And here we go, starting another 30-day challenge, this time in conjunction with Lent (I’m not Catholic, but I like the ritual of this commitment). This time around, no sodas or ice cream. Sonic Happy Hour has been a huge burden on my hips and wallet, those $1.08 44-oz cherry Dr. Peppers really add up! And so does that $4 carton of ice cream I require from the grocery store each week.

I actually don’t think this will be that difficult…until 2pm today when Happy Hour starts and I need to get out of the house for a caffeine fix.

Unlike my other SAHM challenges (cleaning, mostly), I actually enjoy this one, and look forward to Saturdays when I sit down with a pile of cookbooks, my trusty recipe binder, a pad of paper and a pencil, and start planning meals. Lately we’ve had a lot of successes, and when my picky eaters not only *eat* the meal but go back for seconds, well, I just can’t tell you how happy that makes me.

Here are a few of the meals that have made the repeat list:

* CARIBBEAN BLACK BEANS WITH MANGO SALSA & BROWN RICE * (adapted from Moosewood Family Cookbook) – saute 2 cloves of garlic, half an onion (diced), and season with allspice, ginger, and cumin. Add two cans of drained (but not rinsed) black beans and about 1/3 cup orange juice. Simmer in a pan until beans get thick, about 10-15 minutes. I buy the salsa from Sam’s Club, and serve with brown rice and tortilla chips, and for those who aren’t lactose intolerant, I add shredded cheese on top. A side note – I *hate* beans. But I really enjoy this dish.

* ROASTED VEGETABLES* Every Monday night I make two pans of roasted vegetables. Usually broccoli, carrots, asparagus, and corn. Since I last posted, I’ve also done portabello mushrooms in a balsamic vinegar mix, and kale, which turns into an almost potato-chip-like texture. Soooo. Good. I’ve also started mixing honey, ginger, and salt to the carrots before roasting.

* VEGETABLE SOUP* In a stock pot, saute about 3 carrots sliced, 3 stalks of celery sliced, and garlic in olive oil. When they’re soft, add 2 cans of V8, a can of broth, and about 1/4 cup of barley. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Heat until ready to serve. About 10 minutes before serving, add frozen corn and spinach. Serve with crusty bread and shredded cheese. This makes a lot, and is good for leftovers.

* WHEATBERRY SALAD * (adapted from The Family Dinner cookbook by Laurie David) In a large pot, bring 2 cups of wheat berries and 6 cups of water to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook about 45 minutes to an hour. Drain and rinse. Combine the juice of 2 oranges, 1 lemon, and about 1/4 cup oil. Add to berries, along with 1/2 cup chopped pecans or walnuts. Just before serving, throw in thawed edamame, dried cranberries, and chopped apple. I also add feta cheese to mine. This makes about 6 bowls worth, and lasts all week in the refrigerator, so it’s perfect for lunches.

* ORANGE TRUFFLE MOCHAS* Yeah, this one is solely for me and any of my coffee-loving guests. I made a simple syrup of 1 cup sugar, 1 cup water, and 1 T orange extract. Heat in a saucepan until sugar is melted, then pour into a jar with a tight-fitting lid. They say this doesn’t last very long before it spoils, but I’ve had it for a couple weeks now and it’s still fine. In a big mug, fill halfway with milk and about 2-3 T of the syrup, and heat in the microwave for about 1 minute. Add espresso or very strong drip coffee. Top with whipped cream, if so inclined. I save half the pot of coffee for iced versions later in the day. A perfect 3pm pick-me-up, and it tastes just as good as a coffee shop’s!

We also had success with roast beef sandwiches, which I’d like to try again. Not so much with a made-from-scratch tomato soup. Oh well. Can’t win them all. Anything you’ve been making lately that you want to share? I’m always up for new ideas!

Image and interview at npr.org

One of my favorite book genres is/was post-apocalyptic fiction, but ever since reading The Road, I just can’t bring myself to do it anymore. Mainly because The Road was soooooo good, it set the bar for all other end-of-the-world reads, but also because now that I’m a parent, I don’t want to imagine a world where my children either aren’t in it, I’m not in it, or my family is suffering.

So why did I decide to pick up The Leftovers by Tom Perrotta? Probably because of the author’s interview on Fresh Air (click the link above to listen). The novel isn’t really post-apocalyptic fiction, though, but post-Rapture fiction. The premise sounded intriguing, about a small town dealing with the sudden departure of 80 of their residents. In the aftermath of what some believe is The Rapture, religious fanatics emerge and cults form. The book follows a mayor whose wife and son are both swept away by extreme religious beliefs that they didn’t have prior to the event.

Perrotta also wrote Little Children and Election, so his style and humor is very dark, which I enjoy.

I’m only a couple chapters in, and it’s a library rental, so if I finish it before its due date, that will be a miracle.

But now! Five months have passed since MJ was born, and it has FLOWN by. I hate it, yet I love it. It’s just one of the many occurrences where my brain has no idea what it wants in regard to motherhood.

I have such weird mixed emotions about EVERYTHING right now. I am desperate for a full night’s sleep. The longest stretch I’ve had in over seven months has been four hours, and that happened once. ONE TIME. Most nights, I get about two hour stretches before having to nurse or tend to a crabby 2-year old who discovered he can get out of his toddler bed. The lack of sleep is a huge contributor to my post-partum depression (the other contributor being that MJ is a bottle snob). Yet last night, after we discovered that a pacifier substituted the 11pm feeding, I was both elated and dismayed.

“I can’t believe it. Soon she’s never going to nurse again. I think I might miss these late-night feedings.”

If you haven’t talked to me in the past month, you probably aren’t rolling your eyes. But if you have, you can understand why this is the most ridiculous statement ever. I. Am. Exhausted. I am sore. I am dehydrated. I am literally drained. Nursing this time around hasn’t been a burden, necessarily, but because she’s not taking a bottle, it’s been a HUGE commitment, and as soon as my baby turns one year old, I will have no problem weaning her cold turkey.

Yet, I’m also very sad at the thought of that…no, wait…am I? I don’t know. I’ll have another baby to nurse one day. What! No way, I won’t! Really? MJ’s my last? That’s so sad, I want more!. No, I want sleep! Bahhhhh!

Motherhood. It turns sane people into crazy loons. Crazy loons with adorable kids, though, amIright?

We got up and did the dance moves (bounce…bounce…now raise the roof, and clap your hands. Now step, clap, step clap…bounce…). And wouldn’t you know it, I was winded. WINDED. From a few simple dance beats.

So if this chubby kid can hip hop, certainly *I* can put together a few simple moves and call it exercise.

No. No I can’t. I tried it today, and I’ll try it tomorrow, and the next day, and so forth, but I’m not holding my breath that practice makes perfect. For me, rhythm and grace just don’t flow through my veins. I found some dance exercise programs on Netflix*, and spent 15 of a 36-minute routine trying to figure out how to even swing my hips and kick my feet at the same time. Defeated, I stopped the program 10 minutes short. But I’m happy to say, a few hours later, my legs were a bit sore and my arms a bit jello-y from all the big fancy moves I did. Huzzah!

Here we go. I’ll be eager to see if I improve any, or I’ll still be a fumbling fool in the basement, sweating to the oldies.

*As I was searching for exercise programs on Netflix, I came across Hot Yoga. Awesome, I thought. I added it to my queue. Then I realized, wait, how can it be hot yoga? The moves are the same, it’s the room that’s hot…so I clicked on it. Hoo boy. Apparently, when they mean Hot Yoga, they mean Hot Men Doing Yoga. They really have different standards on what I think HOT is.

But at least once a month I immensely regret a food-related decision. Typically it involves a glutton fest of dairy (pizza and ice cream are a deadly combination). But last night I ate nearly a POUND of steak. ONE POUND. Of steak. Even before it came off the grill I knew putting the whole cut on my plate was a bad decision. “Oh, I’ll save the rest of it and make a burrito tomorrow.” Hahahaha.

Excuse me while I go throw up.

{image via Goodreads}

Body image issues and shopping aside, she said things that were 100% me: listening to Graceland makes her cry. Me too! She’s never had a one-night-stand but loves hearing about her friends? Hey! I do that! And her childhood and teen years were beyond awkward. I would not let her down with stories of the lists that *I* keep in *my* wallet (she carried around her favorite comedic moments…I carried around books and movie information). So how does one contact a celebrity to try and befriend them? Hmm.

The book itself started out strong, and I loved reading about how she got her start in Hollywood. The last third was a little weak, but I still had fun and laughed out loud multiple times. It was a quick read, I think I read it in three sittings, about 30 minutes per setting. I bet the audio version would be fun to hear her take on it.

It’s fun starting the year off with a quick read. I think I’m hooked: I’m reading memoirs ALL YEAR LONG. Rob Lowe? Marilyn Monroe? Portia DeRossi? Sounds good to me.

So I’ve been browsing websites and clothing stores, trying to figure out what “look” I want to go for. I still have a post-pregnancy body, even though I’ve lost all my baby weight from Baby #2. I also don’t want to kid myself. I rarely leave the house. So I don’t need to be buying Zooey-Deschanel-esque dresses for just every day.

Oh, but if I could. I’d buy most dresses from ShabbyApple.com:

L’Opera

Tulleries

Oh La La

For his birthday he got a large talking Woody doll. The details are impressive, the toy itself is really nice. His Nana got it for him. This is an important detail, because the rest of this post is about to get extremely immature and inappropriate.

This doll has made me giggle like a 6th grader. Here are some of the wonderful phrases we have said in regards to this doll:

• He loves the Big Woody that Nana gave him.
• That Woody is really impressive.
• Where’s J’s Big Woody? I can only find his small one.
• Oh my gosh, that Big Woody scared me!
• Geesh, if J’s not careful, he’s going to break that Big Woody.

I’m awful, right? It’s awful. I apologize.

But I’m also giggling.