It’s nearing the end of the month, and Thursday’s shopping trip was more about comparing prices than purchasing multiple items. I bought three gallons of milk, but needed to price shampoo and conditioners as Sam’s Club no longer carries their Member’s Mark line that I’ve come to depend on. I figured that as long as I was going to be at Sam’s Club and WalMart I might as well compare prices on the two items that I’ve been thinking about on and off for over a year – disposable diapers and tampons.
It all started when my hormones when wacko. I ended up having a light “monthly” flow that went non-stop for about 6 months straight. Needless to say, I was fed up with needing to use tampons. Fed up with paying a small fortune for them, but unwilling to consider the alternatives. The last time I’d spent so much money on paper products was when my children were in diapers. Hmmmm. Diapers. I recall that when my kids were in the hey-day of diapers, a single one cost around $.06 each. (I’m roughly as old as the dinosaurs.) The tampons I was buying – the plain Jane ones in cardboard and paper wrappers – cost close to that, but I was unsure of the exact numbers.
I don’t know about you, but the thought of tampons costing as much as disposable diapers drove me nuts. Diapers incorporate high tech ingredients and coverings to deliver super techno absorbing abilities. They’re made up of:
Polyethylene Film: plastic used as back-sheet and to help stop liquids from leaking out of the diaper.
Hot Melts: used to glue the different components of the diaper, such as the pad and the elastics.
Hydrophobic Non-woven Polyethylene: used as a top sheet for the leg cuffs; it will not allow water to pass through.
Hydrophilic Non-woven Polyethylene: the main top sheet in contact with the baby skin, allowing the liquids to flow into the diaper core.
Elastic: used to improve the fit of the diaper and usually made of polyurethane foam, rubber or lycras.
Lateral Tapes: used to hold the diaper in place once it is on the baby; made of polypropylene and hot melt.
Frontal Tape: used to allow for multiple repositionings of the lateral tape without tearing the back-sheet; attached to the front of the diaper with adhesive; reduces the thickness of the poly film without the risk of potential tears associated with the lateral tapes.
Cellulose: Used for the construction of the pad. It aids in the integrity and absorbing capacity to the diaper. It comes from pine trees. Liquids are absorbed due to the capillaries in the void spaces between the fibers and the surface tension angle between the fiber and the water.
That sounds like a lot of science to me. Compare that to what it says on my Tampax box under ingredients:
cotton and/or rayon fiber, rayon and/or polyester overwrap, cotton cord, and cotton and/or cotton/polyester thread.
Doesn’t sound very complicated to me, and certainly not equivalent in cost to the process that produces disposable diapers.
And now for the results of my pricing research. To simplify things I’ll just stick with the prices at WalMart, mostly because that’s where I found the cheapest price on tampons, and everyone can shop at WalMart – no membership required. The cheapest plain Jane tampon was the Equate brand at .10 each. Tampax tampons cost $.14 each for any size absorbency.
The least expensive diapers at WalMart are the White Cloud brand. A stage one diaper (closest in size to a tampon) costs $.14 each – the same as a Tampax brand tampon. (I was right!)
Of course prices go up from there. Tampax Pearl and Playtex Gentle Glides with plastic applicators were the most expensive tampons -- $.20 each. Pampers were the most expensive disposable diapers -- $.24 each for a stage 2. Huggies’s stage 3 diapers in a large box (just think how large a stage three diaper is) cost $.21 each – or the same as a high end tampon. Can you believe it?
Despite the anger that wells within me each time I think of tampon manufactures making their fortunes at the expense of menstruating women, I’ve had a great laugh over my economic research. Mostly because my hubby is a cutie.
Hubby had a Utah Beekeepers Association meeting on Thursday at a local restaurant. Our neighbors have a few beehives and were in attendance. When Nancy asked Hubby what I’d been up to lately, Hubby told her about my research project pricing diapers and tampons. Just thinking about my mild-mannered husband having a conversation with our neighbors about the injustices of diaper and tampon pricing makes me laugh until I snort.
My pricing expose my not make a dent in the pricing of tampons, but it did accomplish something. It got at least two men (Ron and Hubby) talking about diapers and tampons. Now that’s a miracle!
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Monday, January 28, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Living at Break-neck Speed
It’s been a long time since I wrote a "real" blog entry. Here are a few of the reasons why:
It was the holidays. Kids home. Gifts to buy and wrap. Decorations to hang. Decorations to take down.
I caught a case of the January blahs. Not depression, just a little funk after having people home with me all day during the holidays. It really is hard for me to have everyone go to school and work. And yet, there is no lack of things to do here at home. Someone once asked me what I did with all my time now that my kids are in school all day. Truth is, I don’t have more time. And the same things need doing. I just don’t have a little friend to do them with. My advice is to savor having your babies at home. I did too much wishing away of that time in my life.
Life moves at break-neck speed. Bug is heavily involved in basketball. The girls take piano, and Beans is taking a pottery class. I’m on the district PTA board and also work with the student council at Lou’s school. (She’s on the council. It’s fun but also requires time and energy.) I have 2 ½ callings at church. I teach Gospel Doctrine every other Sunday, meet with the Activity Day girls twice a month, and play for the choir every week. (The choir accompanying isn’t official.) Laundry never stops piling up. Dinners don’t make themselves. Children need near-constant reminders to get their jobs done. Snow falls and needs shoveling. I have a dog that needs walks and more training. Exercise is a must.
I’m finding that I don’t feel that urge to write and share everything that’s happening to me. Life still happens, but I’m sharing more with my husband and kids. Hubby and I have recently discussed at-home moms, the number of callings women have versus men, financial goals, political leanings, Presidential candidates and the state of the Federal Government. Bug and I have discussed why some people swear, setting realistic goals, the importance of having fun. Personal hygiene and future make-up techniques are topics that Loula Belle is interested in. I’ve been trying to help Beans better express her feelings and we’ve discussed why that’s important. I guess I’m figuring out how to communicate what’s most important to me to those who are most important to me.
I’m writing more in my health and fitness journal. And then I’ve been re-reading what I’ve written as a means to better understand why my weight loss has been stuck for so long. I’ve also spent a lot more time reading and digesting everything that crosses my path on health and fitness. I’ve realized that reaching my weightloss goal isn’t a selfish pursuit. A healthy momma is a happy momma. Plus, I figure that I can better serve the Lord as a fit woman. When Hubby and I hit the years where we can go on a mission together, I don’t want to be held back by health problems. So I’m living in the NOW but planning for a healthy future!
I’m also trying to put Elder Dallin H. Oaks’ conference talk into practice. I’m evaluating what’s good, what’s better, and what’s best. Don’t worry. I’m not going to stop blogging completely. It’s part of how I get my journal writing in. When my blogging slacks, so do my journal entries. I’m trying to find balance.
My girls both got new WebKinz for Christmas. For the uninitiated, children can now buy plush toy animals that come with a web access code where they can virtually play with their pets. This is my girls’ favorite activity lately and has eaten into my own computer time.
I believe naps are important.
It was the holidays. Kids home. Gifts to buy and wrap. Decorations to hang. Decorations to take down.
I caught a case of the January blahs. Not depression, just a little funk after having people home with me all day during the holidays. It really is hard for me to have everyone go to school and work. And yet, there is no lack of things to do here at home. Someone once asked me what I did with all my time now that my kids are in school all day. Truth is, I don’t have more time. And the same things need doing. I just don’t have a little friend to do them with. My advice is to savor having your babies at home. I did too much wishing away of that time in my life.
Life moves at break-neck speed. Bug is heavily involved in basketball. The girls take piano, and Beans is taking a pottery class. I’m on the district PTA board and also work with the student council at Lou’s school. (She’s on the council. It’s fun but also requires time and energy.) I have 2 ½ callings at church. I teach Gospel Doctrine every other Sunday, meet with the Activity Day girls twice a month, and play for the choir every week. (The choir accompanying isn’t official.) Laundry never stops piling up. Dinners don’t make themselves. Children need near-constant reminders to get their jobs done. Snow falls and needs shoveling. I have a dog that needs walks and more training. Exercise is a must.
I’m finding that I don’t feel that urge to write and share everything that’s happening to me. Life still happens, but I’m sharing more with my husband and kids. Hubby and I have recently discussed at-home moms, the number of callings women have versus men, financial goals, political leanings, Presidential candidates and the state of the Federal Government. Bug and I have discussed why some people swear, setting realistic goals, the importance of having fun. Personal hygiene and future make-up techniques are topics that Loula Belle is interested in. I’ve been trying to help Beans better express her feelings and we’ve discussed why that’s important. I guess I’m figuring out how to communicate what’s most important to me to those who are most important to me.
I’m writing more in my health and fitness journal. And then I’ve been re-reading what I’ve written as a means to better understand why my weight loss has been stuck for so long. I’ve also spent a lot more time reading and digesting everything that crosses my path on health and fitness. I’ve realized that reaching my weightloss goal isn’t a selfish pursuit. A healthy momma is a happy momma. Plus, I figure that I can better serve the Lord as a fit woman. When Hubby and I hit the years where we can go on a mission together, I don’t want to be held back by health problems. So I’m living in the NOW but planning for a healthy future!
I’m also trying to put Elder Dallin H. Oaks’ conference talk into practice. I’m evaluating what’s good, what’s better, and what’s best. Don’t worry. I’m not going to stop blogging completely. It’s part of how I get my journal writing in. When my blogging slacks, so do my journal entries. I’m trying to find balance.
My girls both got new WebKinz for Christmas. For the uninitiated, children can now buy plush toy animals that come with a web access code where they can virtually play with their pets. This is my girls’ favorite activity lately and has eaten into my own computer time.
I believe naps are important.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Youth Skit on Individuality
Character Connections – January 2008
Individuality – Amelia Earhart
#1 Student: (“flying” around the front of room with arms out like a plane) Guess who I am?
#2 Student: The Little Airplane that Could?
#1: No. I’m a person -- one who really did a lot of flying.
#2: One of the Wright Brothers? The Red Baron? The President of the United States?
#1: (stops “flying”) No, no and no. But you’re getting closer. I’ll give you a big clue – I’m a woman.
#2: So you’re a woman who spent a lot of time flying. Hmmmm. I give up. Just tell me.
#1: Okay. I was trying to get you to guess AMELIA EARHART – the first woman to fly solo over the Atlantic. That was 1932 – a time when men mostly dominated the air industry. She’s what you’d call a real individualist – someone who stood out by being herself.
#2: An individualist, huh? Does this have anything to do with our character connection trait this month? I know it’s INDIVIDUALITY. But I’m not exactly sure what INDIVIDUALITY means. Everybody is a separate individual, so shouldn’t everyone possess INDIVIDUALITY?
#1: You make a good point. Everyone is unique, but not everyone is happy being unique. Haven’t you noticed that there are an awful lot of people who try to be just like someone else? You know, follow the crowd. They’re missing INDIVIDUALITY. I guess you could say that it’s really being comfortable in your own skin.
#2: So Amelia Earhart felt comfortable in her own skin?
#1: Did she ever! Unlike other young girls of her generation, her mother sometimes let she and her sister wear pants while they were growing up. You could say she was a bit of a tomboy – climbing trees, hunting rats with a .22 rifle, “belly slamming” down sledding down hills. She also kept a scrapbook of newspaper clippings about successful women in predominantly male-oriented careers such as the film industry, law, advertising, management, and mechanical engineering.
#2: So if we want to have INDIVIDUALITY we should be like Amelia Earhart?
#1: No, silly! You can’t have INDIVIDUALITY by being like someone else. You have to be 100% yourself.
#2: I think I’m getting it. If I want to demonstrate INDIVIDUALITY I simply be my own, wonderful self. That’ll be easy. I’ll eat nothing but _______________________, only wear clothes that are my favorite color – _____________. And since I have to wear shoes, next time I buy a pair I won’t bother to consider what’s fashionable or cool. I’ll just walk up and down the aisle waiting for a pair to call my name. Who knows, maybe a pair of rubber farm boots will shout, “Hey, ___________________ let’s go tromp through some mud/puddles.” Yes-siree, INDIVIDUALITY is definitely for me! (Tromp off the “stage” pretending to wear rubber boots.)
Individuality – Amelia Earhart
#1 Student: (“flying” around the front of room with arms out like a plane) Guess who I am?
#2 Student: The Little Airplane that Could?
#1: No. I’m a person -- one who really did a lot of flying.
#2: One of the Wright Brothers? The Red Baron? The President of the United States?
#1: (stops “flying”) No, no and no. But you’re getting closer. I’ll give you a big clue – I’m a woman.
#2: So you’re a woman who spent a lot of time flying. Hmmmm. I give up. Just tell me.
#1: Okay. I was trying to get you to guess AMELIA EARHART – the first woman to fly solo over the Atlantic. That was 1932 – a time when men mostly dominated the air industry. She’s what you’d call a real individualist – someone who stood out by being herself.
#2: An individualist, huh? Does this have anything to do with our character connection trait this month? I know it’s INDIVIDUALITY. But I’m not exactly sure what INDIVIDUALITY means. Everybody is a separate individual, so shouldn’t everyone possess INDIVIDUALITY?
#1: You make a good point. Everyone is unique, but not everyone is happy being unique. Haven’t you noticed that there are an awful lot of people who try to be just like someone else? You know, follow the crowd. They’re missing INDIVIDUALITY. I guess you could say that it’s really being comfortable in your own skin.
#2: So Amelia Earhart felt comfortable in her own skin?
#1: Did she ever! Unlike other young girls of her generation, her mother sometimes let she and her sister wear pants while they were growing up. You could say she was a bit of a tomboy – climbing trees, hunting rats with a .22 rifle, “belly slamming” down sledding down hills. She also kept a scrapbook of newspaper clippings about successful women in predominantly male-oriented careers such as the film industry, law, advertising, management, and mechanical engineering.
#2: So if we want to have INDIVIDUALITY we should be like Amelia Earhart?
#1: No, silly! You can’t have INDIVIDUALITY by being like someone else. You have to be 100% yourself.
#2: I think I’m getting it. If I want to demonstrate INDIVIDUALITY I simply be my own, wonderful self. That’ll be easy. I’ll eat nothing but _______________________, only wear clothes that are my favorite color – _____________. And since I have to wear shoes, next time I buy a pair I won’t bother to consider what’s fashionable or cool. I’ll just walk up and down the aisle waiting for a pair to call my name. Who knows, maybe a pair of rubber farm boots will shout, “Hey, ___________________ let’s go tromp through some mud/puddles.” Yes-siree, INDIVIDUALITY is definitely for me! (Tromp off the “stage” pretending to wear rubber boots.)
Thursday, November 29, 2007
What a Year It's Been! (Family Christmas Letter)
Note: If you received our Christmas Letter in the mail and are looking for the “real” answers, keep scrolling down on this blog entry. They’re listed under “Real Answers.” If you’ve yet to read our Christmas Letter, DON’T CHEAT. Follow the instructions for maximum enjoyment.
This year we’ve turned our Christmas letter into a fun game to play with family and friends, or you can play it by yourself. To begin with, fill in the blanks in the following column with the words called for. (You might want to write them down on a separate piece of paper.) Then, using the words you’ve chosen, fill in the blanks in our Christmas letter.
You can decide just how crazy 2007 was for us!
What a Year It’s Been!
1) verb, past tense
2) number
3) musical instrument
4) body part
5) construction job
6) color
7) color
8) color
9) baby animal
10) dog breed
11) dog breed
12) verb
13) verb +s
14) unusual vegetable
15) verb
16) verb +ing
17) bird
18) plant
19) adjective
20) adjective
What a Year It’s Been!
Our family has 1. verb, past tense another year in Northern Utah. All 2. number children have continued taking 3. musical instrument lessons. Quite frankly, they consider it a chore. But hearing them practice is music to our 4. body part !
In February we finished the basement. My husband did all the 5. construction job , and I did most of the painting. Bean’s room is 6. color . Loula Belle’s is 7. color , and Bug decided to have his walls the same color as the rest of the basement — 8. color . Everyone enjoys having the extra space.
For my birthday, I asked for a 9. baby animal . Lou Belle found a liter advertised on-line in Salt Lake City. In late February we brought home a cute, black puppy and named her Annie. She’s 1/2 10. dog breed and 1/2 11. dog breed . Pretty much she’s a bundle of energy that loves to 12. verb you. I spend at least an hour a day caring for, exercising and training Annie. Our neighbor loaned us some DVDs of The Dog Whisperer. Everyone is now working to be good pack leaders. (Note: Annie’s best trait is that she rarely, if ever, 13. verb +s .)
This year’s garden overflowed with produce! A few of the things Safety Man planted include: peas, onions, tomatoes, beets, lettuce, sweet corn, more raspberries and even 14. unusual vegetable . Last year’s raspberries came on nicely, and we even had enough to 15. verb . Safety Man lined up customers at work, and we all helped with the 16. verb +ing (some more than others). We’re loving living on Belly Acre Farm. (And the kids love bellyaching!)
Bug earned his 17. bird Scout Award (while he was still 13). Way to go Bug! His project was installing a set of horseshoe pits at our local park. Loula Belle, our platinum blonde, is growing like a 18. plant ! She just might pass up Bug. Beans continues to be sweet and 19. adjective . She kept us all in stitches on our vacation to Yellowstone by telling gross jokes. (Q: Why did Piglet look in the toilet? A: He was looking for Pooh.)
We hope this letter finds you in good health and 20. adjective holiday spirits. Merry Christmas!
--------------------
The Real Answers to What a Year It’s Been!
1) survived
2) 3
3) piano
4) ears
5) finish work
6) pink
7) light blue
8) natural almond (tan)
9) puppy
10) Golden Retriever
11) German Shorthair
12) lick
13) barks
14) popcorn
15) sell
16) picking
17) Eagle
18) weed
19) funny
20) high
This year we’ve turned our Christmas letter into a fun game to play with family and friends, or you can play it by yourself. To begin with, fill in the blanks in the following column with the words called for. (You might want to write them down on a separate piece of paper.) Then, using the words you’ve chosen, fill in the blanks in our Christmas letter.
You can decide just how crazy 2007 was for us!
What a Year It’s Been!
1) verb, past tense
2) number
3) musical instrument
4) body part
5) construction job
6) color
7) color
8) color
9) baby animal
10) dog breed
11) dog breed
12) verb
13) verb +s
14) unusual vegetable
15) verb
16) verb +ing
17) bird
18) plant
19) adjective
20) adjective
What a Year It’s Been!
Our family has 1. verb, past tense another year in Northern Utah. All 2. number children have continued taking 3. musical instrument lessons. Quite frankly, they consider it a chore. But hearing them practice is music to our 4. body part !
In February we finished the basement. My husband did all the 5. construction job , and I did most of the painting. Bean’s room is 6. color . Loula Belle’s is 7. color , and Bug decided to have his walls the same color as the rest of the basement — 8. color . Everyone enjoys having the extra space.
For my birthday, I asked for a 9. baby animal . Lou Belle found a liter advertised on-line in Salt Lake City. In late February we brought home a cute, black puppy and named her Annie. She’s 1/2 10. dog breed and 1/2 11. dog breed . Pretty much she’s a bundle of energy that loves to 12. verb you. I spend at least an hour a day caring for, exercising and training Annie. Our neighbor loaned us some DVDs of The Dog Whisperer. Everyone is now working to be good pack leaders. (Note: Annie’s best trait is that she rarely, if ever, 13. verb +s .)
This year’s garden overflowed with produce! A few of the things Safety Man planted include: peas, onions, tomatoes, beets, lettuce, sweet corn, more raspberries and even 14. unusual vegetable . Last year’s raspberries came on nicely, and we even had enough to 15. verb . Safety Man lined up customers at work, and we all helped with the 16. verb +ing (some more than others). We’re loving living on Belly Acre Farm. (And the kids love bellyaching!)
Bug earned his 17. bird Scout Award (while he was still 13). Way to go Bug! His project was installing a set of horseshoe pits at our local park. Loula Belle, our platinum blonde, is growing like a 18. plant ! She just might pass up Bug. Beans continues to be sweet and 19. adjective . She kept us all in stitches on our vacation to Yellowstone by telling gross jokes. (Q: Why did Piglet look in the toilet? A: He was looking for Pooh.)
We hope this letter finds you in good health and 20. adjective holiday spirits. Merry Christmas!
--------------------
The Real Answers to What a Year It’s Been!
1) survived
2) 3
3) piano
4) ears
5) finish work
6) pink
7) light blue
8) natural almond (tan)
9) puppy
10) Golden Retriever
11) German Shorthair
12) lick
13) barks
14) popcorn
15) sell
16) picking
17) Eagle
18) weed
19) funny
20) high
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Patience Report #6: Endless Weight Loss Plateau
Last night before I fell asleep I thought about my plan to learn patience this year. By and large I’ve been doing well. In fact, I’ve discovered that once you choose something to work on, to focus on, all sorts of solutions, ideas and lessons present themselves.
Perhaps the biggest lesson I’ve learned from trying to be more patient is that it helps not to focus entirely on the here and now. When I try to view life with the end in mind, the little day to day annoyances don’t seem to niggle at me quite so much. Maybe that’s what Scarlett O’Hara meant when she so famously said, “Tomorrow is another day.”
I’m finding that I don’t lose my cool with my kids quite as much as I used to. I don’t obsess about what I can’t wait to purchase, and I’ve reduced the amount of expectations I have for almost everyone. (On really good days, that includes me.)
But I haven’t fully conquered impatience yet. Especially as it pertains to my weight loss goals. I’ve been on a plateau – meaning my weight has hovered right around the same weight (or gone up) -- for a full year. Plus a few months. I’m finding it difficult to stay motivated. Part of me wants to throw up my hands and say, “See. I told you my body couldn’t do it.” But then I’ll attend a Weight Watchers meeting and listen to others share how they’ve dealt with their struggles, and I decide to persevere.
A thought that seems to help me stick it out is, “Weight Watchers is like church for my body.” And since I’m getting a bit tired of paying $7.00 per week for the last 14 months, I’ve added a new clause: “I’ll never even come close to paying as much for Weight Watchers as I pay in tithing.” (Don’t analyze that last phrase. It just works for me.)
Part of patience, I’m discovering, is doing what you can do and living with, even accepting, what’s not in your power to change. I have a body that doesn’t function perfectly. It affects my weight loss efforts. It does not good for me to dwell on my health problems. Instead, I’ve come up with a list of “can do” phrases that I’ve written on a stack of cards. I try to review them once a day. Here’s what they say . . .
I can do this . . .
Take my dog for a walk instead of snacking.
Take the time to prepare healthy meals.
Be stronger than my carbohydrate cravings.
Forgive myself.
Make healthy choices a part of who I am.
Ask the Lord to help me transform my weaknesses into my strengths.
Pray for strength.
Eat less to feel better.
Write what I bite.
Enjoy being active in the great outdoors!
Play!
Be happy now. (Don’t put if off until I reach my goal weight.)
Ask for what I need.
Believe other when they say I look great.
Call a friend when I’m bored instead of snacking.
Look for ways to burn more calories.
Push myself further – especially at aerobics.
Become a fit woman!
Keep at it until I become a Lifetime Member at Weight Watchers.
Ask for support from family and friends.
Stay for weekly W.W. meetings.
Play with my husband and kids. (Basketball with Bug)
Plan out my day’s menu (what/quantity/points values) in the morning
Think positively and then listen and follow the voice inside my head.
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
Perhaps the biggest lesson I’ve learned from trying to be more patient is that it helps not to focus entirely on the here and now. When I try to view life with the end in mind, the little day to day annoyances don’t seem to niggle at me quite so much. Maybe that’s what Scarlett O’Hara meant when she so famously said, “Tomorrow is another day.”
I’m finding that I don’t lose my cool with my kids quite as much as I used to. I don’t obsess about what I can’t wait to purchase, and I’ve reduced the amount of expectations I have for almost everyone. (On really good days, that includes me.)
But I haven’t fully conquered impatience yet. Especially as it pertains to my weight loss goals. I’ve been on a plateau – meaning my weight has hovered right around the same weight (or gone up) -- for a full year. Plus a few months. I’m finding it difficult to stay motivated. Part of me wants to throw up my hands and say, “See. I told you my body couldn’t do it.” But then I’ll attend a Weight Watchers meeting and listen to others share how they’ve dealt with their struggles, and I decide to persevere.
A thought that seems to help me stick it out is, “Weight Watchers is like church for my body.” And since I’m getting a bit tired of paying $7.00 per week for the last 14 months, I’ve added a new clause: “I’ll never even come close to paying as much for Weight Watchers as I pay in tithing.” (Don’t analyze that last phrase. It just works for me.)
Part of patience, I’m discovering, is doing what you can do and living with, even accepting, what’s not in your power to change. I have a body that doesn’t function perfectly. It affects my weight loss efforts. It does not good for me to dwell on my health problems. Instead, I’ve come up with a list of “can do” phrases that I’ve written on a stack of cards. I try to review them once a day. Here’s what they say . . .
I can do this . . .
Take my dog for a walk instead of snacking.
Take the time to prepare healthy meals.
Be stronger than my carbohydrate cravings.
Forgive myself.
Make healthy choices a part of who I am.
Ask the Lord to help me transform my weaknesses into my strengths.
Pray for strength.
Eat less to feel better.
Write what I bite.
Enjoy being active in the great outdoors!
Play!
Be happy now. (Don’t put if off until I reach my goal weight.)
Ask for what I need.
Believe other when they say I look great.
Call a friend when I’m bored instead of snacking.
Look for ways to burn more calories.
Push myself further – especially at aerobics.
Become a fit woman!
Keep at it until I become a Lifetime Member at Weight Watchers.
Ask for support from family and friends.
Stay for weekly W.W. meetings.
Play with my husband and kids. (Basketball with Bug)
Plan out my day’s menu (what/quantity/points values) in the morning
Think positively and then listen and follow the voice inside my head.
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
100 Things I'm Grateful For
Because the holidays are no longer creeping up on me but are launching themselves at me instead, this may be the last blog entry from me for a while. I’ve been keeping a gratitude journal off and on since November of 1996. Seeing as how Thanksgiving is practically mauling me, I’m going to share some of the things I’ve been grateful for this year. Here they are in reverse chronological order.
1. My dad – we’re a lot alike in our love for the outdoors, dogs and quality.
2. My sister. She went to the Warren Miller ski movie with me this year (2007).
3. Empire apples .
4. The smell of fallen leaves.
5. The long-billed snipe I saw at the canal.
6. Six mallards swimming (sound like a chorus from the “Twelve Days of Christmas”).
7. Loula Belle – She’s bright and sunny, has such a cute smile that can really transforms her whole face.
8. Bug – his singlemindedness. Be it basketball, golf, school or church responsibilities.
9. Beans and her friend, Mallory – cute friends who balance each other out.
10. Annie – my beautiful, cheerful, playful, smart, obedient dog and friend.
11. A loving ward family.
12. The HUGE yellow-orange moon over the West mountains on my way to morning aerobics.
13. Walking to school with Beans – getting to hold her hand, noting the sun’s rays as they just started to peek over the East mountains.
14. The beautiful roses Safety Man gave me – what a thoughtful man!
15. The song of red-wing blackbirds.
16. Sunshine on morning frost.
17. An egg over-easy.
18. Bug’s sense of humor.
19. Working with Lou on the student council.
20. Playing the piano for Helen Peterson’s funeral.
21. For piano lessons – so glad I didn’t fight taking them (not too much, anyway).
22. Heavenly Blue Morning Glory blossoms on our front porch pillars.
23. Homemade oatmeal granola.
24. Zucchini and straight-neck squash.
25. Reading and marking my Book of Mormon with my new multi-colored, all-in-one marking pencil.
26. My friendship with K’leis.
27. Samuel Wood – he’s a kick!
28. For garbage day.
29. Sun reflecting off irrigation sprinklers.
30. Swallows swooping and flying over the lawn in the evening.
31. Bean’s sunflower’s nodding.
32. Our cat resting in the grass.
33. For time, forgiveness and hope.
34. For modern conveniences such as: computers, high-speed internet, electricity, central cooling, cars, hot water heaters. All amazing!
35. For my sister, again. I’m grateful that she was adopted into our family. Without her, I wouldn’t have a sister.
36. Linda’s son’s response to the possibility of getting a baby sister . . . “If you have a baby girl, let’s name her ‘stupid head.’”
37. Linda’s own brother’s response at her birth . . . “I’d rather have a puppy than a baby sister.”
38. Thank goodness Linda’s brother decided to transform his little sister into a tomboy. It’s just one of the joys of our friendship.
39. A bi-plane flying in the morning sky.
40. Shooting shotguns and shooting really well!
41. The feel of wind in my hair as I ride my bike with my dog.
42. Seeing the beautiful old barns in the Bear Lake valley.
43. My blowdryer.
44. The scent of Russian Olive trees in bloom.
45. Getting to see snow in the mountains in June.
46. The smell of wet earth.
47. The whinny of a horse.
48. The beauty green mountains with the shadows of clouds scudding across their ridges and canyons.
49. A cool spring breeze.
50. Sun and shadow. Light and air.
51. Eyes, ears, mouth and nose.
52. Kitchen conveniences: crockpot, rice cooker, bread machine, toaster, dishwasher, running water.
53. Sweat.
54. My sweetheart – our Friday date this week was spent out in the garden weeding the raspberries. I enjoyed working together and having un-rushed time to talk and catch up.
55. Squeaky duck wings in flight. (Why do they sound like they need a little WD-40?)
56. A bold meadow lard with a bright yellow breast.
57. Dew on the tips of long pasture grass.
58. Red toenail polish.
59. My Croc-style flip flops.
60. Hearing a mourning dove as I was planting my herb barrel.
61. Semi-sweet chocolate chips.
62. My first issue of Martha Stewart magazine.
63. The opportunity of share the gospel with Jose Franco.
64. Forsythia bushes, crocus and budding daffodils.
65. The temperamentality of spring!
66. For fun neighbors who host game nights.
67. Flying the shark kite with the girls.
68. Playing a little basketball with Bug.
69. Getting to watch the YM’s basketball team play our women’s basketball team (Orange Crush).
70. Living in an amazing age when information is so readily available.
71. The words of past and present prophets are right at my fingertips.
72. Getting my mending caught up.
73. Blowing bubbles and bouncing on the hippity-hops with the Activity Day girls.
74. Getting to play in the dirt (weeding).
75. Opening windows and having the inside smell clean and fresh like the outdoors.
76. Getting counseling that’s helping me communicate better and teaching me how to be content.
77. Boy, I love a good pen!
78. It’s ugly outside, but my puppy is cute.
79. I love it when the kids laugh out loud while reading the newspaper comics.
80. Laughing out loud myself.
81. For easy access to wonderful building supplies: cultured marble, latex paints, wall-to-wall carpet, electrical systems, central heating.
82. For Patt – the effort and preparation she went to in making my birthday dinner.
83. Play four!
84. A home that is 100% finished – it’s so nice to be able to use the basement to play ping-pong and darts, and to have two televisions.
85. Snow!
86. I can (could) wear a size 12 jeans. (It was the first time in 13 years!)
87. Good books.
88. Subway sandwiches.
89. My brother’s cute little kids.
90. My own cute big kids who are growing up way too fast.
91. My local library.
92. My pick-up truck. (Doesn’t get much better than driving it while listening to country music with my puppy on the front seat.)
93. Toothpaste and a nice toothbrush.
94. Lipstick! Putting on makeup is almost like creating a work of art each morning.
95. Weight Watcher meetings.
96. Children’s endless enthusiasm and energy.
97. Fast and Testimony meeting at church.
98. The story of Esther . . . “And who knows but what thou are called to the kingdom for such a time as this.”
99. My new short hair cut.
100. Quote of the year (our son after we discovered he’s crossed his eyes in the extended family picture): “I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never do it again. Now can we quit talking about it?”
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1. My dad – we’re a lot alike in our love for the outdoors, dogs and quality.
2. My sister. She went to the Warren Miller ski movie with me this year (2007).
3. Empire apples .
4. The smell of fallen leaves.
5. The long-billed snipe I saw at the canal.
6. Six mallards swimming (sound like a chorus from the “Twelve Days of Christmas”).
7. Loula Belle – She’s bright and sunny, has such a cute smile that can really transforms her whole face.
8. Bug – his singlemindedness. Be it basketball, golf, school or church responsibilities.
9. Beans and her friend, Mallory – cute friends who balance each other out.
10. Annie – my beautiful, cheerful, playful, smart, obedient dog and friend.
11. A loving ward family.
12. The HUGE yellow-orange moon over the West mountains on my way to morning aerobics.
13. Walking to school with Beans – getting to hold her hand, noting the sun’s rays as they just started to peek over the East mountains.
14. The beautiful roses Safety Man gave me – what a thoughtful man!
15. The song of red-wing blackbirds.
16. Sunshine on morning frost.
17. An egg over-easy.
18. Bug’s sense of humor.
19. Working with Lou on the student council.
20. Playing the piano for Helen Peterson’s funeral.
21. For piano lessons – so glad I didn’t fight taking them (not too much, anyway).
22. Heavenly Blue Morning Glory blossoms on our front porch pillars.
23. Homemade oatmeal granola.
24. Zucchini and straight-neck squash.
25. Reading and marking my Book of Mormon with my new multi-colored, all-in-one marking pencil.
26. My friendship with K’leis.
27. Samuel Wood – he’s a kick!
28. For garbage day.
29. Sun reflecting off irrigation sprinklers.
30. Swallows swooping and flying over the lawn in the evening.
31. Bean’s sunflower’s nodding.
32. Our cat resting in the grass.
33. For time, forgiveness and hope.
34. For modern conveniences such as: computers, high-speed internet, electricity, central cooling, cars, hot water heaters. All amazing!
35. For my sister, again. I’m grateful that she was adopted into our family. Without her, I wouldn’t have a sister.
36. Linda’s son’s response to the possibility of getting a baby sister . . . “If you have a baby girl, let’s name her ‘stupid head.’”
37. Linda’s own brother’s response at her birth . . . “I’d rather have a puppy than a baby sister.”
38. Thank goodness Linda’s brother decided to transform his little sister into a tomboy. It’s just one of the joys of our friendship.
39. A bi-plane flying in the morning sky.
40. Shooting shotguns and shooting really well!
41. The feel of wind in my hair as I ride my bike with my dog.
42. Seeing the beautiful old barns in the Bear Lake valley.
43. My blowdryer.
44. The scent of Russian Olive trees in bloom.
45. Getting to see snow in the mountains in June.
46. The smell of wet earth.
47. The whinny of a horse.
48. The beauty green mountains with the shadows of clouds scudding across their ridges and canyons.
49. A cool spring breeze.
50. Sun and shadow. Light and air.
51. Eyes, ears, mouth and nose.
52. Kitchen conveniences: crockpot, rice cooker, bread machine, toaster, dishwasher, running water.
53. Sweat.
54. My sweetheart – our Friday date this week was spent out in the garden weeding the raspberries. I enjoyed working together and having un-rushed time to talk and catch up.
55. Squeaky duck wings in flight. (Why do they sound like they need a little WD-40?)
56. A bold meadow lard with a bright yellow breast.
57. Dew on the tips of long pasture grass.
58. Red toenail polish.
59. My Croc-style flip flops.
60. Hearing a mourning dove as I was planting my herb barrel.
61. Semi-sweet chocolate chips.
62. My first issue of Martha Stewart magazine.
63. The opportunity of share the gospel with Jose Franco.
64. Forsythia bushes, crocus and budding daffodils.
65. The temperamentality of spring!
66. For fun neighbors who host game nights.
67. Flying the shark kite with the girls.
68. Playing a little basketball with Bug.
69. Getting to watch the YM’s basketball team play our women’s basketball team (Orange Crush).
70. Living in an amazing age when information is so readily available.
71. The words of past and present prophets are right at my fingertips.
72. Getting my mending caught up.
73. Blowing bubbles and bouncing on the hippity-hops with the Activity Day girls.
74. Getting to play in the dirt (weeding).
75. Opening windows and having the inside smell clean and fresh like the outdoors.
76. Getting counseling that’s helping me communicate better and teaching me how to be content.
77. Boy, I love a good pen!
78. It’s ugly outside, but my puppy is cute.
79. I love it when the kids laugh out loud while reading the newspaper comics.
80. Laughing out loud myself.
81. For easy access to wonderful building supplies: cultured marble, latex paints, wall-to-wall carpet, electrical systems, central heating.
82. For Patt – the effort and preparation she went to in making my birthday dinner.
83. Play four!
84. A home that is 100% finished – it’s so nice to be able to use the basement to play ping-pong and darts, and to have two televisions.
85. Snow!
86. I can (could) wear a size 12 jeans. (It was the first time in 13 years!)
87. Good books.
88. Subway sandwiches.
89. My brother’s cute little kids.
90. My own cute big kids who are growing up way too fast.
91. My local library.
92. My pick-up truck. (Doesn’t get much better than driving it while listening to country music with my puppy on the front seat.)
93. Toothpaste and a nice toothbrush.
94. Lipstick! Putting on makeup is almost like creating a work of art each morning.
95. Weight Watcher meetings.
96. Children’s endless enthusiasm and energy.
97. Fast and Testimony meeting at church.
98. The story of Esther . . . “And who knows but what thou are called to the kingdom for such a time as this.”
99. My new short hair cut.
100. Quote of the year (our son after we discovered he’s crossed his eyes in the extended family picture): “I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never do it again. Now can we quit talking about it?”
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Monday, November 05, 2007
Overweight Housewife on Wheels . . .
Don’t look now, but I dug out my pair of Rollerblades. I haven’t been on them since August of 2001. I wish I could say that it’s like riding a bike, you never forget. I didn’t forget, exactly. Instead, I tried something new. Added a challenging element. My dog. (That’s us in the photo to the left. Note my hand in the “stay” position. Yet dog is somewhat blurry due to movement.)
After a couple spins around the driveway, we were off to visit my parents – an uphill climb all the way. (I took a pair of shoes in a plastic bag so that I could walk home. It’s hard enough to stop just going downhill without adding a dog to the mix.)
What a rush!
I got a little giddy. Even found myself humming a few bars of, “I’m Alive” from Xanadu. (Xanadu is a cheesy movie from my childhood. Anyone else know the song I’m talking about?) Anyway, once wasn’t enough. Later this afternoon I strapped on my blades again. The second time was even better.
I’m seriously considering getting Annie a halter to wear instead of a collar so I can train her to pull me. (Mush, Annie. Mush!) Hey, I could get a used pair of cross-country skis at the ski swap and Annie and I could mush on the fields behind our house this winter. Or up Green Canyon. (I’ve found that running is a great way for her to burn off some of her puppy exuberance prior to obedience training sessions.) I wonder if she’ll be able to pull me in one of the kid’s snow sleds?
After a couple spins around the driveway, we were off to visit my parents – an uphill climb all the way. (I took a pair of shoes in a plastic bag so that I could walk home. It’s hard enough to stop just going downhill without adding a dog to the mix.)
What a rush!
I got a little giddy. Even found myself humming a few bars of, “I’m Alive” from Xanadu. (Xanadu is a cheesy movie from my childhood. Anyone else know the song I’m talking about?) Anyway, once wasn’t enough. Later this afternoon I strapped on my blades again. The second time was even better.
I’m seriously considering getting Annie a halter to wear instead of a collar so I can train her to pull me. (Mush, Annie. Mush!) Hey, I could get a used pair of cross-country skis at the ski swap and Annie and I could mush on the fields behind our house this winter. Or up Green Canyon. (I’ve found that running is a great way for her to burn off some of her puppy exuberance prior to obedience training sessions.) I wonder if she’ll be able to pull me in one of the kid’s snow sleds?
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Sappiest Writing Takes Place After Midnight
It’s a proven fact that the sappiest writing takes place after midnight. And my watch says 12:22 A.M. Plus I just finished watching a romantic movie (The Holiday). Plus my hormones are all out of whack (have been for years) so here it comes . . .
Here are just a few things that make my hubby the greatest man on earth . . . (And don’t worry Dear, I’ll try really hard not to say too many things that will embarrass you.)
When we were dating Safety Man wore contacts. The first time I saw him in glasses was after we were engaged and on a family trip up in Yellowstone. His lenses were HUGE! When his glasses slid down his nose, he could push them back up again by winking and using his cheek muscles. (So much for not sharing embarrassing information.) I wondered who, exactly, I had agreed to marry. Since then I’ve yet to meet anyone who can push their glasses up without using their hands. If you’re single and meet someone who can perform this feat, marry them. It’ll be worth it.
Safety Man can wiggle his ears. Nothing else moves, just his ears. It makes me laugh.
Growing up I wanted to find someone who was a hard worker like my dad. (What girl doesn’t idolize her father?) I especially admired my dad for his callused and hard-working hands. I was a little surprised to find that Safety Man (who grew up as Farm Boy) didn’t have calluses on his hands? The reason . . . He always wears gloves. Which makes perfect sense now that I’ve known him for 15 years. He’s cautious and careful. And it’s made all the difference.
He uses Cherry Ice lip balm. Makes for nice, soft lips.
We once took a literary honeymoon. All day. In bed. Reading books.
He’s righteous.
Honest.
True.
Chaste. (Once you consummate a marriage, are you still considered chaste?)
Benevolent.
He gets a little moody when the Jazz lose. (Translation – he’s even more quiet than usual.)
He wrestles and tickles the kids.
In the days before ceramic cook tops on stoves, he cleaned the drip pans. More than once. Without being asked.
He’ll always be a farmer at heart.
He once referred to me as a “low maintenance model,” and he meant it as a compliment.
We both breathe loudly when we sleep. (It’s not snoring. Despite what his sister might say after this summer’s family trip to the cabin.)
Even when I’m mad at him, I have never once lost my respect for him.
He tried my mother’s gravy at my dad’s urging.
He still wears the sweats that I bought him for Christmas in 1998. And although Linda once took a pair of scissors to the crotch of the old sweats her hubby used to wear, I have yet to follow her lead. They’re just not worn enough yet. Only a little hole in the knee. Maybe one of these days I’ll surprise him.
He’s very understanding when I have a hormone headache and take two Excedrins at 8 o’clock at night and don’t come to bed until after 1 A.M. (I promise, it won’t be much after one.)
In addition to being near-perfect, he also has enough odd-ball habits to keep him balanced: picking his toenails, not being able to find things he’s looking for, driving the speed limit, being prone to lecture.
He loves me.
Note: To my regular blog readers. (Hi, Nan!) You may not leave a comment unless you share at least one quirky reason that you love your spouse, or betrothed, or whatever.
Here are just a few things that make my hubby the greatest man on earth . . . (And don’t worry Dear, I’ll try really hard not to say too many things that will embarrass you.)
When we were dating Safety Man wore contacts. The first time I saw him in glasses was after we were engaged and on a family trip up in Yellowstone. His lenses were HUGE! When his glasses slid down his nose, he could push them back up again by winking and using his cheek muscles. (So much for not sharing embarrassing information.) I wondered who, exactly, I had agreed to marry. Since then I’ve yet to meet anyone who can push their glasses up without using their hands. If you’re single and meet someone who can perform this feat, marry them. It’ll be worth it.
Safety Man can wiggle his ears. Nothing else moves, just his ears. It makes me laugh.
Growing up I wanted to find someone who was a hard worker like my dad. (What girl doesn’t idolize her father?) I especially admired my dad for his callused and hard-working hands. I was a little surprised to find that Safety Man (who grew up as Farm Boy) didn’t have calluses on his hands? The reason . . . He always wears gloves. Which makes perfect sense now that I’ve known him for 15 years. He’s cautious and careful. And it’s made all the difference.
He uses Cherry Ice lip balm. Makes for nice, soft lips.
We once took a literary honeymoon. All day. In bed. Reading books.
He’s righteous.
Honest.
True.
Chaste. (Once you consummate a marriage, are you still considered chaste?)
Benevolent.
He gets a little moody when the Jazz lose. (Translation – he’s even more quiet than usual.)
He wrestles and tickles the kids.
In the days before ceramic cook tops on stoves, he cleaned the drip pans. More than once. Without being asked.
He’ll always be a farmer at heart.
He once referred to me as a “low maintenance model,” and he meant it as a compliment.
We both breathe loudly when we sleep. (It’s not snoring. Despite what his sister might say after this summer’s family trip to the cabin.)
Even when I’m mad at him, I have never once lost my respect for him.
He tried my mother’s gravy at my dad’s urging.
He still wears the sweats that I bought him for Christmas in 1998. And although Linda once took a pair of scissors to the crotch of the old sweats her hubby used to wear, I have yet to follow her lead. They’re just not worn enough yet. Only a little hole in the knee. Maybe one of these days I’ll surprise him.
He’s very understanding when I have a hormone headache and take two Excedrins at 8 o’clock at night and don’t come to bed until after 1 A.M. (I promise, it won’t be much after one.)
In addition to being near-perfect, he also has enough odd-ball habits to keep him balanced: picking his toenails, not being able to find things he’s looking for, driving the speed limit, being prone to lecture.
He loves me.
Note: To my regular blog readers. (Hi, Nan!) You may not leave a comment unless you share at least one quirky reason that you love your spouse, or betrothed, or whatever.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Goofball Idea for Women's Ski Hat
Last night it took me forever to fall asleep. Just before nodding off I came up with a goofball idea for a women’s ski hat. Keep in mind that last night was Halloween. And I’m way psyched to go skiing this year. And my hair is short, short. And I only take off my current ski hat in the privacy of my car with deeply tinted windows. (Okay, my car’s windows aren’t deeply tinted. But when I take off my ski hat I wish they were.)
So here’s the idea – ski hats with cute hair peeking out from under the edges. The hat itself is pretty traditional, but I’d like to have curly strawberry blonde locks coming from under the hat and falling over my coat collar.
Know anyone with a really good looking, long, curly strawberry blond wig they’re willing to part with? I’m also in the market for a ski helmet this year. As the wife of Safety Man, it’s the least I can do to help him feel better about my ski habit. Maybe some long auburn hair cascading from under my new helmet would look hot on the slopes.
What do you think? I figure it beats those fleece hats with the mock-dreadlocks flying all over the place. At least I wouldn’t look like a court jester.
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So here’s the idea – ski hats with cute hair peeking out from under the edges. The hat itself is pretty traditional, but I’d like to have curly strawberry blonde locks coming from under the hat and falling over my coat collar.
Know anyone with a really good looking, long, curly strawberry blond wig they’re willing to part with? I’m also in the market for a ski helmet this year. As the wife of Safety Man, it’s the least I can do to help him feel better about my ski habit. Maybe some long auburn hair cascading from under my new helmet would look hot on the slopes.
What do you think? I figure it beats those fleece hats with the mock-dreadlocks flying all over the place. At least I wouldn’t look like a court jester.
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Inexpensive Care for Sensitive Skin
Last year when I was working at the university’s bookstore during rush, a student with flawless skin came through my check-out. Being the shy, backward person that I am, I asked what she used on her face to enjoy such radiant skin. (Okay, I may not have used the word ‘radiant.’ But then again, maybe I did.)
Fair maiden was more than happy to divulge her beauty secrets. And although I’ve been using her regimen for over a year now, I feel ready to share it with you. Yes, I still have freckles and occasional breakouts (mostly due to hormonal imbalances), but for the most part my skin feels younger. And my wallet feels fatter.
To remove mascara and eye make-up: baby oil gel. It doesn’t run like regular baby oil and wipes off great with those circular cotton pads. Put a small amount (less than pea size) on your left ring finger pad. Touch right and left ring finger pads together to share gel and then rub over eyes using a light, circular motion. Once eyes are good and raccoon-y, wipe off with cotton pads.
Twice daily facial cleanser: baby wash. (I use Johnson’s.) Best part of this is that even if I open my eyes while my face is good and sudsy (Yes Dear, that tie patched those pants), it doesn’t hurt my eyes!
Evening astringent: Equate-brand (Wal-Mart) astringent for sensitive skin.
Moisturizer: Cetaphil Cream
When I switched to the above products, the redness across my cheeks that I’d been fighting for a couple years went away. (Unless I’m experiencing a hot flash. Nothing works to rid the face of redness during one of those. Urh!) And these new skin care products are much less expensive than the Mary Kay regimen that I was using. Also, my skin is hyper-sensitive. Even Clinique’s eye make-up remover bothered my eyes. So if these products work for me, they’ll probably work for you. And best of all, there’s no multi-level marketing involved!
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
Fair maiden was more than happy to divulge her beauty secrets. And although I’ve been using her regimen for over a year now, I feel ready to share it with you. Yes, I still have freckles and occasional breakouts (mostly due to hormonal imbalances), but for the most part my skin feels younger. And my wallet feels fatter.
To remove mascara and eye make-up: baby oil gel. It doesn’t run like regular baby oil and wipes off great with those circular cotton pads. Put a small amount (less than pea size) on your left ring finger pad. Touch right and left ring finger pads together to share gel and then rub over eyes using a light, circular motion. Once eyes are good and raccoon-y, wipe off with cotton pads.
Twice daily facial cleanser: baby wash. (I use Johnson’s.) Best part of this is that even if I open my eyes while my face is good and sudsy (Yes Dear, that tie patched those pants), it doesn’t hurt my eyes!
Evening astringent: Equate-brand (Wal-Mart) astringent for sensitive skin.
Moisturizer: Cetaphil Cream
When I switched to the above products, the redness across my cheeks that I’d been fighting for a couple years went away. (Unless I’m experiencing a hot flash. Nothing works to rid the face of redness during one of those. Urh!) And these new skin care products are much less expensive than the Mary Kay regimen that I was using. Also, my skin is hyper-sensitive. Even Clinique’s eye make-up remover bothered my eyes. So if these products work for me, they’ll probably work for you. And best of all, there’s no multi-level marketing involved!
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Thursday, October 25, 2007
Be Ye Therefore Perfect . . .
I’ve been thinking a lot about perfection lately. Mostly because I have a son who is a perfectionist. In everything. To his outside observers it would seem that he’s the whole package – just what every mother wants in a son. But I’ve got the inside scoop, and I’m worried.
He has fits when everything doesn’t go just right. He grunts and grumbles and has angry outbursts when he can’t work a math problem. A couple of errant golf shots sometimes lead to a minor melt-down. He likes his room neat and tidy and every hair on his head in its proper place.
As I’ve been contemplating his latest blow-up, I’ve been wondering what I could tell him that might help. What can I do as his mother to help him get over his unrealistic expectations of himself? In the process of my morning musings, the phrase, “the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree” hit close to home.
I have my own problems with perfectionism. With unrealistic expectations of myself. With getting discouraged when my well laid plans don’t go like I’d like. With not allowing myself to feel happiness amid my own imperfections. Sigh. What have I found helpful in my own journey toward balance? What gives me encouragement and perspective?
For starters, it’s helpful to remind myself who gave the injunction to be perfect – the Lord. And I believe that he was talking about the BIG PICTURE – exaltation. We’re not ever going to be perfectly perfect in this life. That’s not an excuse to give up, to settle for mediocrity, to roll our eyes and attempt to endure to the end. I look at it this way. When the Lord asks me to do something, I’d better do it His way.
I’ll use food storage as an example. Ten years ago when we bought our first home, we could no longer use the excuse of “no space” to put off accumulating a year’s supply of food. Now remember, I’m an over-achiever. I did lots of research on food storage – how much to have, how to rotate it, the best ways to store it, ad infinitum. Everyone had a different opinion. County extention agents said to buy what you already eat. Other sources advocated freeze-dried goods. I was left in a quandary. Until I considered the source of the mandate to accumulate food storage. If the Lord wanted me to store food, then I’d better do it according to what His leaders said. (Note: The church had come out with modified food storage counsel. Check it out at ProvidentLiving.org -- http://www.providentliving.org/channel/0,11677,1706-1,00.html
I thought the myriad sources with advice on storing food were overwhelming. But what about all the various outlets that offer advice and counsel on living a perfect life? We get magazines full of tips on perfecting all sorts of things . . . golf games, home life, decorating, having fun as a family. Add in newspapers, television, music and movies. Podcasts and self-help books. Not to mention family members. It’s a wonder that we’re not all crippled with perfection paranoia.
But back to doing things that the Lord asks in the Lord’s way. I love Mosiah 4:27. It says, “And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that man should run faster than he has strength. And again, is it expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.”
When I’m feeling overwhelmed, it’s usually because I’m trying to run faster than I’m capable of, possibly doing things according to some worldly order instead of the Lord’s. Last week I had an opportunity to drive a friend to her doctor appointment in Salt Lake City. She suffers from firbromyalgia/chronic fatigue syndrome. And I mean suffers. During our some four plus hours together, she taught me a lot about pursuing perfection in the Lord’s way.
She told of wanting to see herself as the Lord sees her, wanting to know what his expectations were for her. After hours on her knees and more hours in quiet contemplation, she learned that the Lord wants her to be happy -- to experience gladness despite her health limitations. Nothing dramatic, but something definitely worth pursuing.
I guess it’s all about perspective. When I’ve got the BIG PICTURE in view, I feel encouraged and capable of accomplishing whatever the Lord requires of me. But when I remove the spiritual lens, I’m back to feeling inadequate. Is it any wonder that we’re counseled to read our scriptures daily? They help keep life in proper perspective. Ditto the temple. And church meetings. And family home evening. And especially prayer.
I guess that answers my question about how I can help my son. I can teach him that staying spiritually focused is the key to happiness, the only way to properly pursue perfection. Most importantly, I can show by example that like Paul, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” (Philippians 4:13)
He has fits when everything doesn’t go just right. He grunts and grumbles and has angry outbursts when he can’t work a math problem. A couple of errant golf shots sometimes lead to a minor melt-down. He likes his room neat and tidy and every hair on his head in its proper place.
As I’ve been contemplating his latest blow-up, I’ve been wondering what I could tell him that might help. What can I do as his mother to help him get over his unrealistic expectations of himself? In the process of my morning musings, the phrase, “the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree” hit close to home.
I have my own problems with perfectionism. With unrealistic expectations of myself. With getting discouraged when my well laid plans don’t go like I’d like. With not allowing myself to feel happiness amid my own imperfections. Sigh. What have I found helpful in my own journey toward balance? What gives me encouragement and perspective?
For starters, it’s helpful to remind myself who gave the injunction to be perfect – the Lord. And I believe that he was talking about the BIG PICTURE – exaltation. We’re not ever going to be perfectly perfect in this life. That’s not an excuse to give up, to settle for mediocrity, to roll our eyes and attempt to endure to the end. I look at it this way. When the Lord asks me to do something, I’d better do it His way.
I’ll use food storage as an example. Ten years ago when we bought our first home, we could no longer use the excuse of “no space” to put off accumulating a year’s supply of food. Now remember, I’m an over-achiever. I did lots of research on food storage – how much to have, how to rotate it, the best ways to store it, ad infinitum. Everyone had a different opinion. County extention agents said to buy what you already eat. Other sources advocated freeze-dried goods. I was left in a quandary. Until I considered the source of the mandate to accumulate food storage. If the Lord wanted me to store food, then I’d better do it according to what His leaders said. (Note: The church had come out with modified food storage counsel. Check it out at ProvidentLiving.org -- http://www.providentliving.org/channel/0,11677,1706-1,00.html
I thought the myriad sources with advice on storing food were overwhelming. But what about all the various outlets that offer advice and counsel on living a perfect life? We get magazines full of tips on perfecting all sorts of things . . . golf games, home life, decorating, having fun as a family. Add in newspapers, television, music and movies. Podcasts and self-help books. Not to mention family members. It’s a wonder that we’re not all crippled with perfection paranoia.
But back to doing things that the Lord asks in the Lord’s way. I love Mosiah 4:27. It says, “And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that man should run faster than he has strength. And again, is it expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.”
When I’m feeling overwhelmed, it’s usually because I’m trying to run faster than I’m capable of, possibly doing things according to some worldly order instead of the Lord’s. Last week I had an opportunity to drive a friend to her doctor appointment in Salt Lake City. She suffers from firbromyalgia/chronic fatigue syndrome. And I mean suffers. During our some four plus hours together, she taught me a lot about pursuing perfection in the Lord’s way.
She told of wanting to see herself as the Lord sees her, wanting to know what his expectations were for her. After hours on her knees and more hours in quiet contemplation, she learned that the Lord wants her to be happy -- to experience gladness despite her health limitations. Nothing dramatic, but something definitely worth pursuing.
I guess it’s all about perspective. When I’ve got the BIG PICTURE in view, I feel encouraged and capable of accomplishing whatever the Lord requires of me. But when I remove the spiritual lens, I’m back to feeling inadequate. Is it any wonder that we’re counseled to read our scriptures daily? They help keep life in proper perspective. Ditto the temple. And church meetings. And family home evening. And especially prayer.
I guess that answers my question about how I can help my son. I can teach him that staying spiritually focused is the key to happiness, the only way to properly pursue perfection. Most importantly, I can show by example that like Paul, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” (Philippians 4:13)
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Thoughts of Disney during spin class
First of all, let me just say that I warned the women at aerobics class this morning that I was on one. Actually, I just told them that I’d taken an Excedrin for a headache at 4:30 A.M. I figured that some sort of warning was in order. Something that would say, “Caution, Christie will be smiling more than usual. Talking more than usual. And may begin bouncing off the walls.”
Tuesdays are ½ step class and ½ spin. Basically we’re all die-hard step fans, but our instructor knows spinning is a great workout. It’s just that the ½ class of spin seems like at least an hour all by itself. So I’ve taken it upon myself to provide a little distraction during our workouts. In the past I’ve thrown out amusing scenarios along the lines of . . . Pretend we’re contestants on the Biggest Loser, and the camera is doing a close up on you. . . Or . . . Look! It’s Matt Damon ahead of us on a bike. Let’s catch up. . . Or. . . We’re only a few feet away from the Summit of Everest. Keep pedaling!
Today’s caffeine fueled spin distraction started off in Switzerland. “Velcome to our climb up zeh Matterhorn. Vee vill be seeing zeh men in zoze nice leather breeches -- zeh Lederhosen.” But that was about all I could think of to say about Switzerland. Probably because the mention of the Matterhorn took me to Disneyland. So we stayed at Disneyland.
Ladies, welcome to behind the scenes at Disneyland. You’re the little squirrels on the wheels that provide the electricity that drives everything here at the Magical Kingdom. We’re depending on you to keep the rides running. . .
We did the Tower of Terror. Thunder Mountain. It’s a Small World (during our cool down). We almost caught up with George Clooney at Tarzan’s treehouse. Orlando Bloom also offered to ride Pirates of the Caribbean with the spinner who won the sprint contest. (I was winning. Orlando took off. He looked scared.) We talked about Soaring Over California but didn’t end up fueling it. I was, however, distracted by the memory of the orange-scented flight over the orange groves. And that’s when I became aware of a marketing niche that Disney has overlooked.
Disney could sell Soaring Over California air fresheners. I’d love to buy some spray that would smell like the orange groves from the ride. Or some pine-scented spray just like the breeze wafting through the evergreens beside that beautiful California river. And maybe, just maybe, a little puff of air that smells just like Disneyland will bring some residual magic from the Magical Kingdom right into my home. (Glade home fragrance commercials are ubiquitous. Just think what the Disney marketing team could do!)
So if you’ve got a Disneyland Marketing connection, pass along my suggestion.
Tuesdays are ½ step class and ½ spin. Basically we’re all die-hard step fans, but our instructor knows spinning is a great workout. It’s just that the ½ class of spin seems like at least an hour all by itself. So I’ve taken it upon myself to provide a little distraction during our workouts. In the past I’ve thrown out amusing scenarios along the lines of . . . Pretend we’re contestants on the Biggest Loser, and the camera is doing a close up on you. . . Or . . . Look! It’s Matt Damon ahead of us on a bike. Let’s catch up. . . Or. . . We’re only a few feet away from the Summit of Everest. Keep pedaling!
Today’s caffeine fueled spin distraction started off in Switzerland. “Velcome to our climb up zeh Matterhorn. Vee vill be seeing zeh men in zoze nice leather breeches -- zeh Lederhosen.” But that was about all I could think of to say about Switzerland. Probably because the mention of the Matterhorn took me to Disneyland. So we stayed at Disneyland.
Ladies, welcome to behind the scenes at Disneyland. You’re the little squirrels on the wheels that provide the electricity that drives everything here at the Magical Kingdom. We’re depending on you to keep the rides running. . .
We did the Tower of Terror. Thunder Mountain. It’s a Small World (during our cool down). We almost caught up with George Clooney at Tarzan’s treehouse. Orlando Bloom also offered to ride Pirates of the Caribbean with the spinner who won the sprint contest. (I was winning. Orlando took off. He looked scared.) We talked about Soaring Over California but didn’t end up fueling it. I was, however, distracted by the memory of the orange-scented flight over the orange groves. And that’s when I became aware of a marketing niche that Disney has overlooked.
Disney could sell Soaring Over California air fresheners. I’d love to buy some spray that would smell like the orange groves from the ride. Or some pine-scented spray just like the breeze wafting through the evergreens beside that beautiful California river. And maybe, just maybe, a little puff of air that smells just like Disneyland will bring some residual magic from the Magical Kingdom right into my home. (Glade home fragrance commercials are ubiquitous. Just think what the Disney marketing team could do!)
So if you’ve got a Disneyland Marketing connection, pass along my suggestion.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Free Business Ideas -- Take One!
My friend that's a patent attorney would probably advise me not to give my ideas away for free, but I just can't help myself. I don't really want to be an entrepreneur, but if that's your dream and you're just looking for the right idea, read on. Use whatever sounds interesting or plausibe. Just let me know how it turns out. (And remember, you just may get what you pay for.)
Buns on the Run -- a bakery delivery service. I've noticed that local bakeries in my area deliver to restaurants and grocery stores, but why not deliver bakery goods right to the consumer? Kind of like the milk that gets delivered right to your door. In its simplest form, this business would be a bakery sales and delivery service. Product would be from exhisting local bakeries, and Buns on the Run would then set up delivery contracts with households. The pie in the sky version of this business plan is a free-standing bakery with a range of goods that can be franchised across the country -- all under the Buns on the Run trademark.
U-pick fruit farm marketing . . . Ever wanted to run a U-pick fruit farm? Need a marketing idea? Try this one: (radio spot) "You can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose . . . And you can pick our fruit! (details follow). Our ads may be tasteless, but our fruit is delicious!"
Bike Helmet Skins. While I was out weeding this week I watched the local kids heading to school. One girl's helmet was tan on top and looked fuzzy. It wasn't actually fuzzy, but my mental wheels were already spinning. Why not have more fun with bike helmets? I've always dreamed of entering a demolition derby with a pink car, and I'd wear a helmet on which I'd glued long, curly blonde hair. But why not have wigs for bike helmets? (Talk about big hair.) Safety has been serious for too long! I'd like to see lycra helmet skins that look like Viking helmets. You know, with horns. And maybe all those sport-a-holics would buy lycra skins that make their kids' helmets look like their favorite football team's helmets. I'm also seeing great kid's movie spin offs . . . Pocohantas braids, Ratatouille baker hat bike helmets, Mickey mouse ears for helmets, bug antenae, a tri-corner Jack Sparrow pirate hat... You get the picture.
Fisher Price Play Prison. You might be arrested if you seriously suggested this as a children's product. But there were times when I could have used one. One day, years ago, when my son was in time out in his room, he stripped the bedding from his bed, pulled out all the drawers from his dresser and emptied them all onto the floor. It would have been nice to have some big plastic kid furniture item he couldn't escape from.
When you dream, dream big.
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Buns on the Run -- a bakery delivery service. I've noticed that local bakeries in my area deliver to restaurants and grocery stores, but why not deliver bakery goods right to the consumer? Kind of like the milk that gets delivered right to your door. In its simplest form, this business would be a bakery sales and delivery service. Product would be from exhisting local bakeries, and Buns on the Run would then set up delivery contracts with households. The pie in the sky version of this business plan is a free-standing bakery with a range of goods that can be franchised across the country -- all under the Buns on the Run trademark.
U-pick fruit farm marketing . . . Ever wanted to run a U-pick fruit farm? Need a marketing idea? Try this one: (radio spot) "You can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose . . . And you can pick our fruit! (details follow). Our ads may be tasteless, but our fruit is delicious!"
Bike Helmet Skins. While I was out weeding this week I watched the local kids heading to school. One girl's helmet was tan on top and looked fuzzy. It wasn't actually fuzzy, but my mental wheels were already spinning. Why not have more fun with bike helmets? I've always dreamed of entering a demolition derby with a pink car, and I'd wear a helmet on which I'd glued long, curly blonde hair. But why not have wigs for bike helmets? (Talk about big hair.) Safety has been serious for too long! I'd like to see lycra helmet skins that look like Viking helmets. You know, with horns. And maybe all those sport-a-holics would buy lycra skins that make their kids' helmets look like their favorite football team's helmets. I'm also seeing great kid's movie spin offs . . . Pocohantas braids, Ratatouille baker hat bike helmets, Mickey mouse ears for helmets, bug antenae, a tri-corner Jack Sparrow pirate hat... You get the picture.
Fisher Price Play Prison. You might be arrested if you seriously suggested this as a children's product. But there were times when I could have used one. One day, years ago, when my son was in time out in his room, he stripped the bedding from his bed, pulled out all the drawers from his dresser and emptied them all onto the floor. It would have been nice to have some big plastic kid furniture item he couldn't escape from.
When you dream, dream big.
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Wednesday, September 26, 2007
The Nuts and Bolts of Nagging
Okay, so I was going to write a long, detailed piece about nagging. But who wants to read something long and detailed about nagging? No one.
Instead, I’ll give it to you straight. I’m making peace with nagging. I’ve taken a poll, and all wives nag. All mothers nag. Some more successfully than others. But no one wants to be a nag. I often catch myself doing something that’s really the duty of another member of our household simply because I’m tired of asking them to do it. But the thing is, if I continue repeating that action pattern, pretty soon EVERYTHING is mine to do.
So here’s the deal. Nagging is a good thing. But the key to successful nagging is all in the presentation – how you go about it. Timing is important. If you ask your child to do a job while they’re in the middle of an engrossing activity, they’re not going to want to do it. (This is a good reason to limit TV watching, video games, and other such distractions.) Keep your voice low when making your request. High-pitched requests are going to sound whiney and will be less effective. If your child (or husband) gives you flack, ask them when it would be a better time to do the job. Then set a timer. When it goes off, remind them of their commitment and be firm. Be cheerful. If you can make your request into a game, go for it!
A little organization goes a long way. A job chart is nothing more than nagging in writing. It communicates what’s expected without you having to say it. You’ll also have less verbal nagging to do if you make jobs a part of your family’s daily routine. At my friend Linda’s house, having their bed made is a prerequisite for getting breakfast. In our home the kids don’t get to play with friends or watch TV until their chores are done. There are times when they get sloppy in their duties or need reminding, but for the most part my kids complete all sorts of tasks every day without any reminders from me. (Having well-trained children is even better than having a well-trained dog.)
Think outside the box, or the chest of drawers, as the case may be. For a while I had a hard time getting Loula Belle to change her underwear every day. Each laundry day I’d tell her, “You only had three pairs of panties in the wash this week. That’s gross.” She didn’t seem to care. Eventually I left a note taped to her dresser that said, “Help! We’re suffocating in here! We’re your underwear, and we like to get out of this cramped drawer. Please wear a different one of us each day. We’d be so much happier. How about it? Help us get out and about!” It made Lou laugh and got my point across in a totally new way.
Gimmicks are good. Young kids like stickers. Older kids often go for cold, hard cash. Only you know what motivates your husband. If it works, do it.
I don’t have any studies to back me up, but I believe that mothers who are successful at nagging are happier than mothers who don’t nag at all. The non-naggers are the ones doing everything themselves, and that makes for lots of resentment.
Don’t become the grumpy cleaning lady. Embrace nagging. If you need to call it something else, borrow a term from my own mother. She calls it “spaced repetition.” I call it good communication.
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Instead, I’ll give it to you straight. I’m making peace with nagging. I’ve taken a poll, and all wives nag. All mothers nag. Some more successfully than others. But no one wants to be a nag. I often catch myself doing something that’s really the duty of another member of our household simply because I’m tired of asking them to do it. But the thing is, if I continue repeating that action pattern, pretty soon EVERYTHING is mine to do.
So here’s the deal. Nagging is a good thing. But the key to successful nagging is all in the presentation – how you go about it. Timing is important. If you ask your child to do a job while they’re in the middle of an engrossing activity, they’re not going to want to do it. (This is a good reason to limit TV watching, video games, and other such distractions.) Keep your voice low when making your request. High-pitched requests are going to sound whiney and will be less effective. If your child (or husband) gives you flack, ask them when it would be a better time to do the job. Then set a timer. When it goes off, remind them of their commitment and be firm. Be cheerful. If you can make your request into a game, go for it!
A little organization goes a long way. A job chart is nothing more than nagging in writing. It communicates what’s expected without you having to say it. You’ll also have less verbal nagging to do if you make jobs a part of your family’s daily routine. At my friend Linda’s house, having their bed made is a prerequisite for getting breakfast. In our home the kids don’t get to play with friends or watch TV until their chores are done. There are times when they get sloppy in their duties or need reminding, but for the most part my kids complete all sorts of tasks every day without any reminders from me. (Having well-trained children is even better than having a well-trained dog.)
Think outside the box, or the chest of drawers, as the case may be. For a while I had a hard time getting Loula Belle to change her underwear every day. Each laundry day I’d tell her, “You only had three pairs of panties in the wash this week. That’s gross.” She didn’t seem to care. Eventually I left a note taped to her dresser that said, “Help! We’re suffocating in here! We’re your underwear, and we like to get out of this cramped drawer. Please wear a different one of us each day. We’d be so much happier. How about it? Help us get out and about!” It made Lou laugh and got my point across in a totally new way.
Gimmicks are good. Young kids like stickers. Older kids often go for cold, hard cash. Only you know what motivates your husband. If it works, do it.
I don’t have any studies to back me up, but I believe that mothers who are successful at nagging are happier than mothers who don’t nag at all. The non-naggers are the ones doing everything themselves, and that makes for lots of resentment.
Don’t become the grumpy cleaning lady. Embrace nagging. If you need to call it something else, borrow a term from my own mother. She calls it “spaced repetition.” I call it good communication.
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Blanket for a new baby boy
I whipped this quilt up in less than a week from conception to finish. Most of my projects take much longer than that, but I put a rush on this one as my sister-in-law and her husband just barely adopted a newborn baby boy.
Welcome to the family little baby G!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
You're at Belly Acre Farm if . . .
You’re at Belly Acre Farm if . . .
You look in the dog run and instead of rawhide chews, the dog is gnawing on overgrown cucumbers.
You’ve spotted a house with green vines and blue flowers overtaking the front porch pillars.
Mom’s favorite song comes on the radio and she turns it WAY up and dances along.
Safety Man brings his noise dosimeter home and announces that Mom’s music is over 90 decibels.
There’s a practice net set up for your hubby and son to practice hitting golf balls into.
There are two different dents in the soffit of the back porch from errant Birdie Balls – golfesque practice orbs that your son mis-hit.
There’s a deep dent in the metal framing of the front door. It has golf ball dimples, courtesy of your son. (Note: He did receive the lecture entitled, “What if that had hit a window?”)
Two eight-year-old girls are out on the front lawn bouncing on giant soccer-style hippity-hops.
There are no more yellow summer squash in the garden. They’ve been ripped out and added to the compost pile. (At last!)
You see a white Buick pulling out of the driveway to deliver the latest round of raspberries to Hubby’s work – where they’ll be sold to his co-workers.
A dog looking like a Black Lab streaks across the back lawn towards the neighbor’s escaped chickens and you hear a frantic woman growling, “No! Annie come! Come!”
If the kids have their friends over for milk and cookies and Mother proceeds to try to teach them how to burp on demand. (This is after she’s made them promise not to tell their mothers where they learned their new-found skill.)
Fall is in the air and you hear a blood-curdling witch’s cackle. Never fear, it’s just me.
You look in the dog run and instead of rawhide chews, the dog is gnawing on overgrown cucumbers.
You’ve spotted a house with green vines and blue flowers overtaking the front porch pillars.
Mom’s favorite song comes on the radio and she turns it WAY up and dances along.
Safety Man brings his noise dosimeter home and announces that Mom’s music is over 90 decibels.
There’s a practice net set up for your hubby and son to practice hitting golf balls into.
There are two different dents in the soffit of the back porch from errant Birdie Balls – golfesque practice orbs that your son mis-hit.
There’s a deep dent in the metal framing of the front door. It has golf ball dimples, courtesy of your son. (Note: He did receive the lecture entitled, “What if that had hit a window?”)
Two eight-year-old girls are out on the front lawn bouncing on giant soccer-style hippity-hops.
There are no more yellow summer squash in the garden. They’ve been ripped out and added to the compost pile. (At last!)
You see a white Buick pulling out of the driveway to deliver the latest round of raspberries to Hubby’s work – where they’ll be sold to his co-workers.
A dog looking like a Black Lab streaks across the back lawn towards the neighbor’s escaped chickens and you hear a frantic woman growling, “No! Annie come! Come!”
If the kids have their friends over for milk and cookies and Mother proceeds to try to teach them how to burp on demand. (This is after she’s made them promise not to tell their mothers where they learned their new-found skill.)
Fall is in the air and you hear a blood-curdling witch’s cackle. Never fear, it’s just me.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Blackened Chicken (inedible)
I confess. I burned dinner on the grill. Thing is, it took days to actually ruin a meal like this. First, I had to defrost the chicken in the fridge for 2 days. (I'm married to Safety Man. We don't ever defrost meat on the counter.) Next I marinated the meat for 24 hours in soy sauce, Sprite and a little canola oil. (It was supposed to be similar to the marinade they use on the turkey at the Manti Pageant feeds.) And last, but not least, the chicken needed to be grilled to perfection on the grill outside.
That's where I ran into trouble. My husband is the grillmeister at our house, but I thought I'd surpise him by having it cooked and ready to eat the moment he walked in the door from work. Instead, these are my instructions to duplicate my original recipe for Blackened Chicken:
Preheat grill on low.
Carefully arrange chicken tenderloins across grill being extra careful that they don't fall though and land directly on the flames. (Note: using 1/2 breasts would be better than chicken tenders -- it greatly reduces the chicken that falls through the grill.)
Next, set a timer for 5 minutes. Turn the chicken tenders after five minutes being careful to position faster cooking meat away from hot spots and replacing it with slower cooking meat. Return inside.
Forget to set timer for another 5 minutes. Get distracted by children wanting to download photos from your digital camera onto the new computer. Grit your teeth when the learning curve on downloading pictures seems overwhelming. Try not to get upset at kids who seem to know more about computers than you do. Finally, download pictures successfully. (This will take about 30 minutes.)
Enjoy a moment of computer bliss at finally having a computer that is compatible with the digital camera you've owned for 3+ years. Think about supper. Inhale sharply as you realize that the chicken has been out on the grill for over 30 minutes. Rush out and try to save it.
Give up all hopes of eating the Blackend Chicken as most pieces are burnt so badly that they're crispy and black all the way through.
Laugh at yourself. Encourage kids to laugh too. Carefully arrange Blackened Chicken on dinner plate with freshly cut parsley and slices of lemon. Take a photo to post to your blog so that everyone can enjoy a laugh at your Blackened Chicken recipe.
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Thursday, September 06, 2007
What do I think about Weight Watchers?
In the last week I've had two different friends ask me what I think about Weight Watchers. Seeing as how I've lost 36 lbs. on their program and have been an active member for 18 months, I think I'm qualified to give my opinion.
I have loved weight watchers! I always told myself that whenever I got desperate enough to pay money to lose weight I'd go to Weight Watchers first. After joining I wish I hadn't waited so long. Their program is wonderful! After joining I felt like I was living the Word of Wisdom for real. More fruits and vegetable than I'd ever eaten. Oh, and whole grains too.
I think the two biggest things Weight Watchers has going for it is accountability and support. When you have to fork over funds, it really makes you committed. (WW has done experiments in the past and offered "scholarships" for qualifying dieters. But they found that people who didn't have to pay their own fees weren't successful at losing the weight.)
Weight watcher meetings are fabulous! It's good to hear that other people have my same struggles but are still committed to better health. When someone hits a big weight loss milestone (25 lbs., 50 lbs., etc.) it's fun to celebrate with them, and it motivates me to hang in there.
If you're a person who is burned out on keeping a food journal, you'd probably like the Core plan at WW. Instead of tracking, you eat from a list of core foods: fruits, veggies, whole grains (but not bread), non-fat dairy, and lean meats. Then you just listen to your hunger signals. That's the way my sister-in-law lost 30 lbs. and reached her goal weight.
About fixing family fare that's healthy . . . I'm afraid I don't have a magic bullet. My family doesn't always like the ultra-healthy stuff I fix, but they still try it. I like to serve something that I can eat, but also round out the meal with a couple things that I know my kids will eat -- like bread and fruit. Also, I try not to keep tempting sweets in the house, but sometimes I break down and buy cookies for the kids. Or my daughter makes homemade cookies. I've found that if I don't make the cookies I don't eat the dough and do better at resisting the baked product too.
I wish I could say that my weight loss journey has been smooth sailing, but it hasn't. I've been stuck at a plateau since this time last year. (I joined a gym in October of '06 and think that I've gained muscle mass. But the scale bounces up and down and averages the same old number.) My original goal weight with WW is at the top of their scale (150 lbs.). It's what I weighed when I got married and wore a size 7/8 -- it's about 18 lbs. less than what I've been stuck at. Because I'm also a walking hormone problem, just yesterday I had my doctor sign a new goal weight for me -- 168 lbs. Now I'm optimistic that I can FINALLY reach Lifetime status at WW. (Once you reach lifetime status you can go to meetings for free as long as you weigh in at least once a month are are within 2 lbs. of your goal weight.)
Lifetime members are successful 75% of the time at maintaining their weightloss. I want to be a part of that 75% statistic.
Another friend asked me if I have lots of new healthy recipes. I have a few new recipes, but for the most part I eat the same stuff, just less of it. (I've done the Flex point system at WW.) I often wonder if I could reach the WW goal weight of 150 lbs. by being more strict with my eating habits. But after trying to eat like that for less than a week I always come back to sane, simple, moderation. I don't want to lose weight by becoming a member of the food police or joining over-exercisers anonymous. Like everything else in life good health is a balancing act.
If ever I'm feeling a little frumpy, I like to really do my hair and make-up well, put on some loud earrings and give people a nice big, distracting smile. I figure that if I can keep them looking at my head, maybe they won't notice my hips! :) It seems to be working.
Quote of the day: "Never eat more than you can lift." -- Miss Piggy's Guide to Life
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Wednesday, August 29, 2007
She's living my dream life . . .
A friend sent me an e-mail entitled, "Perspective: The invisible woman." It spoke directly to what I've been feeling lately. Wanting to know who wrote it, I googled the title. Turns out that it's an excerpt from the novel, "The Invisible Woman" by Nicole Johnson.
I checked out Nicole Johnson's website -- http://www.freshbrewedlife.com/ -- where I discovered that she's living my dream life. (She even had an article about how to deal with dreams that die.) Weird.
Just yesterday I jotted down what I'd like to have on my dream website:
Frugal not Frazzled -- a place to share money saving ideas, budgeting advice, and lots and lots of encouragement.
The Modern Prude's Book Reviews -- the thinking woman's guide to good, clean literature.
Family Friendly Fare -- recipes most kids will eat made from ingredients found in most family kitchens.
Before and After -- a place to post any before/after shots. i.e. the shower before you cleaned it and after, the child with gum in their hair before you removed it and after, your toddler before they cut their own hair . . . you get the idea.
Bed-head Hall of Fame -- from the fuzzy nest toddlers wake up with to the cockatoo 'do that my own short style imitates most mornings -- the good, the bad and the ugly hair families wake up with.
Annie Investigates -- a column written by my dog, Annie. Where she researches and answers the important questions of life such as, "In what country is it considered polite to burp after dinner?" "How do cyclists in the Tour de France relieve themselves?" "Why are sunsets more colorful than sunrises?" "Where do batteries go when they die?" (These questions can come from kids or adults. I'll never tell which is which.)
Brain Cramps -- a place to read about real women doing really dumb things. My own brain cramps include letting my 10-year-old daughter cut my hair, running the washing machine with soap and softener, but no clothes (repeated at least once every other month), grilling blackened chicken (will include photo) that is so black it's inedible. Oops!
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I checked out Nicole Johnson's website -- http://www.freshbrewedlife.com/ -- where I discovered that she's living my dream life. (She even had an article about how to deal with dreams that die.) Weird.
Just yesterday I jotted down what I'd like to have on my dream website:
Frugal not Frazzled -- a place to share money saving ideas, budgeting advice, and lots and lots of encouragement.
The Modern Prude's Book Reviews -- the thinking woman's guide to good, clean literature.
Family Friendly Fare -- recipes most kids will eat made from ingredients found in most family kitchens.
Before and After -- a place to post any before/after shots. i.e. the shower before you cleaned it and after, the child with gum in their hair before you removed it and after, your toddler before they cut their own hair . . . you get the idea.
Bed-head Hall of Fame -- from the fuzzy nest toddlers wake up with to the cockatoo 'do that my own short style imitates most mornings -- the good, the bad and the ugly hair families wake up with.
Annie Investigates -- a column written by my dog, Annie. Where she researches and answers the important questions of life such as, "In what country is it considered polite to burp after dinner?" "How do cyclists in the Tour de France relieve themselves?" "Why are sunsets more colorful than sunrises?" "Where do batteries go when they die?" (These questions can come from kids or adults. I'll never tell which is which.)
Brain Cramps -- a place to read about real women doing really dumb things. My own brain cramps include letting my 10-year-old daughter cut my hair, running the washing machine with soap and softener, but no clothes (repeated at least once every other month), grilling blackened chicken (will include photo) that is so black it's inedible. Oops!
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Ramblings on art, ancestors and recognition
There was a new columnist in my local paper this morning. And he was good. Really good. I actually laughed right out loud. I didn’t want to like his column, but I just couldn’t help myself.
Now, you may wonder why I didn’t want to like his column. Only because I’ve been turned down twice now as a columnist for that newspaper. Apparently they don’t like my style. Or my subject matter. Or just me.
As I was reading today’s new columnist I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps it’s best if I just give up my dream of ever becoming a paid writer. Because, here’s the thing -- for every genre that I aspire to write, there’s already someone else writing it. And often writing it better than I could.
I spent a little time today in Park City strolling along old Main Street. I stopped in at a handful of art galleries and oogled the art. Beautiful paintings, quirky sculptures, dazzling detail – some of it beyond words of description. I examined a few pieces up close. My mind whirled thinking about the time behind each brushstroke, each color. A part of me even wanted to be an artist, wanted to capture beauty to share with an appreciative audience.
Back at home, I picked raspberries. While wading through green prickly branches for perfectly ripe fruit, my mind wandered. I thought about the art I’d seen and wondered what I’d buy if money weren’t a consideration. Then I began thinking about the people who could afford to purchase art. Actually, I had to use my imagination, as I don’t actually know many people who own or collect fine art.
That little nugget of noodling led me to contemplate people I do know. Family. As the berries in my bucket began accumulating, I acknowledged my roots. Teachers. Farmers. Quilters. Homemakers. I come from what I like to call Pioneer Stock.
I thought about my grandmas, great and great-great, and the berries they must have picked, the garden produce they must have canned. They didn’t have the means to purchase fine art or the time to create it. Instead, they spent their time working to care for their families. The artifacts they left behind run along utilitarian lines: a worn and faded double wedding ring quilt, an old potato masher with a well-used wooden handle, a mason jar lifter with calcium deposits on the metal from years of removing canned produce from hard water.
And now, back to how all this relates to my dreams for recognition. Yipes. That is exactly the word that describes what I seem always to be looking for . . . RECOGNITION.
I guess I used to get it through good grades, through academic achievement. And that’s probably why writing a self-syndicated column from 1997 to 2000 helped to keep my emotional boat afloat. I was getting a little recognition in the form of reader feedback and small but concrete paychecks.
There is something in my personality that craves, maybe even needs recognition. Is that weird?
I’m left wondering if I’ll forever be part of an appreciative audience and never the performer. Are other performers driven to seek the limelight?
Switching gears now, stay with me.
Ways that I currently get recognition:
Being a witch at the Pumpkin Walk and cackling. (Bless the Burt kids. They never tire of hearing me cackle. )
Teaching Sunday school.
Hosting parties.
Hmmmm. I guess that’s about it. But are there other ways I can “perform” and get my recognition fix?
Yeah. I’m volunteering to help the student council at Loula Belle’s middle school. When I’m goofy with the kids and they respond, that feels good. And writing the skits they’ll do for “Character Counts” might fit the bill too. And maybe I could tell my hubby and kids that I have unfulfilled performance yearnings. Maybe they’d consent to being an appreciative audience. Hey, even just being an attentive audience would be fine. (Better than the eye rolls that I currently get.)
And what about the retirement home where my grandma lives? Maybe I could play the piano for them to sing along with. I probably can’t commit to doing it every week, but how about once a month? Or every-other month?
We'll see.
Now, you may wonder why I didn’t want to like his column. Only because I’ve been turned down twice now as a columnist for that newspaper. Apparently they don’t like my style. Or my subject matter. Or just me.
As I was reading today’s new columnist I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps it’s best if I just give up my dream of ever becoming a paid writer. Because, here’s the thing -- for every genre that I aspire to write, there’s already someone else writing it. And often writing it better than I could.
I spent a little time today in Park City strolling along old Main Street. I stopped in at a handful of art galleries and oogled the art. Beautiful paintings, quirky sculptures, dazzling detail – some of it beyond words of description. I examined a few pieces up close. My mind whirled thinking about the time behind each brushstroke, each color. A part of me even wanted to be an artist, wanted to capture beauty to share with an appreciative audience.
Back at home, I picked raspberries. While wading through green prickly branches for perfectly ripe fruit, my mind wandered. I thought about the art I’d seen and wondered what I’d buy if money weren’t a consideration. Then I began thinking about the people who could afford to purchase art. Actually, I had to use my imagination, as I don’t actually know many people who own or collect fine art.
That little nugget of noodling led me to contemplate people I do know. Family. As the berries in my bucket began accumulating, I acknowledged my roots. Teachers. Farmers. Quilters. Homemakers. I come from what I like to call Pioneer Stock.
I thought about my grandmas, great and great-great, and the berries they must have picked, the garden produce they must have canned. They didn’t have the means to purchase fine art or the time to create it. Instead, they spent their time working to care for their families. The artifacts they left behind run along utilitarian lines: a worn and faded double wedding ring quilt, an old potato masher with a well-used wooden handle, a mason jar lifter with calcium deposits on the metal from years of removing canned produce from hard water.
And now, back to how all this relates to my dreams for recognition. Yipes. That is exactly the word that describes what I seem always to be looking for . . . RECOGNITION.
I guess I used to get it through good grades, through academic achievement. And that’s probably why writing a self-syndicated column from 1997 to 2000 helped to keep my emotional boat afloat. I was getting a little recognition in the form of reader feedback and small but concrete paychecks.
There is something in my personality that craves, maybe even needs recognition. Is that weird?
I’m left wondering if I’ll forever be part of an appreciative audience and never the performer. Are other performers driven to seek the limelight?
Switching gears now, stay with me.
Ways that I currently get recognition:
Being a witch at the Pumpkin Walk and cackling. (Bless the Burt kids. They never tire of hearing me cackle. )
Teaching Sunday school.
Hosting parties.
Hmmmm. I guess that’s about it. But are there other ways I can “perform” and get my recognition fix?
Yeah. I’m volunteering to help the student council at Loula Belle’s middle school. When I’m goofy with the kids and they respond, that feels good. And writing the skits they’ll do for “Character Counts” might fit the bill too. And maybe I could tell my hubby and kids that I have unfulfilled performance yearnings. Maybe they’d consent to being an appreciative audience. Hey, even just being an attentive audience would be fine. (Better than the eye rolls that I currently get.)
And what about the retirement home where my grandma lives? Maybe I could play the piano for them to sing along with. I probably can’t commit to doing it every week, but how about once a month? Or every-other month?
We'll see.
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