Cats > Dogs

I am more of a cat person. They're self-cleaning, independent, etc. I don't dislike dogs, I just don't automatically love them. They jump all over you, they smell (don't try to deny it), they slobber, they need you to take them outside at all hours of the day/night, they're messy, they're loud, etc. I just prefer cats. That being said, I still like dogs and will pet and play with them when I visit friends and family. When I was a teenager, we adopted a black lab puppy and when I came home from work she would crawl into my lap and sleep. She still tried this full-grown. I loved that dog. I like most dogs and mostly tolerate their I-just-met-you-and-must-lick-you enthusiasm. I can enter a room with four other people (including babies and small children) and invariably the dog will seek me out first. It's almost as if they can sense my wariness. I'm certain they can smell it. The second I sit down they are up on my lap and sniffing my head. It often takes the owners several minutes to realize my predicament. I laugh and don't usually mind.

Usually.

I went over to a friend's house the other day. She has a small dog. I think small dogs tend to be on the yappy side in order to make up for their size. They need to be fierce (in dog mind) because they are small. I don't like most small dogs. Dachshunds, Malteses, and terriers are pretty much the only exceptions. Aside from their yappiness, they are plain ugly. Especially the ones that look like a door was slammed in their face. And yes, there ARE ugly cats too, but we're not talking about cats right now. Stay focused. This particular small dog wasn't ugly, but she isn't cute.

As soon as she was allowed out to inspect me, she began licking every piece of exposed skin she could find. I couldn't sit down because she was especially intent on my ears. She started jumping up my leg as if I had a squirrel hidden in my hair somewhere. Her owner would get her to stop, so I could go and sit down. So she'd resume jumping all over me like a toddler who has spied you eating Oreos. Then I'd stand up and the owner would call her off. This cycle was repeated several times until I passed her interrogation. Once I was allowed to sit down, she decided I was now her best friend. She climbed up on the pillow next to my head and presented her rear end to my face several times. She took no less than 1,000 turns around the pillow and finally settled down.

I thought I was in the clear.

All of a sudden, there was a new threat in her doggy mind. The location of this threat was her crotch. So intense was her focus, that all other noise was eclipsed by her determined chewing, licking, and snorting. "The butt nugget must die! I must find it and neutralize it! ALL THINGS DEPEND ON THIS!!!"

The minutes ticked away as I prayed for cessation. I was enjoying conversation with my friend when out of nowhere, A TONGUE WAS IN MY MOUTH. My new best friend decided I must sample what she had been enjoying for the last 30 plus minutes. "Taste the butt nugget, Human! Don't you think it tastes dangerous?!?!" I gagged and did my best to wipe my mouth out discreetly.

The rest of the evening passed without incident. Until then. Came then.

After a brief nap, the dog resumed her crotch patrol. After a while, she stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief, until I noticed her having difficulty getting the last swallow down. All my senses were on high alert for the millions of hours it took. She then stretched and started to stand up. She put her front paws down on my leg, indicating she wanted to crawl into my lap.

Three things happened in the next millisecond.

One: The dog started heaving.

Two: My brain started screaming at my body, "WE ARE AT DEFCON 1. NUCLEAR WAR IS IMMINENT. MOVE NOW!"

Three: The dog regurgitated all of its last meal and all of the butt nuggets it had worked so tirelessly to remove.

Because I had started to get up, the landing area was mostly on the couch. Sadly, my leg was also a casualty. All I could do was sit there, with dog vomit soaking into my pants, while my friend put the dog outside and grabbed some paper towels. All she could manage to say was, "Sorry my dog threw up on you." And truly, what else can you say at that point?

The dog was relegated to the outdoors for the rest of the evening and made sure we knew how much this displeased her.

At least cats have the decency to puke on the carpet or your bed.

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies

My friend Lizz gave me two cookbooks of her family's favorite recipes. Pretty much everything we've tried from them has become a favorite in our home too. These cookies are no exception.

What you need:

1 cup sugar
1 cup canned pumpkin (NOT the pie filling)
1/2 cup butter, softened
2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinammon
1/4 tsp salt
1 package mini chocolate chips


What you do:

1. Preheat oven to 375. Mix sugar and butter (I used my KitchenAid for all the mixing). Add pumpkin and mix well.

2. Add other ingredients and mix thoroughly.

3. Drop by spoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets.

4. Bake for 8-10 minutes. Makes about 4 dozen.

Enjoy!!

I sometimes decrease the amount of chocolate chips because these cookies will be very generous on the chocolate ratio. :)

Caramel Corn

My friend from high school, Becky, hosts a "Romance Movie Night" where we get to watch some of my favorite stories from Jane Austen, Elizabeth Gaskell, Charles Dickens, etc. Everyone also brings something delicious to snack on. Last time someone brought homemade caramel corn. Soooooo goooood. Her recipe called for sweetened condensed milk, which I did not have. I got this recipe from my friend Lizz (also from high school, go WX Wildcats!).

I may or may not have eaten it for dinner.

What you need:

plain popcorn
1 1/2 cups white sugar
1 cup brown sugar (I only had dark brown)
2/3 cup dark Karo syrup (I only had light)
3/4 cup water
1/4 cup butter (1/2 a stick)
3/4 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp baking soda

What you do:

1. Butter a large bowl. Pop enough popcorn to fill the bowl. Set aside.

2. Bring the sugars, syrup, and water to a boil and cook until it reaches the hard ball stage. I had never done this before, and I'm still not sure I got it right... I only have a meat thermometer which tops out at 220. But it worked out and tasted great!

3. Remove from heat and add remaining ingredients. Stir well. Immediately pour over popcorn, stirring as you go.

Enjoy! This had a delicious hint of vanilla and just enough salt to give it that salted caramel taste. I think I 'll go have some more right now.

Chocolate-Orange Truffle Cake

I have to admit that the first time I saw this cake I scoffed. Homemade cake from a box? NO thanks.

I am happy to say that I was wrong. So very, very wrong.

This cake in no way tastes like a box cake. Here is the original recipe where it has a FIVE STAR rating. I have modified it for more orange flavor like other bakers because, orange.

What you need:

For the cake:
1 box Betty Crocker SuperMoist chocolate fudge cake mix
water, vegetable oil, and eggs as called for on the box
1 Tbsp orange zest (this took me two oranges to get)

For the frosting and topping:
1 tub Betty Crocker Rich & Creamy chocolate frosting
1/3 cup heavy whipping cream (don't skimp on the fat)
1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1/8 tsp orange extract


What you do:

1. Bake and cool cake as directed on package for two round pans; add the orange zest with the water.

2. Stack and frost the cake. Make sure to put a layer of frosting between the two layers.

3. Heat cream in a 1-quart saucepan over medium heat until hot. DO NOT BOIL.

4. Remove from heat and add chocolate chips. Stir until melted and smooth.

5. Add orange extract and stir. Let stand 5 minutes.

6. Carefully pour onto top center of cake and spread to the edge, allowing some to drizzle down the sides.

7. Refrigerate about 1 hour or until chocolate is set.



Enjoy!!

He Cooks: Honey Ginger Chicken

Ingredients 

Per pound of chicken use (we eat about 2-3 pounds):

Marinade and reduction sauce

• 6 tb Soy Sauce
• 4 tb of Honey
• 4 tb non-alcoholic white wine
• 2 tb Ginger
• 2 tsp Fresh Garlic

To Experiment:
1 tb of Dijon Mustard
or
1 tb sriaccha sauce
or
Lime Juice

Garnish

• Cut green onions
• Sesame seeds

Steps

•  Cut the raw chicken into bite sized pieces
•  Mix the Marinade together and place in good sized bowl (wisk together until try components are well mixed)
•  Marinade the chicken in the bowl for about an hour.
• Once marinated, have a pan ready at medium high heat with a bit of oil and Sesame oil. When the chicken hits the pan, it needs to be already hot to give it a quick sear.
• Sear the chicken until brown. and then continue until the chicken is cooked through.
• Take all the chicken out of the pan, and pour the rest of the marinade into the pan. Lightly boil out some of the liquid turning the marinade into a reduction sauce. (until it is sticky)
•  Add the chicken back in and toss until the chicken is throughly coated.
•  Serve on top of white rice with a veggie.

He Cooks: Beef and Broccoli

Marinade
1 pound thin sliced sirloin
4 Table spoons Soy Sauce
1/2 cup beef broth
1 tea spoon garlic powder (or minced fresh garlic?)
2 table spoons brown sugar
1/2 tea spoon ginger

(To try: Green Onions? Leeks?)

Olive/Canola/Vegetable Oil of choice for Saute (Sesame Oil to try next time?)

3 tablespoons corn starch
Dash of Red Pepper
Dash of Black Pepper
Dash of Garlic Salt
Bit of Sesame Oil for flavor (if not used primarily)



Thin sliced Sirloin.






Marinade

Combine everything except the corn starch in bowl a and mix until it's disolved. Cut the thinly sliced Sirloin into bite sized strips and place into the bowl with the marinate Sirloin for 30 minutes.







Sear


Remove from marinade and heat pan with sesame oil. Saute the marinated beef in the marinade. Let the marinade reduce. (Boil down a bit). Add the Broccoli which should almost soak up the last of the liquid from the sauce, so add some more marinade back in with corn starch to thicken the sauce. Reduce this group down until the sauce in the pan is nice and thick. You should have to stir fry quite a bit during the time and watch closely. Finish with the last of the marinade into the sauce. There shouldn't be much left. After a minute or two (enough to cook any raw meat danger out of the marinade) pull off of heat and prepare to serve.



Top on to rice.

Story of My Life

'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't
You can't make your heart feel something it won't
Here in the dark, in these final hours
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power
But you won't, no you won't
'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't

These lyrics have run their course through my head more than a few times over the last two decades. They always sting. They always hurt. They always make me cry.

 

I love. I love so much sometimes it becomes detrimental to my well-being. I am loved back, but not the same. Sometimes I am just tolerated. And I know it. And it hurts.

So for now I am just going to allow myself to be hurt. Because I know I am loved, but not really liked, by some of the people that mean the most to me in the world. And that sucks. 

I Am Fat

For purposes of this post, I am going to use fat instead of the word obese. I am going to use the definition of obese though, which according to the National Institutes of Health is:

"Obesity means having too much body fat. It is not the same as being overweight, which means weighing too much. A person may be overweight from extra muscle, bone, or water, as well as from having too much fat."

I honestly don't remember when I actually became fat. I look back at pictures of my younger self, including when I was a size 10 in High School and thought I was a blimp, and think, "Wow. I would love to look like that now."

You see, I wasn't fat. But I thought I was.

I remember hearing the words somewhere around third grade. I was 7.

"Overweight."

"Heavy."

It didn't take long for me to believe I was. I looked at the big girl in my class and thought, "Is that what I look like?"

It must be true. I looked at myself in the mirror and I don't remember what I looked like. ALL I SAW WAS WHAT I WAS TOLD.

I didn't hear it from my classmates.

I heard it at home.

"You don't need another helping."

"You don't need the sugar."

All I knew was that I was hungry and that I wasn't allowed to eat more. I would sometimes sneak food because I was legitimately hungry. We didn't have candy or processed food in the house. My Mom baked with honey and whole wheat flour. She made our yogurt and bread from scratch. We ate fresh vegetables and fruits every day.

My brothers and I ate the same foods. We played outside together. We all played soccer. So why was I the one singled out? Commented on? Because I wasn't skinny like the boys? Because I was a girl?

Look at this picture:

It was taken sometime in the late 1980s. I was about ten. I am not fat. None of us are fat. I can't even call myself pudgy here, but I was well into self-loathing by this point. I felt my fat thighs exposed in those shorts. I didn't like wearing shorts above my knees because I was trying to hide my fat. I intentionally wore clothing too big for me, again so I could hide my ugly body.

My older brother had started in on it too. He used to sing lines from "Baby Got Back" at me in a cruel and nasty voice.

"I like big butts and I can not lie"

"Red beans and rice didn't miss her"

He did this without punishment. He did this because he heard how my parents talked to me. One parent said to me in front of my siblings I could win Miss Universe because I was so large.

I'm about 11 here. See that sweatshirt? I'm using it to cover my enormous rear end. I wished the arms could cover my thighs better. They're practically bursting out the seams of those jeans.

I'm about 12 here. This is when I really started to wear clothing that was too big for me.

I didn't want to wear a bra when the time came. It meant I was fatter, not that I was female. I was filling out and was still only 5 feet tall. I wasn't curvy. I was fat. And I was ashamed. I wore baggy sweatshirts so much that my best friend thought I was wearing them to hide being flat. Oh how I wished!!! She told me her theory was wrong though, because she could tell I wasn't flat whenever the wind blew. I was mortified. Someone else had noticed my flab and pointed it out.

I remember when I hit 100 pounds on the scale. It was in Junior High, 7th grade. It destroyed me. I sobbed in the empty locker room. I heard voices in my head, mocking me and saying, "Well it's finally happened. She weighs 100 pounds. Let's have a party and celebrate our disappointment. We'll do this again every 100 pounds. It's inevitable."

I tried out for the soccer team and didn't make it. My neighbor then convinced me to try out for Drill Team because I had some dance training. I never thought I'd make it. I wasn't popular. I wasn't pretty. I wasn't skinny. But I had rhythm. I made the team. I was still fat though. I chose an XL skirt to wear. It was huge. I had to fold it over and pin it. It looked funny but I dealt with it because there was no way I could fit in anything smaller. That's what I get for being fat.

When we moved to a new state in the middle of my 9th grade year I was relieved. I was determined to make a fresh start with people that hadn't seen me blob out. These people were nice! They liked me! I wanted to try out for soccer again! I missed try-outs, but the coach was kind enough to let me practice with the team every day. He just didn't have the heart to tell me I sucked and that's why I was never officially on the team. I didn't even make first cut the next year.

During that season though, I started getting comments from girls on my nice, muscular legs. I was suddenly mortified again. After all, I was still being told at home that I was fat so I still wore baggy shirts to try and hide it. It couldn't be muscle they saw. Couldn't they see how I jiggled?!

I realized that my extended family (on both sides) had an influence on this too. I have a cousin that is obsessed with people's weight, including her own. She struggled with an eating disorder for years. Others constantly commented on everybody's weight, skinny or fat. I remember a visit to an Aunt's house when I was 16. I had finally had grown into my current height of 5'8". She put her hands on my hips to emphasize her point and said, "You're looking so good... and you've slimmed down." I hadn't done anything differently except grow taller, but I frantically racked my brain for something that I HAD done because whatever it was it worked! They liked me now! I MUST KEEP DOING THIS THING!!

During my Junior year I started noticing that guys were noticing me. And flirting. I was baffled. Me? Fat me?? And they wanted to kiss me?! Suddenly, my whole world had meaning. If these guys are attracted to me, that means I'm attractive right? RIGHT?! They must like me if they want to make out with me!

Thus began the horrid deception of self-esteem built upon what boys thought of me. I am still living with the consequences of that. The rest of my High School days and all of my 20s were spent caught in a vicious cycle of self-loathing. It influenced every single one of my life choices. Maybe that's when I became fat, I just couldn't admit it.

Moving to California was the best thing I could have done for myself. It took a while, and a lot of slip-ups, but I was now putting forth a concerted effort to build my self-esteem with an eternal perspective. I wasn't completely where I wanted to be, but eventually I was healthier than I had been at any other point in my life. Emotionally, physically, spiritually, and mentally. Completely independent of what ANYbody else thought of me.

I had come to grips with the fact that I would never be skinny, but I could get my weight into a healthy range. And I did. I was running 2 miles every other day. I was eating more vegetables than ever. I was limiting sugar. I was doing yoga and Pilates. It drove me nuts that my roommate ate fast food and junk constantly, never worked out, and was tiny. I will never have that luck. I will always have to work very, very hard to stay at a healthy weight.

Todd came along at the right time in my life. Any earlier and I would have been too insecure to handle our relationship. He loved me. Size 12/14 and all.

Even now after our three babies, he still loves me at a size 16/18. I can no longer deny that I am fat. I can't find pants that fit me because of my muffin top. Actually, it's more like a loaf. I have a big, squishy belly that sags and doesn't look right in anything. I have back fat. I can see the cellulite on my shins now. I hate going anywhere because that means I have to put on clothes that I look horrible in. I am heavier now than I have ever been. I hate pictures of anything but my face lately. Even that is getting fat. I am still hearing comments about my weight, but for the most part I have a much healthier relationship with my family members now.

It would be nice if I could blame the fat on baby weight, but I actually lose weight during a pregnancy. I weigh less postpartum than I did pre-pregnancy, but for whatever reason I balloon up 20-30 pounds within a few months.

Maybe it's my thyroid. Maybe it was always my thyroid. Who knows. Who cares.

All I know is that it is something I will continue to struggle with for the rest of my life. It sucks. It's hard. I hate it. I hate the way I look. I hate my body.

But for my children's sake, I can't. No matter what I may feel about it, I can't say anything out loud. I am terrified that my negative body image will affect them. How could it not? Fortunately, Rylin doesn't even know the words "fat" and "skinny" yet. I have tried so hard to eliminate them from my everyday speech. I refuse to use them in front of her. I let her eat when she is hungry, and let her stop when she is done. We limit sugar, but don't deny it. She wants to play sports and we're going to let her do so. We're also going to check her thyroid when she's a teenager and hope she doesn't have to face the same battles I do.

She's a tiny little thing and gets comments about how petite she is all the time. It drives me crazy when it's said as a compliment. As if it's something she should always aspire to. I never want her to experience the shame I did. I'm working on how I am going to help her establish a healthy lifestyle which includes a healthy self-image.

I honestly don't remember when I became fat, because I always have been.