Anti back to school days.

It was not so long ago that I dreaded these days...back to school. I'm not going to lie to you. I prefer not working over working, summer vacation over school days and generally not being responsible to anyone other than my family. It's not that I don't like teaching. I do. Teaching was a great fit for me. I got to spend time with children, and I like children. I was given an outlet for creativity through instruction. I worked with a great bunch of people (seriously great people - I can't even express how amazing my coworkers were). And truly it was fun watching kids learn, mature, and get excited about things like learning a new skill or a silly song or goofy game. Even though I liked my job I looked forward to summer vacation and hated to see it come to an end. I think most teachers experience the same thing. But there was a sense of excitement and fun at the beginning of the school year that I enjoyed. I always thought it was fun to reconnect with work buddies and get to know the kids and come up with new ideas for the classroom. Now that I'm not on the school scene anymore I feel a little nostalgic as I reminisce about how fun my job was. But not to worry. Those feelings will dissipate the next time I see a misbehaving child at the store.

Have you seen a baby lift weights? I have.

I'm always on the lookout for new toys. I think the reason is that we spend a lot of time at home, Benjamin and I, and you can only play with the same toys for so long before little eyes start to wander towards things like the stereo or the PS3 or the antique lamp. It always seems like new toys provide a little extra distraction for busy Ben and allow me to get a few things done around the house. They may even give me the opportunity to go to the bathroom or eat lunch. The other reason I like looking for new toys may or may not have something to do with the fact that I like to shop. People have been telling me that babies are just as happy playing with an empty box as they are playing with the expensive toy that came inside said box. I have found that to be true many times. Benjamin has played with and inside of his fair share of empty boxes. He's played with my pots and pans, empty food containers (today it was the Hershey's cocoa container that occupied Ben while I baked brownies), water bottles, and much, much more. But no matter what interesting little doodads I give to Benjamin he has a knack for getting into the things he's not supposed to. The other day it was my small hand weights. I hide them behind Osa's doggy bed. He found them. I hid them. He found them. I hid them. He found them. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. At first I didn't think he should have them since he might pinch a finger or something, but he is a persistent little thing, and I hate to admit it...he wore me down. I know. I know. It might just be hand weights today, but before I know it I'll be battling with him over homework and curfews and the like. Don't worry. I'm giving Benjamin his fair share of guidance and correction. I'm a teacher after all. There's plenty of control freakishness going on around this joint. Just ask my husband. Besides after seeing how much he loved playing with the weights, lifting them and pushing them around the floor, I decided it would make a pretty cute picture. And really, who am I to dissuade my child from healthful physical activity? Also, it kept him out of the no-no's for at least 10 minutes, and let's face it, 10 minutes is a lot of time in baby world.

How an innocent comment can bring out the junior high school boy in nearly every man.

Buns! Oh my goodness, you have not had a good bun until you have eaten one of these. I know that I should probably call them rolls in an effort to eliminate any confusion as to whether I am referencing buns or buns (you know what I mean). I think the original came from my grandma, but my dad has tweaked this amazing recipe for the rolls pictured above. Not kidding, the sweetest, softest, best rolls I have ever eaten. He shared the recipe with me and now I make them quite regularly for gatherings with friends or just for our daily bread. Every time I've made them they are gone in a flash. There was one particular time that our company enjoyed the rolls and a good laugh. During that meal everybody was saying how good the buns were and I went on and on saying things like "I know, my dad's buns are so soft" and "My dad has the best buns". I didn't even realize what I was saying until all of the guys starting giggling like a bunch of junior high school boys. By the time Jeff clued me in to what they were laughing at I had probably made at least a half dozen comments about my dad's buns...soft, fluffy, sweet, etc. Now that I know how juvenile males, even grown men, can be about "buns" I try to use more discretion when it comes to word choice. But the joke continues. Recently we had some friends over and Jeff was sure to tell them the story while I was out of the room and encouraged them to compliment me on my soft, fluffy buns. Oh well, I guess I'd rather have people joking about my buns than my rolls.

Daddy's Roll Recipe

Combine 2tsp dried yeast, 1/2 tsp sugar and 1/2 cup of warm water in a large glass. Set aside.

In a sauce pan heat 1/3 cup of shortening, 1 cup milk and 1 tbsp honey (my dad uses 2% milk but I've used skim and it works fine too). Heat to 180 degrees.

Meanwhile in a large bowl beat one egg. Add ie1 tsp salt and 1/3 cup sugar.

When the milk and honey mixture reaches 180 degrees add it to the egg mixture. Allow the contents to cool until the temperature has lowered to 80 degrees. Stir occasionally. For rapid cooling set bowl in cold water.

While this is cooling sift 4 1/2 cups of flour.

After the milk and egg mixture has cooled to the desired temperature add the yeast mixture and stir together. Then stir in all but 1/2 cup of the flour with a wooden spoon. You may have to use your hands to mix the dough well.

Knead the dough for about 7 minutes adding the reserved 1/2 cup of flour as you do so. The dough should not stick to your hands and should spring back after it has been properly kneaded. My dad does this by hand. I use my Kitchenaid mixer. You can find tips on YouTube for either method.

Grease a bowl. Place dough inside. Cover (I use a hand towel) and allow to rise for about 1 hour. Punch dough down to remove air. Allow to rise for another hour. Form dough into balls about the size of a golf ball (larger for hamburger buns) Place on greased cookie sheet. Allow to rise once more.

Preheat oven to 330-350 degrees (I do 330 because my oven bakes hot). Bake for about 12 minutes or until golden brown.

Enjoy and brag about your buns.

Don't say I didn't tell you.

Have you ever experienced the humiliation and pain of falling on a treadmill? I have. It's terrible. Yes, I'm that girl who wasn't paying attention to what she was doing because she was too busy watching TLC's "What Not To Wear" and tripped all because she was trying to learn how to be more fashionable. Running disaster. And if you saw what I wear most days you would also know that I'm no more fashionable as a result of my dedication to watching the television program either. Currently I am wearing sweats and a t-shirt but to my credit it is past 10pm. Anyway, I wasn't wearing the safety clip. I fell. It hurt. A lot. Then within one month's time the very same thing happened again. So I decided I should either clip myself to the safety key or I should run with knee pads and a helmet. I opted to wear the clip. In my defense I was running on one of those long-distance treadmills with treads on the belt and I'm pretty sure that's why I tripped...that, and perhaps a little clumsiness on my part.

Every time I go to the gym and hop on a treadmill this (see picture) is what I see. Does everybody wrap the safety clip around the handles like this? I have never seen anybody else use a clip. In fact, I have never seen a clip that looks as if it has been used. So each time I get ready for my run (although it's really more of a jog these days) I unwind the cord and attach it to my shorts. I'm sure it annoys the next runner and they probably wonder why anybody would use the safety clip. Obviously those people have never had the adventure of falling on a treadmill...twice.

Perhaps I am the only person above the age of 5 who has ever fallen or nearly fallen on a treadmill and perhaps I am the only one who ever will. But the clip is right there. I would use it if I were you. Then again, if I were you I probably wouldn't have fallen in the first place. If you were me, then you should DEFINITELY wear the clip. And if you choose not to use the clip, don't say I didn't tell you. And don't watch "What Not To Wear" when operating a treadmill either...or any heavy machinery for that matter.

Everything is temporary.

There are times when I think that residency is not so bad. This is not one of those times. I'm selfish about my time with my husband and I miss him terribly when he is gone night after night, working long shifts and catching on sleep during the day. It's times like these when I feel like residency is something I'm trying to endure, which may sound silly since I'm more of a spectator than a participant in this journey. But endure is indeed the word I am feeling.

He never shows it, but it must be tough on him too. I admire him. There is no way that I could do what he does. Obviously I'm not a doctor (I don't even play one on TV), so technically I couldn't do it anyway. But even if I had the degree and the knowledge and the ability to perform well under pressure I simply could not do it. I would not be able to function under the hours or the pressure or the gravity of it all. I try to remind myself of that when I'm feeling mopey about it. It gives me an appreciation for the challenges my husband conquers every day.

I let my imagination wander a bit today as I was tempted to craft a letter to the hospital asking if they could loan Jeff out to me and Benjamin or give him time off for good behavior. It's hard to see him go off to work every night and it's even more difficult to welcome him home only to realize he needs to sleep during the day. It's such a tease to know that he's home and down the hall and not be able to spend time together. During these rotations I miss eating dinner as a family, listening to Jeff and Benjamin play together, and cuddling on the couch to watch a movie after putting the baby to bed.

This is, of course, no tragedy and when compared to life's big picture my situation really is not that bad. In fact, it seems a little silly to make such a big deal about the woes of residency when I know full well that there is real suffering going on in the world around me. But in a small way it deepens my belief in this...it's temporary. Circumstances in life may be difficult or disappointing, even heart-wrenching. But they are temporary. Everything here on Earth is temporary. Something happens. You deal with it. You move on. It may last a very short time. It may last a very long time. But it will only be for a time.

So I will save myself $0.44 because I don't need to send that letter to the hospital. Benjamin and I will get to spend more time with Jeff next month, and I will treasure it because that will be temporary too!

High fives are still cool.

Today Benjamin spontaneously decided to start giving high fives. My folks were visiting for a few days and as he was giving them hugs and kisses goodbye he suddenly threw out his little hand and gave my mom a high five. Of course I realize that fist bumps and complicated hand shakes and such are allegedly cooler than Benjamin's new trick, but I grew up in an era where high fives were the thing to do. We also tight-rolled our jeans and teased our bangs until they stood 4 inches above our heads. I no longer subscribe to those trends, but this is different. So give your high fives as much as you like. I love watching you learn your new tricks and I think it's totally dope, little dude.

Please do not judge the cleanliness of my child based upon the carrots and broccoli that are covering him and the surrounding area. They have since been removed.

Watch out for the broccoli.

It's always good when you discover that something about your appearance may embarrass you before you go out in public (zipper down, lipstick on teeth, etc.). You may inwardly experience a little humility, but if the situation is contained and witnessed only by you then no harm done. That's why I was so glad that I discovered the broccoli that Benjamin deposited in my hair before I left the house. I'm not sure if he was trying to hide his food so he wouldn't have to finish it or if he was storing it for later consumption. Either way I'm still left wondering how it got there as Ben was sitting in his highchair and my head was a good 2 feet from his vegetable hands throughout the entire meal. Maybe he threw it at me when I wasn't looking. At any rate I would like to issue this general warning... If you serve a small child steamed broccoli and allow him to feed himself you may be finding little green bits of mush on more than just the highchair and surrounding surfaces (table, wall, floor, ceiling). Also be warned that the dog may not be interested in cleaning the food off of the floor in her usual way. Apparently steamed broccoli does not have the same appeal for dogs as other foods like turkey or lasagna. It would be a good idea to invest in a mop if you should find yourself feeding a small child such things. Now to work on converting the dog to a vegetarian lifestyle.

Puppies!

What is more fun than having a boy and a dog to entertain you? A boy and 2 dogs. My parents' little fluff of a dog was visiting for the weekend while my folks enjoyed an outdoor bluegrass festival to which no dogs are permitted. Apparently hillbillies and hippies can attend, but canines are out of the question. Benjamin had a wonderful time with two dogs in the house. He greeted both pups each morning, watching them stretch and getting good morning kisses from both of them. The dogs romped around quite a bit playing tug o' war and teasing one another and Benjamin couldn't get enough. He loved watching them tussle. If the dogs were doing anything other than laying down Benjamin was watching their every move. And when the puppies went outside he was ever watchful, not wanting to miss out on any of the excitement. Double the doggies, double the fun....at least for a few days anyway.

Yeah, I just did that.

My child cannot wait to walk and he will turn anything that isn't nailed to the floor into a walker so that he get from here to there. Dining room chairs, a box of diapers, his Leap Frog table, even the quilt rack have been victims of his creative use. When Benjamin manages to waddle his way around the house he gets pretty tickled with himself. Either he'll flash a big smile or a proud look. His most recent tool for getting around is the riding toy he got from his grandparents for his birthday. He is already getting so much use out of this early birthday gift that he may just wear it out before he turns 1. We're working on actually riding the riding toy, but in the meantime pushing it all over the house is lots of fun. I'm just hoping he doesn't try this out on the dog when I'm not looking.

I love the way he looks at the camera and nods when he finishes his walk. It's like he's saying, "Yeah, I just did that."

Shopping Spree

This morning I went "shopping" with a sweet friend and her little boy. We hit about a half a dozen garage sales and found some really great deals. I don't always have good luck when I look through other people's junk, but today was one of those days I could have scoured the town for hours because I was finding such great stuff. Unfortunately we had to stop our shopping spree because Benjamin was hungry and tired. Apparently he runs the show. If only he realized everything I was buying was for him (with the exception of one pair of gardening gloves)....he may have chewed on his fingers a bit longer to stave off the hunger. Regardless we made out pretty good.

Here's what we found:

6 board books
Fisher-Price Chatter Telephone
Fisher-Price Laugh & Learn Puppy
bag filled with clothes
toy lawnmower
gardening gloves

Total = $12.00!!!

Lots of inexpensive goodies and the company of a friend...money and time well spent!

You are a big deal to me!

For months I've been trying to teach Ben to clap. I've tried everything. Patty-cake, clapping celebrations for every little thing he does, clapping to music. He loves to watch me clap but never showed any interest in trying it himself. Then suddenly tonight as I was feeding him his dinner he spontaneously began clapping. He didn't even seem to realize that he was doing it until I made a big fuss about it. I cheered and clapped and laughed at him. It was then that Benjamin realized he had stumbled on to something big. Really big. He looked at me and clapped. He looked at Jeff and clapped. He looked at his hands and clapped. It was so sweet to see how proud he was of himself. It's funny how these little moments are such a big deal to parents (first smiles, rolling over, sitting, babbling, standing, clapping) when down the road the big deals will be made of up drivers licenses, graduations, first jobs and so much more. In the grand scheme of things these small activities that Benjamin is learning will seem so insignificant compared to the things he may do in the future. I still think it's amazing how this little person who was in my womb less than one year ago has already learned so much. So clap on little, man. You are a big deal to me!

My Precious

I've been offering Benjamin a sippy cup for some time now in hopes that he would one day discover how to drink from it. Up until today I was getting a little concerned that when the time came to ween him he would have a hard time adjusting. My bottle-battling boy resists taking milk from anything other than me and we are getting pretty close to his cut-off date. He likes it straight from the tap so I wondered what I would do with him if he wouldn't take a bottle AND he didn't know how to drink from his little cup. But today was the day. Benjamin suddenly discovered that if he didn't just bite the sippy cup he could actually get something out of it. What a relief. The best part of it all was that after he realized that he was drinking from the cup he couldn't get enough of it. He held onto it like Gollum and it was almost as if he was saying "My Precious" with his eyes. Okay buddy, I'm excited you figured it out, but let's not go overboard here, okay?

Fat girl, skinny girl, and somewhere in between.

I've been a fat girl. I've been a skinny girl. And now I'm a mama who knows what it's like to be both, terrified of one and longing to be the other again. This post is not meant to drum up compliments nor is it for my own edification, so please don't feel the need to give attention to either. It's just that lately I've been thinking a lot about what it's like to be a woman, fat or skinny, or somewhere in between who struggles with the way she looks. Believe it or not, a girl can feel bad about herself if she's fat or if she's skinny. Self-image isn't really ever about a person's outward appearance. It's really about thoughts. I struggled with my feelings of worth when I was at my thinnest as much as I did when I was at my heaviest. When I was really overweight I was so self-conscious. Most of my energy was spent on being funny or friendly in hopes that people wouldn't notice how big I was. Usually I felt like I was the biggest person in every room I entered. Then with a lot of hard work, discipline, and let's be honest, a little bit of obsession I got skinny. It took forever to get there and most of the time I never felt like I had finished. It didn't seem to matter that I had dropped 7 dress sizes or that I had lost over 90 pounds. In my head I was still a fat girl. A negative self-image loomed over me. Over time and with Jeff's encouragement, I was able to become comfortable with myself for the most part. Then we started our family and the scale showed numbers I was all too familiar with and did not want to see again. I accepted the numbers knowing that my little baby needed those numbers and that if I had lost weight once I could do it again. Now here I sit, a mama who had her baby more than 11 months ago with "baby" weight left to lose and trying to do it again. My husband encourages me and tells me that I'm beautiful and that he wouldn't change a thing about me, but I would. I would lose these extra pounds and tone up. And yet, I wouldn't trade being a mama to my Benjamin. I can't go to the gym every day and I certainly can't justify spending hours at the gym when I have a family that I love so much. So I'm doing what I can (with the exception of a few extra cookies here and there) by getting out with the stroller, going to the gym when I can, and trying to be mindful of what I'm eating. And I'm telling myself that if my husband thinks I'm beautiful and God says I am fearfully and wonderfully made, then I'm okay just the way I am. Is my value in a number? Is yours? I am not less or more of a woman, wife, mother, daughter, sister or friend based upon my weight or size or outward appearance...and neither are you. I can't let the scale or the number on the tag of my jeans dictate how I feel about myself. What should dictate how I feel about myself is knowing that I was made in the image of God and He is beautiful. Now, off to the gym for a reasonable amount of time to find my strength, not my value:)

The Take Home Chef

Benjamin woke up early this morning and Jeff was trying to recover from working nights. We headed out to the grocery store so that the sleep deprived resident could have a quiet house in which to rest. I usually do my grocery shopping at Super Target or HyVee. The slogan for Hyvee is "Where there's a helpful smile down every aisle". Fact: there actually is a helpful smile down every aisle. No kidding. The staff there are so friendly. They even give Benjamin a balloon when we go there which may not seem like a big deal but it actually is a big deal if you are trying to fill your cart with groceries while lugging around a baby who desperately wants to get out of the cart and play. Anyway, today we went to Hyvee, grabbed a cart, got our free balloon and began searching for the items on our list. I couldn't believe my luck when I saw Curtis Stone there. I mean I've seen him in the Hyvee ads with tips and recipes and such, and I've seen him in the Hyvee commercials going to the homes of customers to help them cook dinner, but I never thought that I would actually see him in my very own grocery store. Wow! He warmly greeted us with a smile, but when I went to say hello and ask for tips on how to put together tonight's meal he totally blew me off and just smiled at the people behind me. Well, I could see that he wasn't going to come to the house to cook for us tonight which was fine I guess, but he didn't offer any advice either. Oh well. By the looks of the bathroom scale nobody around here is going without food so I suppose we'll be okay. But I do think the whole "take home chef" thing is much ado about nothing. At least we got a balloon.

Neighborhood Watch....Yep, I'm watching, and so is the dog.

The dog sleeps in our kitchen in her kennel right up against the patio window. She sees everything. Sometimes I wonder if she actually even sleeps during the night or just spends the entire time looking out the window, surveying the goings on in the neighborhood. I know that she must sleep at least some of the time because every once in a while I can hear hear across the house having a puppy dream as she whimpers or half barks at the squirrels that she is probably dreaming about. But occasionally Osa will bust out in a full warning bark. Of course I am always startled by it and then nervously check to see what she's fussing about. Most of the time she's alerted to some deer or a raccoon or some such critter, but once in a while she's telling us there's something else going on. Last night was one of the nights that Osa warned us there was something unusual going on outside. I was having trouble going to sleep and was laying in bed when I heard her start with a low growl before she erupted into a barking frenzy. I hopped out of bed and hurried to the kitchen window to see what was the matter. As I peered out the window I saw three young men using their cell phones as flashlights clambering through a small space between our yard and the neighbor's yard. Osa was going nuts-o with the barking and of course woke Benjamin up from his slumber. Then he exploded into tears. So now the dog was barking incessantly, the baby was screaming and three strangers were tearing through the yard in the middle of the night. I didn't really think about what I was going to do. I just suddenly turned on the flood light in the backyard, opened the patio door and hollered at the young men. "Hey, this is private property and you just woke my baby!" My voice was hoarse from the cold that I had so I sounded extra tough and the light startled them quite a bit. Between my gruff yelling, the dog's barking and the surprise of the back light I probably scared those boys more than they scared me. The way I sounded they probably pictured some crazy, wild-haired woman with a shotgun propped upon her shoulder and a Dirty Harry attitude tucked into her back pocket. Admittedly, that's about how I felt. You may get by with sneaking through my neighborhood, sending the dog into a barking fit and forcing me to get out of bed in the middle of the night. But you gonna wake up my baby? Go ahead, make my day.

Once the household settled down again and we were all back to bed, Jeff and I laughed at my tough girl episode. I'm still not sure what got into me. We live in a Neighborhood Watch area. We're supposed to report suspicious persons, not open the door and "talk" to them. Thankfully I am so frightening that I scared them off. But self-control. There's always room for self-control.

Love. That. Dog.

Osa is a 12 pound Teddy Bear. That's a fancy way of saying she's an expensive mutt. The first time I met Osa I fell in love with her. Jeff and I had just moved into our new house in a new town. By "just" I mean we moved in on a Friday and brought her home the following Monday. I had been looking at Teddy Bears (shih tzu/bichon mix) at pet stores and kennels for months knowing that I wanted a pup as after we got settled from our move. I hadn't found the right puppy by the time we hopped into the moving truck and for 3 days I was unable to look for my puppy because I didn't have access to the internet. This was before I joined the smart phone world. But the cable guy came to our house that Monday morning and as soon as he left I hopped on the computer to see if any of the locals had a Teddy Bear available since I last looked Thursday. Sure enough, somebody posted pictures of a litter of pups, all adorable that very morning. When I saw the pictures I thought to myself, "That is my girl". I told Jeff about her and that I wanted to go look at her. Jeff had hoped to get a big dog, but with his long work hours he lovingly allowed me to choose the kind of dog I wanted to keep as my companion while he was away. So we made the 40 minute drive to meet the tri-colored doggy. As soon as I met her I knew I wanted to bring her home with us. She was soft and playful and her coat was so sweet. The paper work started flying and I later learned that Jeff was thinking "I thought we were just looking at the dog". We wrote a check, filled out paperwork and brought our little dog home. On the 40 minute trip home I held her in a blanket we kept in the car. She cuddled and then squirmed and chewed on my fingers with her razor sharp teeth all while we tried to think of a good name for our new little pup. We agreed upon Osa. The Spanish word for bear is oso and we thought that since she was a Teddy Bear mix it would fit well. We had to call her Osa though, since she is a girl. Then we stopped off at the pet supply store to pick up the necessities and brought our Osa girl home. She's been such a good little buddy for me, especially when Jeff is at work for long hours. And now I'm watching Osa and Benjamin become friends as Ben feeds her his food from his highchair and they play tug of war. I'll admit that during all of the puppy training, chewing, and whimpering in the middle of the night there were moments that I wondered if we should have taken on the responsibility of a puppy. But here we are with our Osa bear more than 2 years later and she is a well-behaved, playful, cuddly companion and once we got through some of those difficult moment I knew we did the right thing by adding Osa to our family. Love. That. Dog.

On a side note, I highly recommend the book The Art of Raising a Puppy by the Monks of New Skete. Very good advice on how to choose and raise a pup.

A Cookie Jar of Memories

Today my memory was triggered buy some sugar, peanut butter, and flour. Benjamin was entertaining himself with an empty jar of peanut butter while I was baking one of grandma's recipes. The peanut butter cookie dough whirled about the mixer as I fondly recalled spending time at the kitchen counter with my mom talking about grandma. My grandma passed away when I was only four-years-old. Sadly, I don't have many memories of my grandma, but every one that I do have is happily cherished. Most of my memories are of grandma's kitchen and her yummy baked goods. My grandma loved to bake for her family. My love of baking must have been inherited from grandma. I'd like to think that I have some of her other good qualities too, but I know we have baking in common at least. I imagine that she enjoyed seeing the smiles and hearing the happy conversations her family enjoyed over one of her yummy pies or a batch of her freshly baked cookies. All of the relatives probably complimented her on the desserts she made and I can picture her modestly accepting their praise as she said something like "Oh, it was nothing". After my grandma was gone, mom would tell me stories about her while we baked up one of her delicious recipes. I loved hearing stories about grandma while we mixed together one of her tried and true goodies. It would have been so nice to have had her around just a little bit longer and known her a little bit better. But I'm so grateful I can remember grandma and the things my mom told me about her over a bowl of dough and sheets of hot cookies.

Grandma R's Peanut Butter Cookies
Cream together 1/2 cup sugar, 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup butter and 1/2 cup peanut butter. Mix in one egg. Dissolve 1 tsp of baking soda in a small amount of hot water and add to peanut butter mixture. Stir in 1 1/2 cups flour and 1/2 tsp of salt. Roll into balls and make a criss-cross pattern with a fork. Bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes. Pour a cup of coffee or a glass of milk, dunk a cookie and remember your grandma :)

Gracious Mama Bear

Have you ever had somebody come up to you to admire your baby and then reach out to tickle him or pat him or poke him and what have you? I have. I suppose most mothers of absolutely adorable babies deal with this situation as I do on a regular basis. In the grand scheme of things, I realize it's really not that big of a deal if a total stranger touches my baby, but I have to cringe every time their hands reach for Ben. It's the germs. Can you blame me? Usually I can smile and move on, but the other day I could not. We were at the store and Ben needed a little diaper change so we headed to the restroom. After I finished up I gathered our things and we were greeted by an employee who had just exited a restroom stall. She thought Ben was cute, obviously, and said hello to him and coochy-cooed and all of that. No problem. Then she lifted her hand and reached out to touch him. Yes, the employee that used the restroom and had not yet washed her hands was going to touch my baby. GrrrrrrrrrrrRooooooaaaarrrrrrrr! My mama bear instincts kicked in and I quickly pulled Benjamin out of her germy reach and retreated through the door, a fake smile on my face (at least I was trying to smile -may have been more like a grimace). Ewwwwww! Who does that??? Would it be so difficult for people to stop and think about what they are doing so as not to upset, or offend, or anger, or infect others??? Oh I was steaming. Of course I recounted the entire episode to my husband and in-laws in a huff. I am over the incident now and have had time to think about my reaction to the situation. While I am entitled to protect my baby, and responsible for doing so, I am also called to show grace to others. How many times have I done something, big or small, that has offended or upset somebody else? How many times have I been unaware of my offenses because others have shown grace to me rather than striking back? Yes, there is a time for correction and it's good to keep strangers' toilet hands away from Benjamin's face, but there is always room for grace in all of my actions and reactions. So I'll try to work on my mama bear reactions, of which there seem to be quite a few. But I'm still going to keep the disinfectant handy.

Grandma's Rhubarb Cake and Cobbler

I'm not really the type to hoard recipes. I figure good food is one of life's pleasure and everybody should enjoy it. Besides, my grandma would have shared these recipes with you. In fact, she probably would have baked them up for you herself and put on a fresh pot of coffee. So here are my two favorite rhubarb recipes in the world. If you have a good one, please share!

Grandma's Rhubarb Cobbler
4 cups rhubarb
1 cup sugar
Mix together and bake in 9x13" pan at 350 degrees until juicy

Meanwhile prepare the following and crumble over the rhubarb mixture:
3/4 cup margarine (I use butter)
2 cups flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups coconut
1/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp vanilla
nuts if desired

Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes

Grandma's Rhubarb Cake
(This cake is somewhat dense. Reminds me of a coffee cake, but not too heavy)
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
1/2 cup shortening
1 egg
1 cup sour milk*
1 tsp baking soda
2 cups flour
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 to 2 cups rhubarb, cut fine

*If you don't have buttermilk take one tbsp vinegar and add enough milk to make one cup*

Mix together. Pour mixture into 9x13" pan. Mix together 1/2 cup sugar and 1 tsp cinnamon. Sprinkle cinnamon sugar mixture over cake batter. Bake at 350 degrees for 35 minutes.

Enjoy!

Rhubarb Monster

I love sweets. Chocolate is my weakness, but I can enjoy pretty much any sweet under the sun (which is probably why I can't seem to lose the rest of this "baby" weight). There are a few seasonal goodies that I cannot resist and it upsets me when their season has passed knowing that I'll have to wait an entire year before I can enjoy them again. Seriously, I get emotional about my sweets. You can ask my husband who made the mistake of taking my last bite of dessert once. Most of my favorite goodies can be made anytime of year, but some are limited to our short summers. One such dessert: rhubarb cobbler. I don't know what exactly happens to me each summer, but it has something to do with rhubarb and sugar and the oven. I turn into this rhubarb hungry monster. I've actually caught myself coveting my neighbors humongous rhubarb plants. I'm pretty sure she caught me too because each summer she has brought over a big bag of rhubarb for me. Love her for that! When we moved into our house we discovered two rhubarb plants that were fair in size. Typically I can harvest 8-10 cups of rhubarb from them, which you would think is plenty for our small family. But if you had ever tasted my grandma's recipes for rhubarb cake and cobbler, you would know that there can never be enough rhubarb. So thanks to my sweet neighbor across the street who shares and doesn't judge me for coveting her plants. Don't worry...I brought her some rhubarb cobbler. I'd bring you some too if you would share your rhubarb with me, but you haven't.

Bon bons

My husband is so sweet. He brought some chocolates home for me the other day to thank me for "all of the hard work" I had done last week. So I sat on the couch and ate them. Do you know how stay-at-home moms developed a reputation for sitting on the couch and eating bonbons? It's because they deserve to sit on the couch and eat bonbons. Before I got married or had Benjamin, I was a busy gal. I worked full time, went to the gym daily, and had some kind of activity almost every day of the week. Add to that housework (or apartment work I guess), for which I had sole responsibility, and my plate was full. After Jeff and I got married things felt a little busier but mostly stayed the same, although I tried not to serve cereal for dinner every night as I did when I was single. We were both busy working and trying to keep our place livable while making time for our friends, family and each other. Well now we have a little boy and I've hung up my teaching hat for the time being to stay at home with him and to support my husband's career by taking care of all the things that I can on my own. You would think that I would have all of the time in the world compared to when I was a working girl, but I don't. Now I really know what busy is. It's not that my schedule is busier. I have fewer things on the calendar than I ever have in my adult life. And my responsibilities are limited to my family and house. But it seems that I have less time to do the things that I want to than ever before. So even though my schedule is lighter, my plate feels heavier. And because I do stay at home, I feel that it's my job to do everything (or as much as I can) without my husband pitching in to help. Afterall, he puts long hours in at his job, so why should he have to put long hours into my job too? Jeff doesn't put any pressure on me to do this or that, and he happily helps when I need him to, but it always leaves me with this feeling of inadequacy or failure when I can't do everything on my own. Each day I hurry about trying to do as much as I can so that my hard-working husband can come home and relax. Every moment seems to be filled with something...diapers, laundry, dishes, cooking, sweeping, comforting baby, grocery shopping, entertaining baby, going to the bank, picking up toys, feeding baby, and on and on and on. There is no coffee break or lunch break in my work day. There is no quiet drive to and from work in the car. There is no chit-chatting with adults around the water cooler or in the cafeteria or break room. When being a homemaker is your job, you don't get time off from work and you don't get to leave your work at the office because your home is your office. There is always something to do and so it's hard to feel okay about having some down time because any time I'm at home, I'm on the job. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I love taking care of my baby and my husband and my house and I wouldn't have it any other way. But it is hard work and there is a burden (self-inflicted) to do everything until everything is done. Since I don't earn a paycheck I feel I have to earn a break, but I don't really feel like I deserve one because my work is never done. So if a stay-at-home mom wants to sit on the couch to eat bonbons while writing a little blog or checking her Facebook or watching the Today show, you'll understand that she deserves a little break from her work too. And if any of the other homemakers out there are as lucky as I am, their husbands will supply the bonbons (or truffles in my case).

Garage Sale Self-Discovery

I'm getting ready for a garage sale this week. In the past I've just boxed things up and dropped them off at Goodwill periodically. A box of books here, a box of clothes there. But this year I've come to the conclusion that we need to really clean house and scale down. Our closets are ridiculous. I'm going through closets and boxes and cupboards and anyplace else I can think to look sifting and sorting through childhood toys, teaching materials, books and more.



Getting ready for this garage sale has shown me a few things...

1. We have a lot of junk
2. I had a great childhood
3. I miss having my grandparents
4. I loved being a teacher and I was pretty good at it
5. I don't have to hold on to things I'm not using. They are just things.
6. My favorite book is "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs" (I have 4 copies)
7. I LOVE children's books (I'm scaling down from 5 to 3 boxes - OUCH!)
8. I can't wait to watch Ben play with my old toys and read my old books
9. Purging is therapeutic
10.The best things I have are either working at the hospital, sleeping in the crib upstairs, or curled up on the couch watching squirrels outside the window.

Hello, It's Mr. Nasty!

"Do you ever feel you've become the worst version of yourself? That a Pandora's box of all the secret, hateful parts - your arrogance, your spite, your condescension - has sprung open? Someone provokes you and instead of just smiling and moving on, you zing them? "Hello, it's Mr Nasty." I'm sure you have no idea what I'm talking about."

That's a quote from my all time favorite movie, "You've Got Mail". My husband teases me that YGM shouldn't be anybody's favorite movie. He wonders how I can love a movie where the leading man is a total jerk to the leading lady, ruins her career/life, and then realizes he made a mistake and gets the girl in the end. "Braveheart"- Now that's a movie. I guess he has a point, but I love it nonetheless.

Back to the quote though. Do you ever feel like you've become the worst version of yourself? I do. Frequently. Sometimes I look back at my behavior and realize how selfish and unfair or unloving I have been. I feel so justified when that Pandora's box is opening up, but then when I really think about my part in whatever is happening around me I'm completely humbled. I wonder how can I be lovable? Maybe you don't know what I'm talking about, but I think when most people stop and look in the "mirror", the reflection they see is one their not always proud of. Sometimes when I see that reflection I see a woman who is blessed and loved and who has love to share with those around her. At other times, the hateful bits are in the forefront. I realize that I don't deserve all that I have...not the love of my husband and son, or of my family and friends, and I especially don't deserve the love that God shows to me. All of these blessings are gifts to an undeserving woman who struggles with being the person God created her to be.

So what's a girl to do with such an realization? I guess I'll just keep trying to follow Jesus, to purge the hateful bits, to show love and grace to those around me. After all, I'm only living this life and experiencing all its blessings because Somebody else has shown love and grace to me.

Garbage Walk

The weather was hot and steamy today. I'm not made for this kind of thing. I'm a North Dakota girl living in Minnesota. If I wanted hot, sticky weather I would like in the south. At any rate, I've been trying to be more disciplined with my exercise so I took Benjamin out for a morning walk in order to try to beat the heat, something that's a little hard to do when the temperature is 80 degrees upon waking. The first part of our walk wasn't too terrible, but Osa lasted all of 1/2 mile before she threw in the towel. We dropped her off at home and continued on our way. We got about 3 1/2 miles into our walk and had a mile to go. By this time, it was steaming outside. I was completely drenched. I pushed Benjamin up a steep hill while he napped comfortably in his stroller underneath his sunshade. It was hard work. Really hard. But I've gotten through tough exercise in high heat and high humidity. The real problem was the garbage. It was garbage day in the neighborhood we were plowing through. House after house there were large stinking garbage bins filled with garbage. You know how pleasant it is to walk into a house with freshly baked goodies, their sweet aroma filling the air? Well this was completely the opposite of that. It was almost as if the garbage bins had become trash ovens and the fumes were pungeant and permeating the entire neighborhood. All the while I was breathing heavy through my mouth as I lumbered up the hill and thus endured one of the most disgusting miles of my exercise life (yes, there are others * ). Why am I sharing this garbage walk experience with you? I want you to know that if the weather is hot and humid and it's garbage day, you should think twice about going outdoors for exercise.

*Other gross workouts involve a farting cyclist and a runner with such a high blood alcohol level she was sweating beer.

The Coon Dog and the Scaredy Cat

I get such a kick out of dogs. Their little personalities can be so funny. I'm thinking about it tonight because we are dog sitting for some friends whose dog is about a year older than Osa and about the same size...a little Yorkie looking terrier, but bigger than a Yorkie, whatever that breed is. We're having a thunderstorm and the little terrier is frantic. She's pacing, looking out windows, hiding under tables, and crawling all over me. Then there's Osa. She is scratching at the door and ringing her bell to go outside. I know for a fact that she does not need to go out to do her duties because that was all taken care of just a little while ago. She wants to play in the lightening and watch the storm. She acts like she's this fearless brute when really she can be such a timid little thing. If a stranger reaches to pet her, she cowers away from them. And toddlers...forget about it. She is frightened of the baby gates, but she'll tree a raccoon no problem. It's like like I have 2 different dogs. The coon dog and the scaredy cat. But I love her and her dueling personalities.

Little Gifts

Sometimes in life we make pleas to God, perhaps concerning the health of a loved one or to get us out of a bad situation. At other times we make requests that are not so desperate, but still very significant, maybe to get that new job or to sell the house. And then there are times when we don't even ask for something, but God sends us little gifts because he knows what brings us joy.

Yesterday I had the camera out and was taking pictures of Benjamin and Osa in the backyard, just enjoying the warm weather and sunshine with my boy and the dog. As we came back into the house I thought it would be fun to see some deer so that I could try to get another picture. Within the hour, there were four deer in the back, so I snatched up my camera and took this picture.

A little while later, I was sending my folks an email of a sweet little picture I had taken of a sparrow. In the message I wrote how I'd like to be able to spot a cardinal and get a picture of that. Again, within just about an hour I heard a cardinal calling in the neighbors yard. I grabbed the camera and captured the little beauty.

The pictures may not be the greatest, but that's not the point. The point is that God knew the desires of my heart and cared enough about them to give me the gift of the simple joy of seeing some deer and a cardinal. He knew what was on my heart before I had even spoken a word about it and He showed His love for me in these simple gifts. The Bible tells us the God cares for all of His creation even down to the smallest sparrow. If He provides for and takes care of a little bird, how much more will he provide and care for us? God shows us His love in big and small ways, we just need to take notice of it.

Hello park!

Benjamin has recently discovered the joys of being outside without the confines of a carseat and a carseat cover. He loves the grass and swings. We're avoiding sand for a little bit longer...I already do enough laundry as it is. There is a small park just a little more than a block from our house that I think we will be frequenting. Just hoping it won't snow again until November.

"Get in another line."

"Ten items or less, right?" These are the first of the very few words spoken to me by the cashier at Target today. No hello, how are you, did you find everything okay? I hadn't counted my items which apparently makes me a reckless customer, but it seemed like I only had about 10 items. To be perfectly honest I was a little preoccupied with the baby on my hip and I went to her line without checking because there was NOBODY around. She was just standing there with nobody in her line. Nobody walking toward her line. Nobody withing 20 feet of her line. Nobody. But apparently my two extra items were enough to push her over the edge and to warrent one of the most unfriendly transactions I have ever experienced. I did get a "thank you", but it felt more like a "thank you, but don't even think pulling a stunt like this again" if you know what I mean. It reminded me of that scene in "You've Got Mail" where Meg Ryan doesn't have any cash for the "cash only" line, only Tom Hanks didn't come to rescue me by charming the cashier. The whole experience was slightly uncomfortable, but highly comical. So thanks to the grouchy cashier for making my day more colorful and giving me a good chuckle.

It's the simple things...

Good morning to us! We were greeted by four little beauties out back during breakfast today. Osa (our dog) was whining at the door. This is typical for her as she is always on the lookout for squirrels, rabbits, chipmunk, deer, and the occasional raccoon. I peeked out the window to see what all of the fuss was about and just behind our fence were four deer, scrounging around for food. I suspect they came to eat the neighbors tulips. It was way too early to let Osa out as we knew she would bark and cause a ruckus, but when the clock dialed around to 8 I let her out and she bolted out the door toward the deer. At first they startled and were nearly ready to take off, but when they got a look at the 12 pound puppy coming at them, they thought better of it and continued milling around. One of them even laid down. All the while Osa tried to entice them to play with her by romping back and forth, sticking her rump in the air, patting at the ground with her front paws and even crying for them. It was quite the sight, and even though I know deer are not that uncommon it was a cheerful way to start the day.

Well good for your mom...

The other day I decided to treat myself to a new pair of jeans, so I hopped in the car, drove to the mall and marched into the clothing store baby in hand, literally. It was one of those stores where most of the employees probably just got their drivers licenses and the older ones were sophomores in college. Needless to say I felt a little out of place with a baby on my hip and my ripe old age of 32. At any rate I found what I wanted and made my purchase. The young "man" who was helping me looked at my ID and then looked at me almost as if he wasn't sure I was the woman in the picture. I joked, "It's me, but that's before the baby when I had time to fix my hair." He responded, "Yeah, my mom had five kids and she fixed her hair every day." Well good for your mom.

I love Jeff, Ben, Bob, and Gym

When my husband and I first became an "item", I spent many, many hours at the gym. The fact is I spent more time working out at the gym than I did with my fiance, but in my defense Jeff lived 6 hours away and the gym was just about a mile from my place. Jeff used to say to me, "I'm getting a little jealous of this guy, Jim. You spend more time with him than with me." That's my husband...always busting out the one liners.

Well my gym days are few and far between now. Well now there's a new man in my life. His name is Benjamin. I've traded in over-exercising for a baby and now finding time to hit the gym is a whole lot more difficult than it used to be. Jeff is great about making time for me to go when he can, but with his crazy work hours and do believe I'm going to find myself spending a lot of quality time with my new friend, BOB. I've only spent a little time with this guy, but I am totally impressed and I just know that once the snow melt off the sidewalks we're going to be pretty familiar with one another.


What I like about BOB Revolution (besides the pretty colors)...
Very easy to push
Great suspension
Large sun shade
Peek-a-boo window to see baby
Turns easily
Thick, durable tires

The Biggest Loser

"Don't worry, babe. You'll always be the biggest loser in my book." These are the words that came from my loving husband's mouth after I commented that I could have been The Biggest Loser. We still laugh over that comment almost every time we watch the show. If you are alarmed that a husband would utter those words to his wife, don't be! I loved it!

Five years ago I was a very different person. Of course some things about me have always been the same, but I wasn't really happy. I didn't feel good about who I was. I didn't value myself. I shut people out before they could shut me out. I worked really hard to be funny so that people would like me in spite of the way that I looked. In general I was sad and felt alone. Why you ask (or maybe you're not asking...just wondering how you got suckered into reading this)? Because I was fat. Seriously. Fat.

It's interesting to think back to what people said to me about my physical state at that time. I remember hearing that I was big boned, curvy, or "not that big". But really, I was big. I've seen pictures. I weighed over 230 pounds and was prehypertensive with blood pressure hovering around 135/95. But there was no need for numbers when it came to knowing that I wasn't a healthy 26 year old woman.

Have you ever seen an overweight, unhealthy person climbing a flight of stairs? It's painful to watch. Now imagine being the overweight, unhealthy person climbing a flight of stairs. Your breathing is labored. You are using the handrail, but not for balance. You're trying to give yourself a little help with each step, pulling on the railing to hoist yourself along. Now picture yourself at the top. You feel the need to stop so you can catch your breath, but there are other people around. Not just other people, but people about your age who have probably run 5 miles already that day. Embarrassment sets in once you remember what you've let yourself become. This all seems very dramatic I'm sure, but these are the thoughts that ran through my head five years ago as I climbed up a flight of stairs at my local college.

Really there was a series of events that lead to my decision to change my life. There were fat pictures, the episode with the stairs described above, the high blood pressure reading, going to the store and trying to squeeze my plus-size body into size 18 pants when really I was a size 20, and the breaking point....the scale. All of these things happened within a matter of weeks, but it was the scale that finally said to me, "Sarah, it's time to make a change." I remember stepping on the scale and it read over 230 pounds. What a shock. I mean I knew I was heavy, but that was a big number. With that number I was officially the heaviest person in my family. Much heavier than my brother. Much heavier than my dad. Heavier than everybody. I had to do something.

That night I was looking through the grocery ad trying to save a little money, and I saw that Lean Cuisines were on sale. I thought maybe I should give them a try to see if it would make a difference. So I went out and stocked up on the frozen meals. For the last two months of the school year I ate a Lean Cuisine and a light yogurt for lunch every day. That's it. That's all I did. I didn't exercise or eat differently at any other time of the day and by the end of the school year I lost 10 pounds. Then I had some real motivation and more importantly I had hope.

If I could lose 10 pounds by making a simple change in my eating I figured I could lose even more weight if I changed a few more of my eating habits. It was the beginning of summer vacation and I made a goal with a girlfriend to lose 15 pounds by the time the school year started up again. I began to watch the amount of food I was eating at each meal and the amount of desserts I was consuming throughout the day (and it was a lot, believe me). By the end of the summer I had shed my 15 pounds by decreasing my food portions to a "normal" amount and by cutting out several desserts a day. I still enjoyed my food and ate the type of food that I wanted, just a lot less of it.

School started up again and I was down 25 pounds. People who hadn't seen me over the summer noticed that I had lost weight and it felt so good. But shortly after I became discouraged because I wasn't losing any more weight. I was still over 200 pounds so I knew I wasn't done and I knew what I had to do if I wanted to be successful....exercise. A coworker of mine (a cute, little athletic marathon runner of all people) invited me to join her gym. She said it was small and the people there were great to work with. Of course my first thought was that the last place I wanted to go as an overweight woman was a gym with cute little athletic marathon runners jumping around in their cute little outfits. She assured me that people weren't like that there and that I should just visit and see what I thought, so I did and I then I joined. And then I really changed my life.

To start my fitness journey off I had lots of measurements taken and a trainer gave me advice for exercising. For my first workout I hopped on an elliptical and was completely exhausted and out of breath after 20 minutes, but soon my endurance increased and I started feeling my body change. About year of working out passed and I lost an additional 35 pounds for a total of 60 pounds. By this time my goal was in sight and I was starting to feel like a different person. My initial goal was to be able to fit into my prom dress (a size 13/14). I thought once I got to that point I would definitely be done with my weight loss because I could remember being a size 10 through most of high school and I was happy with that size. I kept plugging away and started going to group fitness classes like aerobics and my beloved SPIN classes. The weight continued to come off slowly but surely and I suddenly had the urge to train my body to be able to run a mile without stopping. By this time I considered myself to be fairly fit and in shape, but running wasn't something that I could do, nor did I really want to. I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it if I tried. I began working my way up to being able to run a mile steady without stopping. Then I got the bug. Soon I was running for 3 miles without stopping and I felt like I had really accomplished something.

I thought I would be satisfied with my new abilities, and I was until I met my husband. Anybody who knows me well knows that I am competitive which is why when I discovered that my new boyfriend was running 6 miles during his workouts I just had to take it up a notch. After about 2 months I had gone from not being able to run one mile without stopping to running 6 miles. When coworker heard about my new love for running she suggested I run the Fargo 1/2 marathon which was three months away. My first thought was there was no way I could run 13.1 miles at once, but she urged me to consider it. For the next three months I trained and ran the 1/2 marathon in 1 hour 52 minutes. Through the process of training which included running, spinning and weight lifting I lost and additional 30 lbs.

After running the 1/2 marathon my weight loss totaled 90 pounds and my prom dress still didn't fit, but this time for a great reason. It was too big! After over 3 years of lifestyle changes I was the same size I had been in junior high and I had lost more weight than I ever dreamed was possible. But my struggle with weight didn't end by reaching a magical weight or size. I like to say that I was still a fat girl trapped inside of a skinny girl's body. I was dealing with the personal and emotional side of my journey even after the weight was gone. The process of repairing my self image has actually been the most difficult part of it all. Dealing with my own thoughts about myself along with disapproval from others who think that I "went too far" with the weight loss or exercise has been trying. My weight and size are something that I think about almost every day. I have to work hard to keep my view of myself and my body in check and to remember that my value is not wrapped up in numbers or what other people think of me. Some very dear friends have been a great support for me. My husband, Jeff, was especially helpful, encouraging, and supportive. But the most important part of understanding my real worth has come from knowing that I am valued and cherished by my Creator, no matter what my numbers are.

I have written all of this to say to anybody out there that needs to hear it..."If I can do it, you can do it." Each person has their own battles to deal with, and this was one of mine. Maybe it's a struggle for you too, but you can overcome it. If I could give you any advice it would be this: Ask for help, advice, and support. Take small steps. Make changes that are realistic. Find what motivates you (food journals, group fitness classes, a trainer, etc.). Do it for you. Just see what happens. If you give it an honest effort I think you'll be surprised how powerful you can be in changing your life.

Thanks for listening.

My slippers are great.....jealous???

Wearing layers and heavy socks during the winter is routine for me because I'm chronically cold, so when I saw my sister wearing a pair of Old Friend Scuff Slippers I became obsessed with them. I picked them up last winter and have been thoroughly enjoying them this fall. I anticipate that they will be on my feet every day from now until April....or until they are worn. Fuzzy, comfy, warm.

Laughter and Lattes are the Best Medicine.

Today I went out for some cold medicine and tissue. I accidentally got a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks. Really the best medicine.

Seriously?!?!?

For some reason I got the urge to check out this lame excuse for a blog today...probably because I'm stuck in the house with a terrible cold and I don't have decent cable. Anyway, looks like it's been 364 days since I've done anything with this thing. One more day would have made a year?!?!? That's just terrible.

Why Biking in the Badlands is Harder than Spin

I'm an avid spinner. I love spin class and hate to miss it. The instructors at my gym are AWESOME and will work participants until legs are nearly ready to fall off. People have been known to vomit, that's how tough their classes are. So when Jeff and I went biking in the North Dakota Badlands this weekend I was feeling pretty good. Even though I knew the terrain would be difficult, I thought that I had this trail in the bag. Then we started biking and everything I thought was wrong! Spin class did not prepare me for the cliffs, rocks, ruts, or cow pies. There were portions of the trail that were literally a foot from the edge of a cliff and where the trail was so rutted out that we could not pedal. I am sure I walked my bike at least one of the many miles. An intense day of biking, but worthwhile in the end.

It's official...

I am the worst blogger ever. Nearly five months of blogging silence is truly pathetic. Not that I have an audience to disappoint, but it's fun to look back at previous entries.

Well since the Fargo 1/2 Marathon, Jeff and I got married, moved, went on a honeymoon, visited his family, and started school. Also I have discovered "Facebook" which, in combination with my laziness, has contributed to the slow death of this blog. But here I am trying to revive it. I'll probably be back some time in March.



Until then, let me show you one of my new favorite kitchen tools...

I love this apple corer by Martha Stewart. I found it at Macy's for $10.99. I didn't mind spending a few extra bucks on it because I've heard of cheaper brands breaking while being used. I prefer not to injure myself while attempting to be a healthy eater.

The Finish Line

Wow...I really stink at this blogging thing lately. Apparantly it's been 51 days because I just ran the Fargo 1/2 Marathon today. Uff da. Jeff and I met in Fargo and we both ran and finished. Yay! It is such a great feeling to cross that finish line. To check out the results visit the Fargo Marathon website.

51 days to go far

Just 51 days until the Fargo Marathon. I'm currently training for the half marathon...I haven't worked up the courage (or insanity) to run the full yet. Maybe another year. So for now my goal is to shave about 6-7 minutes off of my time from last year. My training has been going pretty good so far aside from the fact that I've completely slacked off over the last week, but it was a holiday so I had an excuse. I'm loosely following an intermediate training guide developed by Hal Higdon and I've been happy with it up to this point. I'll decide how I feel about Hal and his guide on race day!

What's in a name?

Hey there Lost fans! Bad boy Sawyer has a nickname for you. To find out what it is, click here.

I heart truffles!

There is a nice candy store located in the Sioux Falls and Bismarck malls called Northwoods Candy Emporium. I've had a few of their treats and thought they were really good (except for a giant peanut butter cup - I know - you wouldn't think you could go wrong).

One of the Valentine treats Jeff got for me was a box of their truffles. I'm about halfway through the box and they've all been good. If you're in the area, splurge a little....just stay away from the giant peanut butter cup!

The Mind-Reading Gopher

A girl I know once told me that when she had the feeling that somebody was trying to read her mind she say to them (in her mind, of course), "Please stop reading my mind. It is very rude." I laugh every time I think of that. Well I don't think she would like this little gopher....

Training Log

There is a new online Training Log at the Runner's World magazine website. On the site you can track all of your exercise including running, biking, swimming, walking, strength training and more. It's really easy to set up and it's FREE!

New Socks!

I love, love, love new socks! Especially fun socks. Well this weekend Jeff came to visit me and we took a trip to Scheels to pick up some new running shoes for him and he treated us to new running socks (Wigwam Dri-Release Running Socks). I've never had special socks for running, but now I know what I've been missing all this time. I didn't really think that they would make that much of a difference, but they really did and we're excited to have them for the half marathon. Every comfort will make a difference I'm sure.

The sock excitement continued this afternoon when I was talking to Jeff on the phone after he left today and he told me to check my cupboards for a present. He hid a bag with some chocolates and Valentine socks in one of my cupboards yesterday when I wasn't looking. What a fun surprise!

This is a true sign of nerdiness. Does anybody else get excited about socks...and then write a blog about it?!?!? I have to get out more...