I Wouldn't Change So Much...

Last chance for Disney on Ice tickets! If you live in the Chicago area, I'm giving away a family four pack to Disney on Ice for Februay 2!

***

So Sunday I was getting a massage (I'll pause here for a moment so you can all be jealous of my ninety minutes with Sofia). I love getting a massage, and it's especially beneficial when I've been spending a lot of time at the gym. Note that I say it's beneficial, not that I enjoy it most.

When I've been spending a lot of time at the gym, my IT Bands tend to get tight. And when they get tight, Sofia finds this and works to loosen them up. And she really works. She finds some way to work out the tension I gather there, but oh does it hurt. It hurts badly enough that my yoga breathing sometimes isn't even enough. It hurts badly enough that I finally had to ask her this time to lighten up on the pressure. It hurts badly enough that two days later, I can still feel where she worked on the IT bands. But when she's done there, I have regained so much motion and flexibility there. I know I need it. But ohhh does it hurt.

This time, I tried a new way of getting through the pain, as my breathing really wasn't cutting it. I thought about how nice it would be to be able to have the luxury of the time and money to get a massage like this on a regular basis so that my IT bands wouldn't be so tight on the occasions I did make it in. I thought about how nice it would be to get just a 30 or 60 minutes massage after every time I went running.

And then I realized that I'd need to win the lottery to do that. And that I'd actually do just fine going once a week. Or maybe twice.

I'd also hire a personal trainer to work with me once a week. I don't need someone all the time. And maybe I'd only work with a trainer heavily for a month or two and then go back on my own. I just need someone to get me over the hump with running again - make me finish that 5K.

But I wouldn't sell my house. I like where I live. I like my neighborhood and my friends and where we are. We don't need a bigger or "better" house. I would remodel our upstairs bathrooms and my kitchen, but that's about it for major improvements.

I wouldn't buy a new car, nor would my husband. He wouldn't quit his job or change what he does; he loves it, and it gives him purpose. I'd quit my job though (but really, you knew that already).

I don't have huge changes that I need to or want to make. I wouldn't go out and buy new clothes or take huge trips everywhere. I wouldn't start eating out all the time, and I'd still cook.

But you know what? I'd eat all organic foods. It would be more than just the berries. The milk, the meat, the fruit, the vegetables - they'd all be organic. I'd eat fish far more often, especially sushi. And I'd be doing the cooking, not hiring someone to do it for me.

I wouldn't go out and buy all new designer clothes or shoes. What I've got works just fine for me, thanks. The same goes for flying out some huge fancy hair artist for haircuts that cost hundreds of dollars. I would like to find someone who can cut my hair so it looks good and teach me how to do my hair so I can avoid more bad hair days than not, but I want to do the daily maintenance myself.

There are a few small treats I'd buy myself -- a good fancy camera, a laptop of my own, and ummm that's all I can think of right now. There isn't a ton that I need.

Even quitting work, I don't see myself as having a ton of free time. I'm already PTO president and could so easily dedicate more time to that. I'd like to get to the gym more often. And I really want to start volunteering at a therapeutic horseback riding center. That plus the normal things that need to happen, and my day is complete once you add in spending time with the wee ones.

And to be honest with you, I think that about sums it up. My day and my life is complete. I don't need to do all sorts of fancy things or have a huge amount of money to be happy or fulfilled. While it would be nice to have some "perks" that I don't now, they're not necessary for me to enjoy life. Winning the lottery wouldn't change my life. And I think that's a good thing.

Because, honestly, I don't think my IT bands could take Sofia too much more often.

Tasty Tuesday!

Last two days -- for anyone in the Chicago area with kids, I'm giving away a family four pack to Disney on Ice for Februay 2!

***

You'll be proud of me. I have pictures this week. Yep, actual honest to goodness pictures. And this has nothing to do with the fact that I made these treasures after the wee ones were in bed and not when I was racing to get food on the table. Nope, not a thing to do with it.

So. I make granola on a regular basis. I love my granola. In fact, I make it often enough that I keep two 32 ounce containers of plain yogurt (about the only way to avoid HFCS unfortunately) in the fridge to pour over my morning treat. Yum.

I've never made granola bars though. The wee ones love them, but for some uknown reason, they've always scared me. Silly, I know. But I decided to throw caution to the wind and make some for the wee ones. I modified my regular granola recipe slightly, and voila! I have granola bars. Tomorrow, I need to get a picture of the wee ones wolfing these treasures down.

Oh, and Jen, if you ask nicely, I'll make you some of these, too.

Homemade Granola Bars
Ingredients:
3 c oats (not the quick cooking kind)
3/4 c coconut, flaked
1 c wheat bran - optional
1 c flax seeds (ground or whole, whichever is fine although I prefer whole) - optional
1 t cinnamon
1/4 t nutmeg, fresh ground
1/4 c olive oil
2/3 c honey (or maybe a little bit more)
1/4 c brown sugar, scant
1 c dried fruits, variety all chopped to be about the same size

Directions:
(This part is totally optional) Place the oatmeal and coconut on an ungreased baking sheet and toast at 300 degees for about 10 minutes. This adds to the flavor but totally isn't necessary if you don't have the time.

Heat a heavy small saucepan over medium heat, and add the oil and honey (hint: if you're using a liquid measuring cup, put the oil in first then the honey atop it, and it helps the honey slide out more easily). Add the brown sugar, and heat until boiling. Stir for another minute, then remove from the heat.



Put the toasted oatmeal and coconut into a large mixing bowl. Add the wheat germ and flax seed (also both optional, but they're yummy and healthy!), as well as the cinnamon and nutmeg. Mix well.

Add the heated honey mixture to a well made in the center of the dry ingredients.



Stir until well mixed. This is much easier and faster than it is when making the regular granola version. Add the dried fruits and stir again. I used raisins, craisins, and cherries for my dried fruits, and they work together very nicely. You can use one kind or many, but more than about a cup total seems to make it too fruity, at least for me.



Place this into a 13x9 greased pan. I also laid a piece of parchment paper on the bottom of the pan to help the granola come out in a single piece more easily. It worked well.

Slightly wet your hands (I figured this one out the hard way) and gently press down onto the mixture to ensure that it is flat and even. I found that I "had" to rearrange some of my fruit, as it seemed to all want to head to the edges and I wanted a more even distribution.



Bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool overnight (or at least until totally and completely room temperature). Use a knife to loosen the sides, and then plop out the giant granola bar. Use a very sharp knife -- or in my case, as serrated knife, as I proved yet again that it's time to get my knives professionally sharpened -- to slice into the shape you desire. I made essentially 16 bars from this, but I probably could have made them a bit smaller or a different shape, and they would have worked out just fine.

And as for those little crumbs left over from the cutting? I just scooped them up into a bowl, and that was my breakfast... along with a little yogurt, of course.



And does anyone know how to remove the fingerprint Mister Man has apparently put on my camera lens? *sigh*

Enjoy recipes like this and more with Blessed With Grace and Tempt My Tummy Tuesday!

My Good Egg

Quick reminder -- anyone in the Chicago area with kids, I'm giving away a family four pack to Disney on Ice for Februay 2!

***

Mister Man had a good week at school this week, thankfully. His school is doing a great job of working with him and coming up with solutons (in addition to what we're doing at home), and they appear to be working. Ironically, my lesson to him that he needs to think about wht he's doing and decide if he'd like it if someone else did it to him is what appears to be sinking in the most -- or so he says.

Because he's had five green days, he earned a Bakugan (love the $1.99 Aldi sales!). Because he (finally) had a full week of straight green days, he earned a trip to go see The Princess and the Frog.

That second reward has been hanging out there for awhile. In fact, it's been since before winter break, if I recall correctly. He had been so despondant and was convinced that he'd never see the movie. Give him a few more weeks, and he wouldn't have seen it -- apparently it's near the end of its run already.

When I saw him for pickup on Friday, he came racing towards me with a huge smile on his face, which I knew was a good sign. Mom! Mom! I had a green day today! My whole week was green! Mom, do I get to go see the movienow?

Yep. Most definitely. I would have canceled any plans I had to ensure that he got to see the movie he earned. Fortuntely, it didn't come anywhere near that.

He requested permission to call Grandpa, and I handed over my phone.

Grandpa! Grandpa! Guess what! I had a green day again today, and I get to go see "The Princess and the Frog" this weekend, and do you want to come with me to see it, too?

Uhhhh, ok. We can add Grandpa. No problem.

When we arrived home, he ran immediately up to Little Miss (who had been home taking a nap and thankfully my husband was able to get home before I had to pick up Mister Man so I didn't have to wake her tired self up). Little Miss! Little Miss! I get to go see "The Princess and the Frog, and you get to come, too!

Ummm, well actually I was sort of planning on definitely not taking her with us, since she's never been to a movie theater before but seems to swallow a jumping bean every ten minutes or so, which just doesn't seem like a good combination. And I wanted her to nap during the time we'd be going. And it was really his special thing.

Before I could open my mouth, however, Mister Man turned to me with his eyes pleading. Mommy, I can invite her to go with me to share my special treat, can't I?

And when he puts it that way, how can I say no?

When my parents arrived yesterday morning to take the wee ones to swimming lessons (it's "their thing"), not surprisingly, Mister Man invited my mom to join us at the movies, as well. Daddy had also been invited in the interim, but he was coaching and unable to make it.

My nice little treat with Mister Man -- a not too expensive $15 or so endeavor -- was suddenly not so little and not so inexpensive. Since when was a 1:05 show a $7.50 per person experience?

But everyone enjoyed it. There was a part where a star was created that made me cry. The wee ones were slightly scared at a few parts. (Really, Disney? It is necessary to be that scary in every G movie?) But the loved it. Little Miss saw her first movie ever, and she was just about completely still -- and quiet -- the entire time (except when she leaned over to ask me if she would be asleep in bed at that time because she was tired). And today? Mister Man has been telling everyone he sees about how he had a green week and how that meant he got to go see a movie and how he got to share his special treat with his whole family (forgetting that Daddy wasn't there, perhaps?).

I'm just hoping that this is motivation for him for next week and the week after. And I have to admit that I'm more than just a little bit proud that Mister Man didn't want to hoard his special moment and that he wanted to share it. He's a good kid.

Oh, Those Things They Say...

Quick reminder -- anyone in the Chicago area with kids, I'm giving away a family four pack to Disney on Ice for Februay 2!

***

The wee ones never cease to amaze me, and I never remember all the "good" things they say and do, although I try. We've had a few doozies the past few days.

When Little Miss was at the kids' area while I was working out the other day, she colored in a picture of the Super Sleuths on their scooter. Apparently her depiction of Pooh in his traditional yellow skin was marred by his blue shirt (instead of red. In her mind, this rendered him unrecognizable -- although Tigger with his orange and black stripes, was just fine. Above him, she wrote in large letters "Phoo." Close, Kiddo, but no cigar.

Little Miss also displayed her independence at the library. She refuses to let me help her select books, insisting that she can find them by herself. She talked nonstop in the car on the way to the library about the Froggy books she was going to select. When we got to the library, she skated right on past the "LON" section (the author's last name is London) and refused to acknowledge my hints. Instead I found her grabbing Berenstain Bears books from the bin, insisting that those were the books she was looking for all along.

Mister Man and I were on our way home tonight, and "The Fall of the House of Usher" came on the radio (yes, I listen to Old Time Radio on XM). He quickly figured out that this was a mystery and asked if I'd ever heard it before. I explained that I hadn't heard a radio version before but that it was a very famous story. His first question upon hearing that? "Mommy, did it win the Caldecott Award?" Uhhh no, but how on earth do you know how to even pronounce that?

We've had odd school schedules for the last week. Little Miss was off last Friday, everyone was off Monday, Mister Man was off Tuesday, school was back in session Wednesday and Thursday, and Little Miss wasoff again today. (Next year, we're so getting both wee ones on the same schedule!) Little Miss was starting to gloat that she didn't have school today to Mister Man who decided he was having none of it. "You may not have school today, but that's only because your school has its institute day on the wrong day. I had mine on Tuesday, and for my day off school, I got to spend the day with Grandpa. You only get to spend the day with Mommy." Well. That's telling her. I think.

At the breakfast table...
Mister Man: Mommy, did you know that Venus and Earth are sister planets?
Me: Umm, yes, I do seem to recall learning that at some point along the way.
Mister Man: Yep, and all the other planets are brother planets.
Ummm. Yeah.

And this morning, Mister Man came into our room early to complain about a noise he'd heard. My husband generously got up (probably because I was pretending to still be asleep) to show Mister Man that it was simply something that had fallen over in his bathroom. Mister Man nodded and went back into his room. A few minutes later, he came back asking what the buzzing noise was. I tiredly pointed towards the bathroom door and mumbled something about Daddy and the fan. And then I very clearly explained that I was still sleeping. So not two minutes later, guess who was back? Mister Man was desperately upset that he couldn't find Morgan Le Fay (one of his stuffed animals), and he couldn't start the play without her. I calmly explained his options of going back to sleep, starting the play without her, or quietly reading in his bed. "But Mommy! Those aren't the options I wanted. Can you rewind and try again?"

And I wonder why at 6:58 I'm seriosly considering shutting off the computer and going upstairs to bed.

Nope, We're Stayin'

Before I forget -- anyone in the Chicago area with kids, I'm giving away a family four pack to Disney on Ice for Februay 2!

***

It's a long story, but last night my husband finally asked me (in exasperation, I believe) if I wanted to sell our house and move to a different part of our school district.

Really, I just looked at him like he was nuts. I am so not selling our house anytime soon. I hate moving. Detest it. Actually, I would be totally cool with it if someone came and packed and unpacked for me, but I'm not spending that kind of money to move, so I'm sticking with the idea that I hate moving. That and I really like our house and our neighbors and our sidewalks and all those important things.

I stated when we bought this house that we were here until we downsized with the wee one out of the nest. Given the job market, this may not happen for another twenty years now, and I'm ok with that. All because I hate packing and unpacking to move.

And I'm pretty good at doing it, too.

I was born not too far from where I live now, and I've even had my dad drive me past that house. Oddly, it doesn't look anything like the few memories I have of it. We moved from there when I was three, which probably explains a lot of that.

We headed to Connecticut then, and I have all sorts of fun memories of that house. The three (no idea, don't ask why we had three) swingsets, the huge forest behind our house, the hills, the gravel driveway, the neighbors, the beach, the Christmas parties at the fire house. But I haven't been there since I was six...

because that's when we moved to Belgium. This is where I first started to get bitter about moving. I had a red plastic Mickey Mouse wallet when we lived in Connecticut. And it had money in it. If my memory isn't playing tricks on me, it had $8 in it. When we left the States, anyway. By the time I saw my wallet in Belgium, it was emptied. *sigh*

When we left Belgium, we came back to Illinois, but only for eight months or so. We were in a condo one floor up from my grandparents, which was pretty cool, but at eight years old, I started to see the problem with moving more clearly. Every time we moved, my mom made me throw out things. Sometimes I had a choice, but more often than not, I didn't.

And when we left Illinois after eight months and moved to Minnesota (still eight here), we had the interesting experience of living in a hotel for a couple months until my parents bought our house. While it was sort of cool to live in a hotel for awhile and have our own pool, it got old quickly. Most kids were in and out of the hotel, so we didn't have many lasting friendships (the exception was Leslie Smith Field who moved into the hotel while we were there and then showed up in my fourth grade classroom three days into the school year and was my best friend until she moved to Washington -- Leslie, if you ever find and read this, send me an email!). And of course, we didn't have most of our stuff.

When we finally moved into our house, I discovered another joy (not) of moving. There are times you have to redecorate. A lot. The bedroom I had in that house had belonged to a boy a few years older than me. The carpet was a chocolate brown (and not a pretty chocolate brown) with a weird dark animal "striped" wallpaper. I actually probably would have been ok with it, but my mom decided that wasn't good for a girl. And so we went looking for new wallpaper and carpeting. And ohhh I hate doing that. By the time my mom and I were able to find a wallpaper that matched a carpet sample that neither of us immediately vetoed, I ended up with light green carpeting and matching wallpaper with delicate white flowers woven into it. Raise your hand if you think this sounds anything like me. *crickets* That bedroom stayed decorated that way with the white wicker furniture until we moved, though.

We stayed in that house until after I graduated high school though. I next moved into a dorm room. And really, that's the way to move. You have one small carload of stuff that you have to unpack in a day. You live there for a year and then repack it all. That kind of moving I could deal with. Unfortunately, I now have no rooms that could fit into a single car, which is a minor problem.

After my junior year, I got an apartment in Evanston that was a tiny litle studio south of campus. And here was my next nasty surprise about moving. Not everyone is as neat and clean as you would hope. We got the keys, prepared to move in, and then spent the next six hours scrubbing every surface. It was N-A-S-T-Y. My poor mom and gram!

Fortunately, I found an apartment after college that wasn't so dirty. Then again, I also paid more for it. And again, I realized that in moving, you have to figure out what's important to you. I had thought that having somewhere to park my car (check) and being near the loop (check) were important. I unfortunately neglected to factor in the noise of living there. And the fact that being two blocks from Rush meant that I got more than my share of 3am buzzers from friends who wanted to crash in my apartment.

My next apartment was much further north in the city, and I remember waking up my first morning in that apartment hearing birds chirping. I loved it. Absolutely loved it. But here's where I learned another key thing about moving: set ground rules with roommates before you move in with them. Let's just say that after a year and a half, my (male) roommate moved to California. And that I was happy to see him go, especially after he scared off on early relationship when he answered the door (while I was in my room getting ready -- completely oblivious) in his bright yellow very tight boxers. And when I called him on it, he didn't see the problem. Yeah... gotta love friends from college who you don't know quite as well as you thought you did. Until suddenly you know them allllll too well.

After that apartment, I bought my very first own place. And while I loved where I lived, I discovered something else I don't like about moving. I had, shall we say, not the most scrupulous real estate agents at the time. I was young and apparently they thought they could try to take advantage of me. I'm still convinced that I paid too much money for my townhouse, but probably not by a significant amount, and I still made them offer less than they'd wanted me to. I think they were most disappointed when I was approved for a $450,000 mortgage (ok, seriously -- why and how, I have no idea; I could never have come close to affording that much of a mortgage, nor is my mortgage anywhere near that amount now!) that I wasn't interested in looking at homes anywhere in that stratosphere. Bye-bye high commission!

My next move was the next connundrum. When we sold the townhouse when I was pregnant with Little Miss (a two bedroom townhouse and two kids under two do not mix), we hadn't yet found our house. So we put our stuff in storage and moved in with my parents for a few weeks. Who could imagine that it would take that long to find a place? Ten months later, we finally moved out. Oh did I learn my lesson there. Next time (ok, so there won't be a next time, but maybe one of you can learn from my mistake) I am renting an apartment.

And that brings me to my house today. The one that my husband suggested we sell. The one that has all sorts of weird quirks to it, like the wood on the side of my cabinets turning pink and the rose and black and white tiles in the maste bath and the lack of insulation in the front coat closet and the lack of lights in the family and living rooms, but it's my house. And I am so not moving.

Until I downsize. And who knows, maybe by then I will have forgotten all the reasons why I hate moving.

How about you? What are your moving horror stories?

Tasty Tuesday!

I have a fun giveaway for Chicago area families -- if you're interested in seeing Disney on Ice, go check out my review blog. A post is going up tonight (I'm off to write it now!).

***

Well, it certainly *is* Tuesday, isn't it? This is late for a Tasty Tuesday post for me, but I have a good excuse: apparently our internet was out last night. It was fine when I was working from home, but by the time I got back from yoga, the internet was kaput. Fortunately(?) today I was working from the office, but that also meant that I didn't have a chance to post anything earlier today either.

Never fear (as if you would anyway)! I have one of my favorite winter recipes this week. Angela had asked me if I had a good chicken pot pie recipe, and ohhh but I do. I realized that I had my chicken stew with biscuits recipe posted but not yet the pot pie. Although the recipes are fairly similar, there are truly different dishes.

Chicken Pot Pie

Pie Dough (one double crust pie)
Ingredients:
2 c flour
1 1/2 T sugar
3/4 c unsalted butter, chilled
1/4 c shortening, chilled
1/3 c cold water
pinch salt

Directions:
Put flour, sugar, and salt in the bowl of a food processor. Cut the butter and shortening into small pieces and add to the food processor. Pulse mixture until crumbly and butter is in small pieces throughout the flour.

Working quickly, start the processor and add cold water until the mixture just forms a ball. Note that I RARELY use all the 1/3 c of water... only when it is very, very dry in my house and has been for a long time.

Turn out the dough onto a work surface and flatten into two disks. Wrap each disk in plastic wrap and refrigerate two hours.

Chicken Filling:
Ingredients:
4 chicken breasts
1/3 c flour
3 T unsalted butter
1/3 c milk
1 carrot, medium dice
2 stalks celery, medium dice
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 bay leaves
3 c chicken stock (low sodium)
2 T parsley, chopped (tarragon and sage also make great additions)
2 c frozen peas (or fresh ones, but really... it's winter)
salt and pepper to taste

Directions:
Poach chicken, then shred to bite sized pieces.

Heat heavy soup pot over medium heat and add 3 T butter. Add carrot and celery and saute until softened (4-5 minutes). Add garlic and cook 1 minute longer. Stir in 1/3 c flour to make roux, cooking 2 more minutes.

Pour in chicken stock and bring to a boil, then simmer 20 minutes until sauce is like a thick soup. Add 1/3 c milk and the poached chicken pieces. Season to taste with salt and pepper and add parsley. Add the frozen peas, and stir.

While sauce is thickening, make get the pie dough out of the fridge. Roll out the first pie dough into a 10 inch cirle about 1/8 inch thick. Place into a 9 inch pie dish.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Roll out the second pie disk into the same size circle. Using a knife or (my preference) a pizza cutter, cut the circle into 1 inch strips.

Spoon the chicken mixture atop the pie dough in the pie plate. Carefully pick up the smallest strip, and start making a lattice from one edge of the pie. Or be lazy like I am when they start breaking and just make any old fun pattern.

Place the pot pie on a cookie pan lined with a sil pat (yes, it sometimes gets messy). Bake uncovered for 50-60 minutes until the insides are bubbling and the crust is nice and golden. If the crust starts to get too browned, use some tin foil to cover the edges of it.

Mmmmm, yum. And umm yeah. I forgot to take a picture of this. To be honest, it was eighty percent gone when I thought about it, and it wasn't the most appetizing looking at that point. Sorry!

For recipes this yummy and more, visit Tempt My Tummy Tuesday with Blessed With Grace.

Take It Away!

Super powers are cool. Super heroes are cool, too, but really it's their powers that make them cool. Thinking about super powers, there are so many that I'd love to have.

First on the list has to be the power to control time. I'd finally be caught up on my to do list. I could go back and fix all those little oopses that happen on a daily basis. I could stop some really bad things from happening? How perfect would that be?

I'd also love the ability to be invisible. Those times I need to sneak into or out of somewhere and don't want to disturb anyone? Done. Some of those conversations that I'd soooo love to hear so that I better knew what was going on (especially with my wee ones!), I could finally be that proverbial fly on the wall. And just think of the April Fools jokes you could play while invisible....

Flying would also be on my list of super powers I want. It would be more fun than truly useful -- with the exception of reducing commuting times significantly. I love the sensation of falling, and I'd be able to indulge in it regularly with this special talent. And swooping down to save people would be pretty awesome, I think.

But super hearing? It is no fun. Apparently I've recently developed this power, and it's driving me batty.

When I'm sitting in the quiet of my house -- when it's truly quiet and no children are scurrying around -- I'll use the flipper to fast forward something on the DVR. And as I hit the button, I hear a high pitched "bee-bee-beep." I push the button again, and that same high frequency assails my ears. On the plus side, I've been watching a lot less tv lately. Fortunately, the sounds of either the dishwasher or the washing machine are loud enough to overcome it.

And at night, I lay my head down on my pillow and relax to sleep. And that lovely mattress warmer that I have, which I love so dearly, now keeps me from entering that blissful slumber. I've learned that the mattress warmer cycles on and off in its warming. I know this because I can now hear a very quiet humming of the electricity as it pushes heat into the wires.

My husband swears I'm nuts. He doesn't hear it, and he thinks I'm making it up. But no, I'm not. And I've decided that this is one super power that I would prefer to do without.

So what are your favorite (and least favorite) super powers?