Shameless

In case fall hasn’t fallen yet where you live - it certainly hasn’t here - I thought I’d remind you that the holidays are approaching more quickly than you’d like to think. And relax - I am counting Halloween as the first holiday.

There is a new blog called Maybe Painted Pink that is all about holiday magic, be it Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, whatever. You can submit recipes, craft ideas and the like. And since you all know how UNcrafty I am, I simply plan to shamelessly swipe all the ideas that strike my fancy. But in return, hopefully I can refer some of you crafty foxes to the site and you can submit some ideas and make me feel better about not having any of my own to submit.

So go forth and be crafty. And don’t forget to share your ideas! It’s just good karma.

Who ARE You and What Have You Done with Donna?

Y’all, yesterday I lifted weights. After I went jogging with Karin.

[I'm just waiting a moment to let the peanut gallery quiet down after that bit of shocking news.]

I guess I should back up and explain.

Remember me bitching and moaning about my shoulder? I had tendinitis and bursitis (no clue exactly what that is but you can ask Dr. Google if you are so inclined. I wasn’t. I just wanted the pain to stop) in both my shoulders. Most likely brought on by the months of repetitive motion of caring for Bridget. I was assured by both my doctor and Dr. Google that I am not the first, nor will I be the last, new mother to have this issue. I was given a course of anti-inflammatory drugs and told that if that didn’t do the trick, I was to come back for a shot. Of course the drugs did not work and I went back for my shot. Which sucked mightily, I have to tell you. I won’t go into the details for those of you who are squicked out by needles but I will say my epidural was a more pleasant experience than this. However, it worked. And strangely, even though I only got the shot in my right shoulder (my doctor considerately explained that doing the shot in both shoulders on the same day was cruel and unusual punishment) my left shoulder has also not bothered me since. Weird. I’m a medical marvel. The point of this long and rambling paragraph is that in order to keep this from happening again, I should be lifting weights to strengthen the muscles up there.

So yesterday morning, when I was already sweaty and gross from running, I picked up my hand weights and did some work with them. Then! I did 100 crunches! How do you like them apples? And to top it all off, I did a bit of yoga. Not in a “find my center, commune with the energy of the room” sort of way. More of a “I really like these poses and I know they’ll feel really good right now” sort of way. Note to self: Get back to that hot room yoga class you loved so much but had to abandon when fertility treatments made you want to vomit all the time.

And I have to tell you that I feel fantastic today. OK, well I’m exhausted but my body feels really good! Also, I have to tell you that last week, I bought a new pair of pants to replace the ones that have become too big for me. I hated having to do it, but I don’t own a belt anymore and I couldn’t walk around hitching up my pants all the time. Anyway, the point is that those pants are now a bit loose-ish. I won’t claim they are too big for me but they definitely fit differently than they did the day I bought them.

I think this all means I am inching toward my goal size. I don’t have a goal weight - I just want to be able to walk into a store and pick up “my” size and know that 90% of the time it will fit me. I want to not dread having to buy an outfit for an occasion because nothing fits or looks good.

I have to tell you that between this and the new smile I will have when the braces come off, I will be a MILF very soon.

Shut up. Stop that laughing.

Fast Forward a Few Years

We’ve been watching our nieces who are nine and four. I picked them up Sunday afternoon and their parents will come get them tonight. I love these girls, but man, this is tiring. I’m just not at this stage as a mom yet. Jake’s sister has definitely evolved to this stage of motherhood, but I’m still working on the “Please don’t put that in your mouth” stage.

It was a definite shocker today, when in a store I said, and I quote, “I don’t care who started it, it’s finished now.”  I don’t know if I’ll be lucky enough to have another kid, but if I do provide Bridget with a sibling she can fight with, I know that phrase will probably come out of my mouth several more times in my life.

Don’t get the wrong idea, these are very well-behaved girls. But they are kids and they act like kids. And they are sisters who act like sisters and that means a healthy amount of arguing.  In fact, I am amazed at how mean they can be to each other one second and then completely loving and sweet the next.

At least I have my sister-in-law to help me when Bridget does get to this age. Right now I can’t believe Bridget will ever be as big as these two girls, but I know she will be before I know it.

What a Difference Five Minutes Makes

This week’s training plan was to jog 3 minutes, walk 90 seconds, jog 5 minutes, walk 2.5 minutes and repeat.

Can I just tell you that I don’t think I have jogged for five straight minutes ever in my life? And I did it twice today!  My main problem is that for some reason when I’m alone, I tend to jog too fast. I have to keep reminding myself that I am not going for speed, I am going for endurance, so I need to slow it down. I don’t know why but when I’m with Karin, I don’t do that. Maybe because we want to chat so we jog slow enough that we can still carry on a conversation.

I still look at this and wonder how on earth I am going to run three miles on Thanksgiving Day.  I try to be positive and all that, but it still just seems beyond my abilities. Thirty-three years of telling myself I hate running will do that, I suppose.  But when I’m in the midst of the jogging, I know I could do more.  I don’t because the plan specifically says not to do more, even if you feel like you can, but I could and that makes me feel pretty damn good.

If You Don’t Have Anything Nice to Say, Come Sit by Me

OK, OK, I know, I am a stickler for etiquette and not everyone else in the world is. I don’t think it makes me a snob because etiquette is not about snobbery. Etiquette is the absolute opposite of snobbery. It’s about doing the right thing so that others feel comfortable. And that’s why I just have to vent about this baby shower I attended last night.

I think I started off grumpy about it because it was at 5:30 p.m. Not exactly a good time on a Saturday for a baby shower. It had been moved because the guest of honor’s childbirth class had been moved and so it couldn’t be helped. But holding an event at that time of day impedes on the dinner hour for most people as well as other obligations. For instance for me, it put me out of the house at Bridget’s dinner/bath/bed time. Not a huge deal but I find I don’t feel like my night is right when I haven’t been there for bath and bed. Even if Jake is the one doing bath and/or bed, I like to be there to kiss my girl goodnight.  However, as I said, it couldn’t be helped so I went off with high hopes of a fun baby shower.

My main complaint is that no one was introduced. The person who answered the door didn’t introduce herself, even after I said, “Hi, I’m Donna,” she simply welcomed me and ushered me in. I had no idea which of the two hostesses this was and only by looking at pictures on the wall did I figure out that she was the one who lived in this house. The guest of honor also didn’t introduce anyone to anyone else, so it was quite awkward. It was obvious that most of the guests were old friends and siblings and mother/daughter and no thought was given to the fact that some of the guest of honor’s co-workers and friends from other areas of her life were there.  I was able to ascertain the names of the other guests only as the presents were being opened.  Even the guest of honor’s mother and mother-in-law were just sort of there. If I hadn’t recognized each of them from her wedding, I wouldn’t have known who they were so I could greet them accordingly.

The other big issue I had was the “please address your own thank you note.” I think you all know how I feel about that. BIG FAT NO-NO!!!!!  (This is second only to having showers for a second baby/wedding in the list of shower etiquette no-nos.) If I have gone to the trouble of buying you a gift, wrapping that gift, lugging that gift and attending your shower, the least you can do is write the addresses on the thank you note yourself.  I know she’s pregnant but it is not that taxing to sit on your couch and write your thank you notes while you watch TV. I don’t blame the guest of honor here, it was the hostess who had this bright idea. But please, for the love of all that is good and right in the world, hostesses take heed. Please do not ask your guests to address their own thank you note. It is rude. If you want to help out your guest of honor, print off a list of all the attendees with their addresses and use that list to write down the gifts. That way she has the list and the addresses all together and the items given by each person.

Anyway, the main vibe in the room is that if you weren’t one of the members of this already close-knit group, you were an outsider. No one was rude, but no effort was made to draw any of us into conversation or really to acknowledge that we were there at all. Luckily, I had two other friends there (we used to co-workers of the guest of honor) so I wasn’t hanging out with no one to talk to.

Is it really that hard to be a good hostess? I didn’t think any of the things you do to be a good hostess are really things you need to think about. It’s just a matter of considering how you would feel as a guest in someone’s home, and around people whom you have never met. And there is nothing snobbish about that.

Couch to 5K: Day Whatever

I have no idea what day it is anymore.  The last day of Week 3, so I guess that makes it Day Nine.

Since Karin had the absolute gall to go and get married and go on her flingin’ flangin’ honeymoon, I was all alone this morning. And it was the first time that I considered not going when the alarm went off. I’m tiiiiiiir-ed. I feel stuffy. Blah. But I went. I considered it homework. We vowed while we were apart to finish Week 3 on our own and start Week 4 and then we’d reconvene on Wednesday. And I didn’t go yesterday, mainly because my knee is hurting a bit and I wanted to give it an extra day to get better, (I think it’s just muscle pain, nothing serious) but also because by skipping that day, it put me on the right schedule again to be back with Karin on Wednesday morning.

Running alone sucks. I know for absolute certainty that without Karin, I would have bailed on this about eight workouts ago.  No more going two days in between runs. That is tough. Every other day is about perfect for me.

Although it must suck for Karin, having to get up and exercise on her honeymoon. But she has the advantage of being married to a runner who happens to be training for the Chicago Marathon in two weeks, so he’s getting up to run too. At least she has someone to get up with her. Maybe Monday I’ll take a dog with me.

But the best news is that we are now one-third of the way done with our training. I still look ahead a few weeks and think there is no way in hell I’ll be ready to do this. The moral of that story is to stop looking ahead in the training plan.

Crafty Fox

OK, so if you know me, you know I am the LEAST crafty/creative person on the planet. I can’t decorate my house, I can’t knit, stamp, cross-stitch or scrapbook. I can’t make fancy bows and the thought of making my own soap causes my ass to twitch. It’s just not a gene I got.

But I do like to have some sort of seasonal decoration on my front door. A few years ago, through Southern Living at Home, I bought this wrought iron basket that hangs on your front door and the idea is that it easily holds silk flowers and you can tie a ribbon on it or not as your heart desires. I much prefer this to wreaths because wreaths are hard to make and require way too much storage room. This solution means I only have a few bags of silk flowers and some ribbon to store. Anyway, in the past my attempts at creating my seasonal baskets have been less than stellar. I don’t know why, but they have been. Well, I like my Christmas one, but that’s it.  I don’t like any of the others.

Earlier this week, I was in the craft store for another semi crafty project that may or may not ever get completed when I decided that my fall flowers were just not cutting it. And the fact that florals were 50% off was the deciding factor. I just picked up what appealed to me and sort of put it together in my hand and decided I liked the way it looked so I bought it. That evening, I put it together and was so impressed with my work that I had to toot my own horn here and show you the fruits of my labor.

Isn’t it pretty and fallish? Never mind the fact that it’s still 90 degrees outside and probably will be for the next month and a half. I feel fallish so my door is going to look fallish too.

Diaper Dilemma

I need your input.

Scenario: Baby has been down for a nap for only about 35 minutes, when over the monitor you hear her stirring. And then grunting. You know that a poopy diaper is what you would find if you went in the room. But you also know that if you go in there and change it, the baby will be awake with no hope of going back to sleep. But the baby is not crying and if you leave it, the baby will go back to sleep and get in a normal nap.

Do you go change the diaper?

‘Cause I’m not.

Ten Months

Today my little Bridgie Bear is ten months old. I think back to what I was doing this time last year and it’s just incomprehensible that this much time has past this quickly. Wow. This time last year I didn’t even know her, didn’t even know what gender she was and now I can’t even imagine life without her.

Bridget is so big, or at least she thinks she is. I’d say walking is not very far off, if she could just remember to keep her feet flat rather than stand on tip-toe. I catch her standing on her own for longer and longer every day. She can even stand on her own and clap her hands without falling over. I have not seen her get to a standing position from a seated one, and I don’t know if that step is required before the walking starts or not. She really likes the walk behind toy we got her, although until she was at my brother’s house last weekend for Lilly’s first birthday, she never thought to walk behind it. Maybe Lilly showed her how it was done but now at home, when you put Bridget behind that thing, she takes off. I of course walk behind her on my knees and hold it steady so she doesn’t take a header but she is pushing and walking to keep up.

The other day she was in her play pen hanging out and we looked over at her to see her pulling herself up like she was doing a chin-up, no feet on the floor. Then she used her feet to try to climb up the side. I have a feeling I’m going to need to put that crib tent in her bed to keep her contained.  So far she doesn’t have the strength to get herself over the side of it or her crib but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.

And yes, we do use the play pen. We don’t leave her in it all day or anything, but without it, we’d be lost. I honestly don’t think there is any amount of baby-proofing we could do that would keep this girl from putting herself in harm’s way. At least not that would allow us to actually live in the house. So yes, she gets put down in the play pen when we need to have both hands free and can’t keep our eyes on her at all times. Also, I think containing her for a bit is good, because it keeps her from burning off every single calorie she ingests. And sitting in the play pen is the only way this child would sit on her bottom and play with a book or some blocks or a stuffed animal. Because if there is room to move, she is going to move.

Bridget is such a happy baby! I love that she wakes up every morning babbling to herself in her crib, just happy as a lark. I go in every morning and am usually greeted by her standing up and smiling at me, and banging her hand on her crib rail in excitement, as if to say, “Hey! It’s you! I’m so glad you’re here!” When I pick her up, she pats me on the shoulder in such a sweet little way. I don’t know if it is but I choose to view that as affection for me. She laughs easily and often. She has the sweetest little voice and nothing makes me happier than to hear her squeal with delight.

Sleep is generally good, but the last few nights, she has had episodes of crying for no reason we can determine. It’s either teeth or gas, we think. So we treat both and snuggle her for a bit and so far <knock on wood> she goes back to bed pretty easily. Bridget is still working on that first bottom tooth. It’s now clearly visible on the gum, but it doesn’t really stick up yet. I don’t know exactly how far up out of the gum it has to be before it stops hurting, but apparently we aren’t there yet.

Bridget is a really good eater these days. She never wakes up crying to be fed in the mornings. But no matter how long you take greeting her and playing with her before getting down to the business of feeding. she is fine until you lay her down on the changing table to get a fresh diaper. Then she gets really annoyed and wants that bottle NOW! As far as solids go, she likes everything we’ve given her so far. I haven’t seen her refuse anything at all. She eats a staple of deli turkey or chicken, ground beef, cheese, eggs (our doctor said since there is no family history of food allergies we could give her scrambled egg, and she’s fine),  peas, rice, corn, green beans, yogurt, baby goldfish crackers (they make them in a wee size for little ones!), rice cakes (thanks to Shelly and Peanut) fruit, potato, pasta…. the list goes on. Eating out with her is very easy because she is so willing to eat anything we put in front of her. Hamburger? Ok. Chicken breast? Ok.  We are having another spoon standoff.  I still feed her either yogurt with cereal and fruit in it (comes that way from the grocery store) or I mix baby cereal with baby food fruit. The doctor told us we could abandon the cereal but the nurse said she needs it so we are going to keep giving it to her as long as she’ll take it. But she really enjoys feeding herself and is starting to make more and more determined grabs for the spoon. I am not one of those moms who won’t let her do it because she’ll make a mess because, who cares? Messes clean up. But the fact is that she can’t physically maneuver the spoon into her mouth with the contents intact so she’d never eat anything if I let her try. And it’s important that she gets that stuff at least (very high calorie and high nutrition) so I have to play keep-away with the spoon. We’re having mashed potatoes for dinner tonight so I’ll probably let her try that with a spoon and see how she does.  I do sort of wonder if we are offering her enough food, if my worry over her choking is keeping me from giving her things she should eat.

What is really freaking my brain at this moment is how close to being a year old she is. I just can’t understand how it’s all going by so fast.

Banana Bread Recipe

I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. Here is my favorite banana bread recipe.

1 1/4 cup sugar
1 stick butter, softened
2 large eggs
1 1/2 cups mashed ripe banana (3 or 4 medium sized bananas)
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 tsp vanilla
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 cup chopped walnuts, if desired

Preheat oven to 350 (325 if using dark nonstick pans). Grease BOTTOMS ONLY of two 8 inch loaf pans with shortening or cooking spray.

Mix sugar and butter (best to use mixer for this step to get it really smooth) in a large bowl. Stir in eggs until well blended. Add bananas, buttermilk and vanilla. Beat very well - may still be lumps of banana.

In a separate bowl, mix flour, salt and baking soda .

Add dry ingredients to the banana mixture and mix it as little as possible, just until the dry ingredients are moistened. Add nuts if using.  The more you mix, the less the bread will rise, so be gentle!

Pour into pans and bake approximately one hour.

If you used darker pans, you definitely want to check it at about 45 minutes. Bread is done when a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Don’t be afraid to check it if looks done - you want make it fall by checking too often, but overbaking will lead to a tough crust.

Hope you enjoy!