Tri-Color Lament

The only thing I miss about working in an office this time of year is access to one of these bad boys:

 

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At my last job I sat dangerously close to the break room (like 2 feet), so I had my choice of any holiday fatness my heart desired.  Now if I want a special treat I have to actually walk my 8+ month pregnant behind into the store and buy it.  It's all just too cliché and sad to do.  So I mostly don't.  Which is good.

 

And it's also so hard to justify buying 5 pounds of popcorn for yourself, no matter the time of year.

 

But it doesn't mean I can't still dream of taking a little hand bath in a caramel, cheddar, original menage trois.  Can I get an AMEN!?

 

And Happy Holidays!

Alcohol 3.0

I have decided that in direct parallel to the 3 traditional trimesters of pregnancy, there are 3 phases of mentality towards drinking.

In the first stage/trimester, you are so excited that you're pregnant and so intent on keeping it a secret that you make it your personal mission to look nonchalant while drinking an O'Douls from a frosted glass or pretending to drink a glass of wine at a wedding while your husband actually drinks it and begins his own personal pregnancy journey of drinking for 2.

 

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Sure, it's a little hard to go cold turkey but you have much bigger things to think about so it's not that big of a deal.

In the second phase of not drinking/2nd trimester, you are starting to show, still feeling pretty ill and tired, and have developed some sort of bodily 6th sense that tells you to hate the smell and taste of alcohol.  You actually start thinking about giving up alcohol altogether because watching people get drunk is pretty unattractive and you love waking up feeling refreshed and clear headed.  This is known as the easy, holier than thou phase.

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Then comes the 3rd phase/trimester.  You can no longer remember a social function in which you were actually drinking.  Your body's ability to ward off all desires of alcohol has vanished along with your waste line.  You hate all drunk and think they all have serious drinking problems.  And you want go into hibernation until a time in which you can come out and pop some mother f*cking bottles. Not a sip.  Not some bullshit 3 ounce pour that the Today show swears is good for your heart.  You want bottles and bottles of alcohol.  Actually, you want one of those cascading champagne fountains that you see at parties in Vegas on Keeping Up With the Kardashians.  But you want it only for you.  Sorry Scott Disick.  Get your own damn bottle service.  Mama needs her bubbles!

 

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I am currently in the trenches of Phase 3 and it is getting rough.  However, I am beyond excited to only have 2 months left and to be able bid adieu to all my restrictions soon.  But the next few holiday months will likely involve a lot of alcohol spectator sports for me and I'm not sure I'm emotionally prepared to handle it.

It's funny because last time I was pregnant I was the last of all my friends to get pregnant and deliver.  This time I'm the leader of the pack and some of my friends aren't even  pregnant with their second yet.  So after all this time I've been watching everyone drink their luscious glasses of red wine this Fall while I lurk around looking like this:

 

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Just wait for summer ladies.  This is going to be me while everyone else is still just hiding their little Zygote secret:

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But really I will have a 2 year old and an infant so I'll probably look just like I have the last 2 summers:

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Either way you best believe there will be a drank in my hand on the beach!

 

Too Much Potassium

I think I mainly want Jack to start talking so that I can stop eating so many bananas.  

That probably sounds strange but we are at a really awkward stage in which he points at things like a champ, but doesn't actually verbalize most of what he wants.  So whenever he points at a banana and says "nana", I excitedly grab a banana and ask him if he wants me to open it.  He always nods yes.  And clearly I am not going to deny my child a fruit if he's getting excited about it.  But recently once it's open the thrill is gone. 

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Apparently he never wanted to actually eat the banana.  He just wanted to watch me open it.  So I either end up adding it to our massive collection of frozen bananas for smoothies, or eating it myself.  As a person who is in a major weight gain stage of life, I really don't need to be force feeding myself any unnecessary food.  So Jack really needs to start talking so I can stop guilt-eating bananas.

Just one of the many things in life you never thought you'd have to struggle with before having a child, like getting to banks before they are even open and wanting to eat lunch at 9am because your child woke you up at the ass crack of dawn.

   

Rain, Rain I'm a Mom

There are a lot of moments as a mom where you realize that your needs are dead last in line, if they even made the list.  Like when you have to pee so bad that it makes you feel almost physically ill but you are out with your child and can't stop to go to the bathroom without leaving him in a precarious situation.  Like last week at the library when I decided to treat myself to a rare bathroom break and I had to bring Jack in the stall with me.  It was during this time that he learned rather quickly how to crawl under the stall and run away.  It was also during this time that I had to stop mid-wee wee, flush the toilet, and run out of the bathroom with my pants halfway up my butt.

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But it is during this hurricane/rain dump known as Joaquin that I am truly reminded of the SNL Mom Jeans quote, "Because you're not a woman anymore...You're a mom!"  Every time I have to run Jack out to the car he screams with delight at the little raindrops on his face.  Then he positively giggles as he watches me buckle his dry little ass in and set up his Elmo screening room in the car, as I stand just outside the car getting absolutely soaked.  So then everywhere we go from then on I look a drowned rat, who always has to pee.  And he is dry, happy as a clam, as free to pee in his diaper.

Motherhood: No one said it was glamorous.  No one said it was fair.  And no one ever said that you are ever going to look remotely presentable again.

Caress Me Down

Today I got a prenatal massage.

You know what is awkward?  Getting a prenatal massage when you are 23 weeks pregnant from a woman who is 32 weeks pregnant...with twins.

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It felt so great.  But as always, my mind started to wonder...

Does she think I'm a bitch because I'm making her rub my back even though she is two months more pregnant than me, with twice as many babies?

I wonder where in Wilmington has the best Cookies n' Cream ice cream.

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I wonder if she noticed that I only shaved 3/4 of my legs before I came here.

Why is it that when you are pregnant you fart by accident all the time, but go poop on purpose basically never?

I wonder if that hard candy I saw at the front desk is any good?  I need to pick some up on the way out.

Why can't hours between your kid's nap and your husband's arrival from work pass as fast as hours spent getting a massage?  That would probably save moms so much money on wine.

Wine.  I miss wine.  And by wine I mean bourbon.

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I wonder if anyone will ever be as excited to see me as I am to see my husband come home each day. 

If my husband could just take a day off of work each week to give me a massage and play with our child while I sleep I would promise never to get mad about him using my soap.

But mostly I was thinking about how not hype the recording sessions are when they make wind chime soundtracks they play during massages and yoga.

I want more rubs. 

J'Adore Preschool

There are a lot of moments when something happens and I'm like, "Woah, I'm a mom."

Nothing has given me a more profound sense of that woahness then when I put a sign in my windshield for carpool pick up at preschool for Jack.  There's really no turning back now.

Also, preschool is magical.  

Even though I barely had time to go to the gym and grocery store before I had to turn back around to get Jack, I still did those things.  By myself.  For the first time in a year and a half.

By the time he got home he was so exhausted that he ate two bites of lunch and almost fell asleep in his high chair.

Now he's taking a 2+ hour nap.  I feel like I'm cheating the whole parenting system.  I barely have to actively parent at all today.

The future is so bright!

A-Choo Ew

I just want to give a Friday shout out to the after-cereal sneeze.

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Not since Hiroshima has an explosion caused more collateral damage.  It's nasty.

Honorable mention to the toddler, after-Goldfish sneeze while you're carrying him.  Orange splattered shoulders are so hot right now.

1 + 1 = Oh my wine

I am having another baby in January and, even though I don't usually believe in old wives' tales, I'm almost positive I'm having a girl.  Or a demon.

You see, I have been feeling like a giant pile of doo for the last several months.  Imagine headaches that last for days and running away from meals to go vomit in the bathroom.  Basically I feel like I'm back in college drinking room temperature donkey bottles of Vendage every night.  Which I did.  And still don't understand how I graduated.

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In addition to hurling in public places, I've also been doing awesome stuff like this:

Was I even moving during this half hour??

This is what I call the "I Am Literally Just Here to Kill Time" workout".

I also, on more than one occasion, saw the commercial start for Jublia during Wimbledon and got all excited about getting my hands on some Cinnamon Toast Crunch before I realized the graphic I was seeing was a toe fungus gremlin and not a delicious cinna-square.   So that's clearly a new low.

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Basically as I always suspected, I'm just like the Duchess of York Princess Cate.  She's my morning sickness spirit sister.

JK, it's still Amy Schumer.

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And yes I'm very excited.  But I'm also very scared.  Two under two shant be easy.  But at least after January I close my uterus business forever and enjoy my only two kids for the rest of my non-pregnant life.

Not Smoothie

This is what happens when your child is basically like the adorable version of Gordon Ramsey in the kitchen with 0% patience when his food is bring prepared:

And honestly I'm only saying Gordon Ramsey because Mussolini seems like too harsh of a comparison for a toddler.  But if you don't get this kid his food in 2 minutes or less after he has walked into the kitchen, you better watch your back.  It makes for some really relaxing 6:15 wake up calls.

You get flustered at his screaming and then you accidentally paint your entire kitchen in colorful and sticky smoothie.

(It turns out even fancy blenders are smart enough to tell you that the lid wasn't on all the way.)

While my kitchen looks like a tub of blueberry curd exploded, at least I thought to look in the mirror and get the excess liquid out of my hair.  Unlike this morning, when I accidentally dropped a plate of eggs, which could not have broken into more pieces.  It wasn't until about 3 hours later that I realized I had a nice cheesy chunk of protein dangling above my ear.

I'm basically nailing motherhood.

Now on a more serious note, this is my AFTER cleaning picture.  Does anyone know how to get blueberry stain off of a ceiling?

Now I want Chipotle

Should I be alarmed that 4 separate people tagged me in this Instagram post yesterday?

 

 

 

Whatever...If the burrito fits!

Grilled Lemon Chicken with Feta Rice

I just found a very easy, quintessential summer recipe from my lasting issue of Cooking Light.  It is so delicious and the whole family can enjoy it (assuming all of your family members can use a fork).  And it's healthy!

I just love Cooking Light magazine.  How do they come up with such inspiring healthy recipes month after month?  I don't know, but for the bargain price of something like $1 an issue, I will pay to find out.

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Grilled Lemon Chicken with Feta Rice

Serves 4 (serving size: 1 chicken breast half and 1 cup rice)

Ingredients

4 (6-ounce) skinless, boneless chicken breast halves $

4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, divided $

1 tablespoon olive oil, divided $

2 teaspoons minced garlic

Cooking spray $

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, divided

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, divided

2 (8 1/2-ounce) pouches precooked brown rice (such as Uncle Ben's)

3 ounces crumbled feta cheese (about 3/4 cup) $

1/2 cup chopped fresh basil

Preparation

1. Combine chicken, 2 tablespoons lemon juice, 1 teaspoon oil, and garlic in a zip-top bag; turn to coat. Let stand 5 minutes.

2. Heat a grill pan over medium-high heat. Coat pan with cooking spray. Remove chicken from marinade, and discard marinade. Sprinkle chicken with 1/4 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper; grill 6 minutes on each side.

3. While chicken cooks, heat rice according to package directions. Combine remaining 2 tablespoons lemon juice and remaining 2 teaspoons oil in a bowl, stirring with a whisk. Add rice, remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt, remaining 1/4 teaspoon pepper, feta, and basil; toss. Serve rice with chicken.

I just used regular short grain rice that I had on hand and cooked it according to the package.  I can't wait to make this again soon and next time I am going to double it so I have leftover for lunches throughout the week.

Enjoy and happy blazing hot summer!

Which Wich and Where?

The other day I had to take a continuing education class for my real estate license.  Which meant I had to pay a babysitter to be able to pay to be able to sit in a classroom for 5 hours.  It was so many different kicks in the pants at once.

But the point of the story is, as usual, a sandwich.

After the class was over I went across the street to one of my favorite sandwich spots in town, Which Wich.

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As I was driving home I thought about eating in the car because I was so hungry.  Then I decided I wanted to savor it at home while relaxing and watching Barefoot Contessa.

Then, suddenly, I remembered that I had a 1 year old and a very needy dog.  There would be no relaxing with my sandwich ever.  That's when I decided the more luxurious option was definitely to eat the sandwich at various stoplights on my drive home.

It's funny because as you grow up, you know being a parent will be challenging, you know you will have very little free time, you know you might be sleepy for the rest of your life.  But you never think about small details like the fact that the most carefree lunch you have outside of the house all year might be by yourself in your car while honey mustard drips on your lap.

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That is also the day that I realized people eating food in their cars aren't fatties who can't wait to eat.  They are just parents who want to nosh on a sandwich in private every once in a while.

The sandwich was delicious by the way.

Oh Life, You So Silly

Before I had a baby I used to go to my favorite, nice, quality Mexican restaurant at least once a week at whatever time I wanted.  Usually we would sit at the bar, sometimes we would talk to each other, but mostly Grant and I would just enjoy our beers and fajitas and watch everyone around us.  It was so relaxing.

Nowadays, like today, I have to bribe my husband to get home before 6PM by promising we can eat Mexican food at the mall instead of something healthy at home.  Real fancy like.  Then we rush to get there by 5:30 so Jack can eat on time, spend my entire dinner feeding him instead of myself, then apologizing to the waitress for the cornucopia of shit on the floor by his high chair.

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The only people watching I do these days is to look around and make sure no one is judging me for feeding Jack directly off of what I only assume is a clean table.

But you know what, as long as I can still have Mexican food on a school night, the world is all right and my pants are too tight.

It's also funny how ballsy I am now about going out to dinner with Jack due mostly to my desperate need to get the hell out of the house.  Back when he was a baby we never went out.  

In fact, the first time we tried, we ordered an appetizer and things were going pretty well.  So we got all cocky and decided to spring for entrees.  Well, Jack must have thought that was hilarious because right as the waitress walked away he started screaming crying. 

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Grant took him, not to the bathroom to change his diaper, but to the parking garage where our car was.  I thought this was unconventional and was going to tell him when he returned.  But he never did.

After spending about 15 minutes looking like a sad over eater with a plate of nachos and two entrees by myself, I got the food to go and went looking for my boys.  I found them pacing around the parking garage, Jack still crying, Grant on the verge.  

We didn't dine out for a real hot minute after that.

Greetings

If you need something to add to the exponential list of things that are virtually impossible to do by yourself with a toddler, I have it: 

Picking out greeting cards.

I went before Mothers' Day to get my mom a card and while I was holding Jack he quickly began throw every card he could reach on the ground. 

A forward thinking person would have seen this coming.  I did not.

Sorry mom, no card for you this year.

Also, sorry to the lady at CVS who had to pick up a confetti of cards off the floor.  Next year I'm coming alone!

Te Amo Sleepy Time

Sometimes I really can't believe how late I used to stay up.  On any random week night I would stay up until 11, sometimes midnight.  And on the weekends I would often stay up until 1:30 or so just because I could.

No more.

These days I go to bed no later than 10pm.  Preferably by 9:30.  Simply put: I gotsta get my Zzzz's.  To get my solid 8 hours, taking into account Jack's 6:30 wake up time, the 3-4 times per night that Rosie wakes me up with her collar bling, and my own bathroom breaks, I need to be in a full REM cycle by no later than 10.

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Obviously that means dinner and general life maintenance have to be done earlier than pre-baby days.  I usually have dinner on the (TV) dinner table by 7 right when Jack goes to sleep.

So you can imagine my horror last weekend when Grant made me wait until 8 o'clock to go out to dinner with his friends.  I seriously felt like I was being abused.  I was only going to be getting my entree by the time I am usually having my pre-bedtime dark chocolate square!

We also had someone over for dinner a few weeks ago and when the conversation was still going after 9pm, Grant and I both got so panicky that we nervously drank an entire bottle of $5 wine that he bought while we were chatting.  We paid for that handsomely the next day.

Sure, maybe I need to loosen up a bit.  But instead, maybe group dinners and TV shows need to start coming on at 5:30 or 6.  Did you ever think about that?!

It's funny how priorities change.  My post-5pm concerns used to be 1) Do I have enough wine to last me through the night? 2) Do I have at least 4 hours of entertainment on my DVR? 3) Is my luscious fleece blanket out of the dryer?

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Now they are: 1) Is my baby going to stay asleep? 2) Did I lock the doors? 3) Buy bye.

Having a ball

I am so glad I just found my giant medicine ball in the closet. 

 

 

While it never did get me that 6 pack I was dreaming of, it did entertain my child for at least 3 segments of 20 seconds or more. And for that, I will be forever grateful.

Easy 5-Ingredient Chicken Enchiladas

I am always looking for seriously easy and delicious recipes these days.  Particularly ones that I can make while Jack naps because cooking while he is awake is NOT an option.  I am in constant fear that a splatter of hotness will land on his cute little face and no amount of delicioso is worth that!

 

This recipe is so good and easy. 

 

The only thing I did differently was to add a little bit of sour cream to the filling because it looked like it needed a little more moisture.  And I used chicken breasts.

 

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East  5-Ingredient Chicken Enchiladas

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ingredients

• 1 1/4 pounds boneless skinless chicken thighs
• One 7-ounce can mild fire roasted green chilies, drained and chopped
• 2 cups shredded pepper jack cheese
• One 28-ounce can green enchilada sauce
• Eight 8-inch flour tortilla (sometimes marked as soft taco size)
•  
• From your pantry:
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

directions

Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Spray a 13 x 9-inch pan with non-stick spray.

Heat olive oil in a large nonstick skillet. Add chicken thighs and sear for 4 minutes on each side. Remove chicken and set aside on a plate.

Add 1/4 cup water to the bottom of the pan and stir up any browned bits. Pour in the enchilada sauce and bring to a low simmer. Add the chicken back to the pan along with any juices that may have accumulated on the plate.

Cover with a lid, turn to medium-low and cook until chicken is cooked through, about 20 minutes.

Remove chicken to a plate and cool. Shred with two forks or roughly chop. Stir in chilies.

Add 1/3 cup filling to each tortilla and sprinkle with 2 tablespoons cheese. Roll tightly and place seam-side down in the prepared casserole dish.

Pour sauce over the enchiladas and sprinkle with the remaining cheese.

Cover with foil and bake for 20 minutes.

Remove foil and bake for 5 more minutes, until sauce and cheese is bubbling.

Get Cooking: http://www.target.com/r/recipes/easy-5-ingredient-chicken-enchiladas-recipe#ixzz3XKTykApN

 

You can't beat a yummy, easy, Mexican meal any day.  Enjoy!

An Apple a Day

Recently I started paying $0.99 per month to Apple, in theory for more iCloud storage, but really it was so they would stop alerting me twice a day about my lack of capacity remaining. 

 

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Yes, I am a sucker.  But also, if the price for getting Apple to shut the hell up is 99 cents per month, then I'll pay it.

 

And I highly doubt I'm the only one.  Proving once again that the evil Apple geniuses know exactly what they are doing.

 

Can you even imagine, assuming there are another million people out there who did the same thing that I did, getting over $1,000,000 just for annoying people to the point of paying you to stop?? 

 

Besides over kissing Jack and asking Grant too many questions, which I'm definitely not getting paid for, I can't think of my money making annoying habit.  But I'm sure I have one just waiting to take to the bank!

Got Milk?

The first time I really, truly realized I was a mom, even after a full year of diapers, being tired literally all of the time, and looking like Sir Frumps A Lot, was the first time I bought a gallon of whole milk. 

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I just kept thinking, "I'm the mom.  Of a boy.  This is really real."

And it is amazing.  And so, so messy. 

That is the dream

PF Chang's Chicken Lettuce Wraps

I forgot just how delicious PF Chang's Lettuce Wraps were until I got to eat at the restaurant again last week in Denver.  You see, we small town folk don't have all the big city restaurants like the super delicious chain PF Chang's.

I loved them so much I searched the World Wide Web for an at home recipe and I found this gem from damndelicious.net, that I dare say tastes even better than the real thing and is an absolute cinch to make.

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PF Chang's Chicken Lettuce Wraps

INGREDIENTS

• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 pound ground chicken
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 onion, diced
• 1/4 cup hoisin sauce
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar
• 1 tablespoons freshly grated ginger
• 1 teaspoon Sriracha, or more, to taste
• 1 (8-ounce) can whole water chestnuts, drained and diced
• 2 green onions, thinly sliced
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
• 1 head butter or iceburg lettuce

INSTRUCTIONS

• Heat olive oil in a saucepan over medium high heat. Add ground chicken and cook until browned, about 3-5 minutes, making sure to crumble the chicken as it cooks; drain excess fat.
• Stir in garlic, onion, hoisin sauce, soy sauce, rice wine vinegar, ginger and Sriracha until onions have become translucent, about 1-2 minutes. Stir in chestnuts and green onions until tender, about 1-2 minutes; season with salt and pepper, to taste.
• To serve, spoon several tablespoons of the chicken mixture into the center of a lettuce leaf, taco-style.

NOTES

Adapted from Eat. Drink. Love.

I used some Veri Veri Teriyaki as my topping sauce which was wonderful.

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