Skinny Cow Strawberries & Cream ice cream sandwich. Good.
Skinny Cow Peanut Butter & Chocolate ice cream sandwich. Not so good.
Reheated spaghetti with pepperoni. Good.
Turkey wrapped around a cheese stick. Good.
Chorizo. Good.
Water. Good.
Guinness Beer. Good.
Peanut butter & honey sandwich. Good.
Most of what I ate today tasted pretty darn good.
Yesterday after work I went to my long-awaited appointment with my sleep study doctor.
See, a few weeks back I participated in a sleep study– wait. I shouldn’t say that. It makes it sound like I’m doing some sort of experimental study for the University. No, it was just simply an appointment to see why I have such trouble sleeping. They attached a slew of sticky disks with wires to my head, chest and legs, slapped a pulse ox on my finger, and told me to sleep. I had taken a pill to help me to sleep prior to my appointment (otherwise I’d have been up for hours, no “sleeping” for the study). I was out in sleepy land pretty quick. Until the nurse lady had to come in constantly to tell me I’d disconnected my pulse ox again, or a wire came out somewhere. Not helpful. Also, the mattress was hospital-like, with a cover made from some sort of water repelling material that makes your body sweat. And it smelled like urine.
Save all that – great night’s sleep!
I left and within a day they called to tell me that I’d benefit from a CPAP machine, and did I want to speak with a doctor, or did I want to just pick one up?
Hmm.
Speak with doctor, please.
A month later, here I am, in another waiting room. Instead of the urine stench, I was put in a patient room where the smell of cigarette smoke was so overpowering I felt as if it had seeped into my bloodstream and returned to the air through my pours. After the nurse checked me in, I couldn’t take it anymore and I threw myself in the hallway, requesting a new room. I get it; people smoke. I don’t get that it would leave a smell so lingering in that room. I was sitting there baffled. Where on earth was the overflowing ashtray hidden? The chair even reeked from the prior occupant.
A new room attained, I answered more questions and learned that I had some “episodes of apnea” during my REM stages of sleep. Besides weight loss, the only thing they really offered was a CPAP. Something that isn’t covered completely by insurance, and something I’d have to pay for. There is also weight loss, which can help (and which I’m working on — my brother-in-law needs a CPAP and he’s not a fatty, so that’s discouraging). At any rate, it wasn’t the most interesting appointment. I left feeling as if I had gone to the Geico of Sleep Study clinics, and have been offered but one solution: CPAP.
Maybe I’m stubborn and distrustful. OK. I’ll give that. But I’m not too thrilled about wearing that thing on my face, looking like I’m ready to pilot the next shuttle to the deep space. My goodness, I have enough trouble forcing myself to wear my biteguard for the horrific teeth-grinding issues I have, let alone strapping on a face mask with a nose hose. Claustrophobia? You betcha!
Last night, though, Frank encouraged me to give it a try, even if it was going to cost us some money. If it helped, it would be completely worth it.
I’ll think about it.
Here lies the recovery from yesterday, along with a frenzied day at work, a joyous knowledge of not having to work tomorrow, and the preparation for weekend wrestling.
Tomorrow, JV wrestles (Carlito), Sunday Franny wrestles in a tournament. Frank works both days, hoping to pick up and overtime on Saturday. A late-night trip to Walmart reminds me of why I don’t really like Walmart, but it is too close and convenient for me to deny myself.
Whoops. Almost forgot to post today. Busy day. Work, with Advent, is crazy. Getting all of the end-of-the-year items in order along with the regular crazienss of the season. Exhausting – yet exciting in the same breath.
Today was the boy’s first wrestling meet. I’m a bit sad about Dante and his last year of high-school wrestling. But, most of all, it makes me happy that they get a year on the same team together. I want it to go slow. Very, very slow. They dueled against a non-conference team. Carlito, brand new freshman, was set to wrestle in the varsity line up. I wasn’t too sure about that… if he was ready, if a defeat would crush him.
Their team did well. Dante ended up not even wrestling his opponent. When he walked out on the mat, the other guy forfeited (on purpose) and moved up a weight class to better the team chances of winning. It was a blog. We were losing by the last match. The only way to make up for it was a pin. Guess who was up last? Carlito. No pressure, right? He was pumped when he walked out, ready to give it what he could (even though he’s not 100% sure on the rules, and as his fatigue wears on his mental sharpness drops significantly – hereditary from his mother, surely). But he soldiered through. Caught a handful of fouls. He was leading in points, but one more violation and he would automatically lose the match. I could see his head swimming, but his determination didn’t falter.
I was about to pee my pants.
He got him in the last seconds of the match. Pinned him. He was proud, we were all proud. The team was proud. They had lost so many members and things had looked bleak, but they all stepped up to the plate with heart; it was infectious. It was a nice moment. One that you can kind of ride the sails on for a while. They don’t happen often (if they did, we’d take them for granted). But when they do, they are exquisite.
We had a nice Thanksgiving. Thanksgivings, I suppose I could say. With Frank and I being off, and the kids being off I hardly know my head from a hole in the ground. Eating, sleeping, merriment, a bit of shopping (in store and online)… it is quite enjoying. I can handle this. I also think I’m getting old, because I could be sleeping in, too (11am is a nice time to finally roll out of bed on a lazy day for me), but I’m waking up between 7-8am. I’ve been trying to lay around in the bed until 9am to at least grasp on to the feeling of being a teenager with the abandon of sleeping until my parents throw buckets of water on my face.
Didn’t work.
I’m up, showered and having coffee, load of laundry going… Frank’s vacuuming (getting ready to bring the tree up). Help us.
I was talking about Thanksgiving, though, wasn’t I? Ah yes. I don’t get a lot of pictures of my oldest child since she’s off “exploring her freedoms.” But this one was nice. Great-grandma was coming up to the door trying to navigate the stairs, and as Frank and Dante (and Carlito, sort of) helped her up the stairs and safely in the house, I asked Sophia to be on dog control. I took pictures of her misery.
The dogs were, naturally, excited to be part of the festive day (our dog is in her left arm, pleased to have not been left home – the host’s dog is in her right arm), and happily humping and playing to their heart’s content. Being picked up and taken from their play didn’t make them so happy.
Shortly after I took this picture I had to take one of the dogs. Shortly after that I let it go. It was like a furry piggy, squirming and bucking (like in the picture).
I am happy to say, however, that with the abundance of children running around the house making noise, it was both inviting and valuable. Sophia announced earnestly, about 3 hours into our visit, that the evening was the BEST BIRTH CONTROL SHE’S EVER HAD. Being one of the last of her friends that hasn’t yet made their mother a grandmother, I was OK with that proclamation.
Happy Thanksgiving all.
Something to be thankful for? FREE Mp3 for Amazon Students
A deal too good not to share. Realizing it doesn’t apply to all, probably most, ignore that part and take my Thanksgiving greeting. We’re off to the cousin’s for some gobble-gobble goodness. My morning has been spent drinking coffee, making pumpkin bread. It’s hard not to have the smells of Thanksgiving festivity in the house (since I’m not hosting). The bread helped with that problem.
Peace, love and gratitude for an abundance of joy.
Somehow yesterday as I scurried around the office trying to accomplish all the tasks before the end of the day(cramming days worth of work into one day), I failed to realize that, when my day was done, I was off work for nearly a week. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday… I don’t know how it didn’t cross my mind until I bid my boss farewell. “See you… wait. See you next Tuesday. Huh.” I work at home on Mondays, so technically – Tuesday it is.
This past Sunday was spent cooking dinner and hosting Thanksgiving. Scrambling was the name of the game on Monday. Tuesday was drop the kids at school, fly to work, come home, get dinner ready to avoid a take-out meal, and then savor the 15-minutes of Me Time listening to my new-found love, Librivox on the iPod while knitting and waiting for everyone to burst through the door. I really did relish the time. I had to check myself from moaning a stage-worthy complaint when I had to put my knitting away and detach myself from the recliner.
Homework, updates, completing the concoction that was dinner (turkey and bean tacos), jetting off to wrestling practice where we take both the car and the van so the car can be handed over to the high schoolers (Dante and Carlito) who are just finishing up with their wrestling practice. I went to a board meeting (wrestling stuff), Frank coached. An hour and half later, we’re on our way home to a house with ready dinner (score), showered high schoolers (another score – the younger two get to hit the shower without a fight).
The whole time I’m thinking of my audio book and completing my scarf that I’m knitting to donate to the homeless shelter via my work, mind you.
Holiday! Celebrate!
In my bed at 10pm, earbuds in. Scarf completed and on to scarf #2. Who’d of thunk it?
Today the elder boys, once again, took the car to school and I am left car-less. This is preferred, as of right now at least, to having to drop them off at 6:30am and pick them up again at 6pm with their two-a-day practices twice a week. If I’m desperate, I can walk to Wal-mart. It’s not much more than a mile or two away. I have enough to do at home that it’s not a bother. Loads of laundry are being washed, yogurt is being made, dog has been walked, the 2nd scarf has been completed. Now I need to move on to the tedious tasks like paying bills, cleaning the bathroom and cleaning up around the house. Oh, and figuring out something for the wonderful thing called “dinner” – that’s right.
Holiday! Celebrate!
Tomorrow — feasting at the cousin’s house. Frank’s side of the family. I’ve only been asked to bring an appetizer. I can manage that. Then, if everyone does as I say – we’re off to pick up our Christmas tree. I’d like to decorate early and get the most out of the season. It goes by so quickly every year that as soon as I get them up, I’m needing to take them down.
Happy Thanksgiving. Wishing everyone safe travels, delicious food, and a bounty of gratitude.
Yesterday was our first installment of Thanksgiving. My parents were in town, and we had dinner at our house (my family, brother and his wife, my parents). We have a small kitchen, but it worked. I didn’t put on a huge spread, but had all the necessities: turkey, potatoes (sweet and regular), cranberry sauce, mom’s stuffing, cornbread, pie and cranberry bread (mom’s). Oh – and beets. I like beets. Nothing to do with the traditional Thanksgiving fare, just that I like them.
I have a new favorite recipe: Grandmother’s Corn Bread
Ingredients
- 1/2 cup butter (I use 1/2 butter, 1/2 Crisco)
- 2/3 cup white sugar
- 2 eggs
- 1 cup buttermilk (I “sour” my milk stirring in 2T. white vinegar, letting the milk sit for 10 min. or so)
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 cup cornmeal
- 1 cup all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
Directions
- Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease an 8 inch square pan. (I double this recipe and use my large cast iron skillet, which is what I melt my butter and Crisco in)
- Melt butter in large skillet. Remove from heat and stir in sugar. Quickly add eggs and beat until well blended. Combine buttermilk with baking soda and stir into mixture in pan. Stir in cornmeal, flour, and salt until well blended and few lumps remain. Pour batter into the prepared pan.
- Bake in the preheated oven for 30 to 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
The directions, to me, are a little sketchy since the eggs begin to cook in the hot butter, and it seems weird to mix in baking soda with the liquid. So, I add a little milk in with the sugar to cool it, add the eggs, quickly add the milk, and I give the dry ingredients a little stir before adding them, too. No problems and everyone likes it.
We all fit around the table, though it was a squeeze. After the food was done, the adults sat around the table a little longer to have wine, coffee, dessert and to talk. This was the first family holiday we’ve had since my parents have retired and moved out of town. I wish I had enough space that they could have stayed with us (they stayed in a hotel), but we hardly have space for ourselves. We’ll have to figure that one out. Maybe the kids will have to squeeze in a bit better. The evening went well. Sometimes it takes a holiday to get everyone together; I was thankful for the excuse.
It had been confusing having the kids go back to school this morning, since I’m in the mode of the holiday, feeling like we’re already into it. Not. Quite. Yet.
Thursday, Frank’s side of the family is having Thanksgiving dinner – this time at his cousin’s house. I don’t know what that will be like, but there will be chaos, excitement of the cousins running around – the norm. that we are accustomed to.
Today is my work-at-home day. I had Dante, along with Lootie, take the car to school this morning since they have a two-a-day wrestling today (morning and after school). I’m car-less, but not without plenty to do around the house. Laundry, cleaning, meal-planning… there’s always something to do. I might even walk to the store if it isn’t too cold out. We will see. Hopefully I can be productive instead of a sleepy little slug. Right now all I feel like doing is curling up on the couch and knitting.
Yesterday was Frank’s birthday. 42nd I think. I’m getting terrible with these things. Nevertheless, it was a birthday, and we celebrated it. In our house, the birthday boy (or girl) gets to choose a dinner (in or out). Being that I was working yesterday, I really tried to steer Frank in the direction of eating out. We started with the possibility of creating a menu, and I immediately grew exhausted. After a few emails back and forth, dinner out at Buffalo Wild Wings was the plan.
My husband likes chicken wings. Seems like every year we end up at some wing location for his day of celebration.
I did wonder about the cake. As I pondered this on the way home, I planned. I knew I had some cake flour at home. I’d whip up something. I thought about making one of Jack’s Chocolate Cakes. I had no mayonnaise. White cake? No… what to make, what to make? My mom usually makes Frank one of her apple spice cakes with cream cheese frosting. That’s it! I have a HUGE bag of carrots in the fridge. Mission Carrot Cake begins.
I checked out allrecipes.com and went out on a limb with the highest rated recipe for carrot cake called Best Carrot Cake Ever. I know. Risky rebel that I am. I saw the ingredient list and had mostly everything on hand. My mission began.
Some of the comments on the allrecipes.com website mentioned the cake being “pudding-like” which scared me, so I read a few responses just in case. If you decide to make this cake, do these two things:
1.) Soak the raisins. Bring water to a near boil on the stove, shut it off; add raisins.
2.) Drain most of the liquid from the carrot/brown sugar mix before using it. Drain the pineapple, too. Maybe that’s three things. Oh well. I put my pineapple in a colander and let it drain for a good 15 minutes during prep. time.
Other than that, this is a recipe that works. I didn’t even substitute anything. Well, I subbed the white sugar for granulated cane sugar, but that’s not a biggie.
As I said, I was on a mission. So much so that when the birthday boy came home from his hard day at work, I immediately sent him to the store for cream cheese and pineapple. Pathetic, no? I felt bad, actually, after he left. I realized I hadn’t even looked him in the eye, said hello, gave him a kiss or anything. I focused obsessively on my cake preparations and missed the whole point all-together. A habit that needs breaking.
You know those recipes that you make that totally fill the house with a smell better than any scented candle will give you? This was one of those. It. Smelled. Divine. I whipped up the frosting (1 stick butter, 16 oz. cream cheese, 1 tsp. vanilla, 2c. sugar) and put it in the fridge. After de-panning the cakes and putting them on racks to cool, we went to dinner. Dinner was good. Loud. that place is loud. But good. Our whole family was there, which is the best part. As they grow older it becomes more difficult to get everyone together in one place. Full and sassy, we came home to the yummy-smelling house and I frosted the cake.
Four candles for 4 decades.
So good. One of those instances where a thin slice is all you need.
This recipe was a definite keeper. Better than store-bought and totally tweakable. The only problem is that I have an entire half a cake left and very little willpower. Cake for breakfast. Cake for lunch. Seriously, this cake’s calorie count you don’t even want to know — especially with that frosting. Which is why, immediately after publishing this post, I’m going for a walk. See ya.
This little guy knows exactly what to do on a sunny Monday in fall.
The extent of his energy output…
…and back to business.
Oh how I wish I could join him.
