Jonesing for Turkey

This post is here as warning. You'll be so glad after you've read this, I promise.

So, I was at the fine Honeybaked Ham establishment on Monday...out ahead of the crowd, getting my pre-baked oven-roasted Turkey a full 3 days before Thanksgiving.

As I pulled into the parking lot, all the handi-capable spots were filled, so I duly noted that the Olds were out en masse, no doubt getting their fake turkeys just like me. Plus, they don't have much on their schedules, except packing for all minor trips at least two weeks in advance.

Anyway...I walked into the Ham place and there, GUARDING the door, stood a Smokey Bear-esque Security Guard. At the Honeybaked Ham store. Also, I'm not exactly sure what type of "security" a kindly 70 year-old grandpa would provide. Show of force? Hmmm... Actual knowledge of weapons and speed enough to halt anyone under 65 trying to steal a ham? Right...

Seriously, are people that crazy? Do people get wild and unruly over pork and other fine meats? I just cannot believe it.

Granted, there were only a handful of patrons in the store and there was at least a 2:1 ratio between Ham Employees and meat seekers. Not exactly riot conditions.

There was also a Six Flagish security line (complete with velvet ropes) that wove back and forth to the front counter for miles. I'm just estimating, but it would have been about 6 paces from Barney Fife at the front door to the meat counter, as the crow flies. However, with the intricate system that some Ham Engineer had manuevered, it took upwards of five minutes to reach the Preliminary Ham (Turkey) Counter. (There was a convenient pit-stop for some Smoked Ham and Honey Mustard Sauce along the way, so that was a nice touch.)

At this point, you've noticed that I am CLEARLY out of touch with the Ham industry. Maybe I SHOULD be causing a ruckus and trying to be sneaky in the lingering lines at Honeybaked Ham. I never knew what a precious commodity these things are! Security? Long lines?

I know it's busy around the holidays and all, but this is taking things to a new level.

So, be careful. And whatever you do, DON'T try and cross Smokey at the Ham store. Or on second thought, DO, and see if he can match you step for step. (Happy Thanksgiving.)

The Skinny on My Fat
So I've been busy the last few days organizing my recipes. This sounds a little June Cleaverish, I know, but my current system involves all of them being thrown haphazardly into a drawer (which, I am proud to say IS, at least, in the kitchen).

I'm sure you are thinking that I could simply put all of these recipes into a recipe box, but that is so old school. First of all, only one of them is actually on a recipe card and it was given to me by my mother, who also carefully tucked it into a little recipe card protector. Needless to say, I have never used it (also because the recipe calls for whole wheat, which I will get to later).

The rest of the recipes are on various scraps of paper on which I transcribed the ingredients while holding a baby in one arm and balancing the receiver while talking to my mom in the other hand. In fact, my favorite chicken salad recipe has resided on a luncheon napkin for over 2 years now.

Being that I am a 21st century gal, I have decided to put these recipes on the computer. Actually, many of them were there already, but I was storing them in my deleted items folder in Outlook. I quickly realized it was taking me far to long to sort through five years of deleted mail each time I wanted a recipe...IF I remembered who it was from.

Thus began the project.

The explanation behind my current weight began to emerge as I sorted the recipes. The percentage breakdown is as follows:

Recipes containing vegetables: <1%
Recipes for dessert: 65%
Recipes for chicken: 32%
Other: 2%

This may sound a little dramatic, but I promise you, I crunched the numbers on the calculator and it is true. (Within the dessert category, over 80% contain chocolate, fyi.)

I have exactly two (2) recipes for vegetables. One includes spinach and rice and the other is potato based with lots of cheese and sour cream. Some people these days would tell you that potato is in fact, not a vegetable, but a starch, but I feel I should count it as this category needs all the help it can get.

In addition, here are some categories for which I have more recipes than I have for vegetables:

*queso
*egg casserole
*chocolate peanut butter cookies

Anyway, I will stop harassing Brad and begging for money to see a nutritionist to help me in the fight against the flab. I think I just figured it out.

Also, today my menu looked like this:

breakfast: 3 cups of coffee and a Krispy Kreme (just glazed, no frosting!)
lunch: McDonalds double cheeseburger meal
dinner: a lot of pizza

Tomorrow I will be running 10 miles...and probably in immense pain doing it.

Maybe I should look into some of those recipes containing whole wheat. Or maybe I will pick something from the chocolate category...

In Sickness and In Health

Now, as you loyal readers know, Lilly has been a bit under the weather of late. Things have been coming out of both ends, to put it mildly. So yesterday, my friend, Karen set a new standard for friendship. One so mighty that even I will probably never eclipse.

"Mommy, my tummy hurt." As Lilly lay in obvious discomfort over at Karen's house, I thought she might have another vomiting episode. Sure, it's bad when your own kid vomits everywhere in sight at your very own home, but to perform this feat at someone else's house is awful on so many levels.

I walked over to pick up Lilly and move her to the kitchen--a surface far more conducive, I thought, for barf clean-up. That's when Karen runs in, animatedly insisting, "No, no, no. Just let her throw up right there on my carpet!" HONESTLY SHE SAID THAT.

Who says that?! Not me, that's for sure. I'd probably make the kid a cozy nest on the linoleum with some old ratty towels, but I don't think I'd volunteer my carpet (nasty or not) for puke.

I will definitely consider buying Karen a Christmas gift this year.

For those of you wondering, no, Lilly did not throw up. THANK GOODNESS! There has been enough of that for a lifetime. But, Karen did raise the bar for all friendships I will consider in the future. I appreciate that she was unphased by the smell, horror, and clean-up of puke. Lilly's comfort was more important. Granted, her own little daughter had been caught just moments before wandering through the house with the inflatable Dora training potty ring securely around her neck. (If you question the sanitary status of Karen's house, don't worry, this is an isolated incident and it's extremely clean.)

Running
For some reason, when I started blogging I promised running updates...not that any of you care. Today was great, though. I ran 7 hard and relatively speedy miles on the treadmill, or so I thought.

The guy next to me had to go and shame me by running like a 9 miles per hour pace. Seriously, that is crazy.

Next time I got to the gym, I am getting a treadmill between and old lady and a walker. Then I will look like a speed demon.

School Daze

Lastly, here are the babes in their full autumn glory. Ever since the first day of school, they beg me to take their picture each and every day before we pile in the family sleigh.



Seriously, I just might eat their cheeks!

One Man Chili-Cook Off

That's right, last night at my house, I entered a chili cook-off involving only myself. And to cut right to the chase, I lost.

Upon reflection, my first mistake was trying to cook it while the kids were awake. Because after three (3) hours of cooking, the scoreboard read:

Jackson: 2 poop-snakes in the pants
Lilly: 1 blow-out diarrhea in her beautiful white corduroy pants
Me: 1 bad pot of chili

Because of all the pooping, I had to engage in what I call "The Stopdown." You parents know it well. That's when you are forced by Heinous Odor and Tears to stop whatever you are doing and deal with the child at hand and their Issue. It is never convenient, that is for sure. Even when the is meat browning (burning) you cannot run back and save it (though you may be tempted.) The child at hand & their problem--all involving the colon last night--must come first.

This is hard, for sure. All day I was thinking about the chili, planning the chili, salivating for the meal that was to come. Heck, it was even a cold blustery day in Colorado--what more could one ask for?

But quickly, my dreams went down the toilet (absolutely NO pun intended because NOTHING, BUT NOTHING ended up in that sweet commode.)

The good news is: I lived to tell about it and Sweet Brad said the chili tasted good anyway. True, he cannot discern fine caviar from Cheerios, but that is another tale for another time.

So basically I've been contemplating this blog thing for awile. I'm not sure if I'm doing it for myself or secretly hoping to gain wide readership, thus leading to sponsorship (read: income) and fame, or more likely, noteriety. That said, I feel like the time is Now, and I MUST blog, must post, must share my deepest thoughts and innermost ramblings with a vast audience.

Also, I will be putting up pictures of my kids because they're cute.

I'm calling it "On the Run" because it seems to symbolize so many aspects of my life.

For starters, there's the literal running (or jogging, if truth be told) that I embark upon as often as possible. I've been partial to the treadmill lately because I am a weenie and am scared of concrete's effect on my knees, the rolling hills in the Ranch, and a breeze that might make me cold. Plus, I can watch TV while running indoors, thus forgetting the burning feeling in my lungs. The headphones also tune out the loud heaving sound I make when I run out of breath. Just Saturday, an innocent treadmill patron next to me at the gym turned my way mid-run to make sure I wasn't going to pass out. I had no idea what signaled this, then realized the entire row of stationary bike riders were also staring at me because of the dramatic breathing noises I was making. Don't worry...I survived without oxygen hook-up.

And then, there's motherhood. Needless to say, it is more of a marathon-type run, which includes many sprints, dashes, and intervals along the way. I often wonder why I need any kind of formal aerobic activity because I make enough trips up the stairs each day to equal a 10K. My day includes lots of chasing, trudging, and general walking around, usually with a miniature person weighing between 25 and 45 pounds in tow. (You might also infer from reading about all this exercise and Heavy Lifting that I'm totally strong and ripped and have a 6-pack, but alas, I am not.) Ironic, isn't it, that all that running around and lifting things does nothing for me. I'm (mostly) not bitter, though.

Then there's the Walk with the Savior. The Good Race, the Narrow Road, etc. How Christianity, motherhood, and running all come together is beyond me. But, I know it's my life and there are lots of good racing analogies that I can exploit. While racing after those kids and running on the trails outside, God works on my heart and begs me to see Him at work. So, here's my journey....

And, as promised a picture of those sweet kids. Actually, I can't get this picture thing to post correctly, so you'll have to wait with baited breath until I can figure out (which may be a while)