "Daddy, I need to poopy," and went in by himself as if he was headed out for a casual meeting or a cup of coffee. That was great! Courtney and I went in to help him wrap up, but he had taken care of most of the business all on his own. The next day? Same drill, him needing to do the deed while I was feeding her. But this time, it was sudden, defined by the urgent tone in his voice. I executed the one-handed code brown fire drill fast enough to get him situated on the pot while still holding the baby and the bottle. Mission accomplished again. I'd be fine if poopy training became much less exciting in the weeks ahead.
* More bathroom adventures: A.J.'s teacher at school informed me that he now has a "bathroom buddy." Apparently the two of them love to go take leaks as a pair. First off: whatever works. But secondly, it's cool, because this is another boy that A.J. has talked about by name, which is something he rarely does. When I arrived for pick up one day this week, they were having a blast out back, with my little man pushing his buddy around in a car. Good times.
* My weigh in this week reminded me of an important little fact: when I eat crappy food and don't work out as much, I tend to gain weight...SHOCKING! I didn't go overboard or fall off the wagon, but my minor step back can be attributed to three things: 1) Family pizza night out on a Friday, a time when I clearly should have stopped a slice or two before I did. 2) Chinese delivery on Valentine's Day, as I mentioned before. And 3) I only made it to the gym twice last week. The schedule was just slammed with Beth going back full time, and that's how it is going to be from now on, so I just need to make a concerted effort to get there at least three times a week. Anyway, my net gain for the week was less than two pounds, and I bet a big chunk of that might just be water retention from the crazy sodium levels in the take out or something. But anyway, I should not be gaining at all right now, holidays or not.
As for how things are going with my little lady...well, she probably requires a post of her own sometime soon.
* Not once, but twice, A.J. needed to poop at home right when I was giving Courtney a bottle. The first time, he was all business. His little seat was already on the toilet and he was stripped down to his underpants, since he had given me signals that he would need to go. Then, without any fanfare or whining, he simply announced, "Daddy, I need to poopy," and went in by himself as if he was headed out for a casual meeting or a cup of coffee. That was great! Courtney and I went in to help him wrap up, but he had taken care of most of the business all on his own. The next day? Same drill, him needing to do the deed while I was feeding her. But this time, it was sudden, defined by the urgent tone in his voice. I executed the one-handed code brown fire drill fast enough to get him situated on the pot while still holding the baby and the bottle. Mission accomplished again. I'd be fine if poopy training became much less exciting in the weeks ahead.
* More bathroom adventures: A.J.'s teacher at school informed me that he now has a "bathroom buddy." Apparently the two of them love to go take leaks as a pair. First off: whatever works. But secondly, it's cool, because this is another boy that A.J. has talked about by name, which is something he rarely does. When I arrived for pick up one day this week, they were having a blast out back, with my little man pushing his buddy around in a car. Good times.
* My weigh in this week reminded me of an important little fact: when I eat crappy food and don't work out as much, I tend to gain weight...SHOCKING! I didn't go overboard or fall off the wagon, but my minor step back can be attributed to three things: 1) Family pizza night out on a Friday, a time when I clearly should have stopped a slice or two before I did. 2) Chinese delivery on Valentine's Day, as I mentioned before. And 3) I only made it to the gym twice last week. The schedule was just slammed with Beth going back full time, and that's how it is going to be from now on, so I just need to make a concerted effort to get there at least three times a week. Anyway, my net gain for the week was less than two pounds, and I bet a big chunk of that might just be water retention from the crazy sodium levels in the take out or something. But anyway, I should not be gaining at all right now, holidays or not.
As for how things are going with my little lady...well, she probably requires a post of her own sometime soon.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Food hangover
I've done really well sticking to the healthy eating pretty much all the time lately. I was reminded of that this morning when I woke up with a severe Chinese food hangover.
We had no big Valentine's Day plans and ended up getting Chinese delivery. It was convenient, and it worked well with the kids, and at the time it tasted great. But this morning I woke up feeling worse than I often do (or, really, used to) after a big night out on the town. A lot of the symptoms were even the same: dehydration, dry mouth, slight headache, less-than-stellar stomach. Really, this is where I am now? After a month of healthy eating some crispy shrimp and egg rolls can do me in like a night of pounding shots? Okay, good to know.
I'm now down 25 pounds since the start of the year, which is great. I have not been able to get to the gym as often the last couple of weeks, so I'm very satisfied with losing four pounds and change each of the last two weeks. I'm still working to get back down to where I was recently, and at my current pace I should be back to that by next month sometime. Beth is back to the office full time today, so it's going to be interesting trying to slot in a couple of good gym sessions during the week now, but we will find a way to make it work.
The kids are great. AJ has had a plethora of snow days recently, so we've had extra time for fun and bonding at home. I've started his education on some Disney animated classics. It helps that he has a couple of big story books with the same characters. So far I think Dumbo might be his favorite old-timer, but he enjoyed Peter Pan as well. After that one he decided he was a crocodile and he started chomping everything around him. At least I have an actual excuse in case he bites anyone at school.
We had no big Valentine's Day plans and ended up getting Chinese delivery. It was convenient, and it worked well with the kids, and at the time it tasted great. But this morning I woke up feeling worse than I often do (or, really, used to) after a big night out on the town. A lot of the symptoms were even the same: dehydration, dry mouth, slight headache, less-than-stellar stomach. Really, this is where I am now? After a month of healthy eating some crispy shrimp and egg rolls can do me in like a night of pounding shots? Okay, good to know.
I'm now down 25 pounds since the start of the year, which is great. I have not been able to get to the gym as often the last couple of weeks, so I'm very satisfied with losing four pounds and change each of the last two weeks. I'm still working to get back down to where I was recently, and at my current pace I should be back to that by next month sometime. Beth is back to the office full time today, so it's going to be interesting trying to slot in a couple of good gym sessions during the week now, but we will find a way to make it work.
The kids are great. AJ has had a plethora of snow days recently, so we've had extra time for fun and bonding at home. I've started his education on some Disney animated classics. It helps that he has a couple of big story books with the same characters. So far I think Dumbo might be his favorite old-timer, but he enjoyed Peter Pan as well. After that one he decided he was a crocodile and he started chomping everything around him. At least I have an actual excuse in case he bites anyone at school.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Out
We went out to eat on Tuesday night. Normally this is not a momentous event at all but it is the first time we've done it since we hit the hard core health kick just after New Year's Day. All things considered, it was decent, but here are the lowlights:
1. I went to a restaurant that I knew had at least a few semi-healthy options. Their menu has changed since the last time I ate there...for the worse. Who does that in 2010? Restaurants of every type are making things healthier, yet I found a menu that offered me almost no solid options.
2. Bread and pasta=health fail. I had more bread than I should have. Same for the angel hair pasta. I've barely touched either the last three weeks, so it's fine. But I could have done better with a little less of each.
3. Salmon. One of the healthiest foods out there, and something I make at home about once a week now. And I like mine better. The restaurant salmon was overcooked and came with a citrus-balsamic glaze that tasted good, but was probably a little too loaded with sugar and badness.
4. Sauteed spinach. Wildly undercooked and especially bland. Or perhaps I just overcook mine at home and prefer it that way. But wow, I thought this would be the one sure thing going for me on my plate. I had to salt it up to make it halfway decent.
It was nice to get out. The kids were both good (for the most part, aside from A.J. climbing in the booth a little) and it was nice to have a quiet dinner away from home. But from a nutrition and taste point of view, it was frustrating just because the best parts of the dinner were the things that weren't good for me. And that's fine. It just reinforces the fact that I'm doing the right thing by having almost all of my meals at home.
EDIT: I wrote the above before I went to the gym on Wednesday morning...where I proceeded to have a great workout. I felt strong and added some weight to my upper body lifting routine. So the moral of the story seems to be that mixing in some somewhat bad carbs every now and then probably isn't bad at all.
1. I went to a restaurant that I knew had at least a few semi-healthy options. Their menu has changed since the last time I ate there...for the worse. Who does that in 2010? Restaurants of every type are making things healthier, yet I found a menu that offered me almost no solid options.
2. Bread and pasta=health fail. I had more bread than I should have. Same for the angel hair pasta. I've barely touched either the last three weeks, so it's fine. But I could have done better with a little less of each.
3. Salmon. One of the healthiest foods out there, and something I make at home about once a week now. And I like mine better. The restaurant salmon was overcooked and came with a citrus-balsamic glaze that tasted good, but was probably a little too loaded with sugar and badness.
4. Sauteed spinach. Wildly undercooked and especially bland. Or perhaps I just overcook mine at home and prefer it that way. But wow, I thought this would be the one sure thing going for me on my plate. I had to salt it up to make it halfway decent.
It was nice to get out. The kids were both good (for the most part, aside from A.J. climbing in the booth a little) and it was nice to have a quiet dinner away from home. But from a nutrition and taste point of view, it was frustrating just because the best parts of the dinner were the things that weren't good for me. And that's fine. It just reinforces the fact that I'm doing the right thing by having almost all of my meals at home.
EDIT: I wrote the above before I went to the gym on Wednesday morning...where I proceeded to have a great workout. I felt strong and added some weight to my upper body lifting routine. So the moral of the story seems to be that mixing in some somewhat bad carbs every now and then probably isn't bad at all.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Cook This, Not That
When I'm trying to be healthy, especially when I'm just getting started again and being really vigilant about eating, I need to eat at home. It's easier to make nutritious meals, but sometimes I get bored from making the same things over and over. So I recently picked up Cook This, Not That, a little cookbook from the "Eat This, Not That" company. It has been great so far. We do salmon once a week so on Monday I made their version, with an easy honey mustard glaze that was fantastic. Since I had bought fresh honey and dijon mustard, I wanted another recipe using those ingredients so I opted for chicken tenders with a honey-mustard-chipotle sauce and they were great. They were baked and had a panko bread crumb coating that made for a nice crunch. Then last night I made their sliders two ways, using 92% lean ground sirloin. One recipe was kind of a steakhouse flavor, with bleu cheese and mushrooms, and the other had bacon, cheddar, and a great spicy chipotle mayo. I've also used some of their recipes for side dishes and so far everything has been really delicious. In addition to the recipes, the book also gives complete and detailed nutritional information as well as offering a restaurant "not that" version of the same dish. The differences between things that look nearly identical can be staggering. It's so easy to make the healthier versions that you really have to wonder what restaurants are doing to make their stuff so bad for you.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
And we're back!
Hi there, how are you? Long time!
Let's just skip the rambling explanation of the layoff, the wrap up of the various injuries and maladies, the cliched but valid enthusiasm brought about by the New Year, and just jump right back into this.
So, I'm now a father of, *gulp*, two kids. And I have returned to the challenging world of healthy living. I started back down that path, hopefully FOREVER, two weeks ago today, and it has gone very well so far. My first weigh in yielded an encouraging yet artificially inflated first week weight loss of over ten pounds. It was real, but inflated because the "before" weigh in was later in the day, I actually waited longer than a week to do it, etc. etc. yadda yadda yadda. But it's real. Week two has gone even better, judging by how I actually feel. I no longer turn into a ravenous monster that feels the need to feed after dinner like some sort of brain-munching zombie. Except, you know, not brains. Usually cereal in my case, strangely enough. But anyway...I'm working through that. The exercise is going well too. Beth is still home on maternity leave and A.J. is in school five days a week so I have the time and ability to knock out great workout sessions all week long. I even got to the gym five times this past week, which is the first time I've done that in...well, I don't even know exactly how long. I'd say nine or ten months, at least. But it is a long journey ahead of me. I still have quite a ways to go just to get back down to where I was in the spring. I'm shooting for that as an initial target, and then I'll ponder some other big-picture health goals.
So two kids. Yeah. That's...different. And certainly a topic that requires its own posts on another day. But thing are going very well with them so far. They are adorable together, and the experience the second time, at least for me, as something all new. As babies go, these two could not have been more different. I'm sure that will continue forever, and that's just part of the fun.
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