I am back to blogging! Hopefully I still have readers. My absence was due to a touch of creative fatigue and a project. A PAID project. While I love writing H&H it doesn’t necessarily keep me in my Tom Fords. So when work beckons I must go forth and bring home the bacon…bits. Thank you all for your patience. I will be kicking off my return with a bang. Literally. During my sabbatical I went through 4 weeks of intense acupuncture treatments. Partly to regulate my monthly cycles but mostly because I had 20 sessions completely covered by insurance that I had to burn up before January 1st. While aligning my Qi (chi) and clearing blocks my practitioner inadvertently or perhaps advertently released my inner horn dog. My libido was on complete overdrive. This led to a rather inappropriate amount of sex dreams. But I had to keep this new development to myself. Why? Well, mainly because not one included my husband. Some were of blurred men, one or two acquaintances, and of course a smattering of hot celebrities. I had become a dream slut. While I don’t think having sex dreams about men other than your husband is unique I did have a unique situation on my hands. In the 13 years of our relationship my husband claims every sex dream he has ever had features only me. I have tried to call him out on this multiple times but he has held firm for THIRTEEN years. It’s only me. Front and center. Every time. At first I felt pretty guilty about my nightly dalliances. But upon further reflection I realized that although he may not be the star of the show he was the only person actually benefiting from the performance. Then I just felt hoodwinked. Am I really to believe he only thinks of me even while dreaming? It sounds sweet but it is also complete bullshit. To prove me right and I know I am right, let’s put the question to you…
I am a HUGE believer that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It jump starts your metabolism, increases your energy level, stabilizes your mood and heightens your ability to concentrate. That being said, you don’t need to wheel yourself over to the Cracker Barrel and shovel in the hash brown casserole to get the benefits of a morning meal. Keep it healthy and nutritionally balanced. Here are 3 of my family favorites…
Banana & Almond Butter Toast
The ‘I don’t have time for breakfast’ excuse cannot be used for this quick recipe. I think even a monkey could slap this one together in under 3 minutes.
1. Spread almond butter on toast.
2. Top with banana slices.
3. Drizzle lightly with honey and add blueberries (optional)
4. Sprinkle of flax seed (optional)
1/2 teaspoon capers, rinsed and chopped (optional)
1 ounce smoked salmon
1 slice tomato
1 whole-wheat English muffin or toast
Heat oil in a small nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add onion and cook, stirring, until it begins to soften, about 1 minute. Add egg whites, salt and capers (if using) and cook, stirring constantly, until whites are set, about 30 seconds.
To make the sandwich, layer the egg whites, smoked salmon and tomato on English muffin.
Per serving: 214 calories; 5 g fat (1 g sat, 2 g mono); 7 mg cholesterol; 25 g carbohydrates; 19 g protein; 3 g fiber; 670 mg sodium; 221 mg potassium.
Blueberry Banana Smoothie
Serves 2 – My kids love this smoothie any time of the day. I love the fact that I can sneak in flax seeds!
Adding ground flax offers a healthful boost of omega 3s, fiber and protein.
1 fresh or frozen banana, peeled and cut into 2-inch chunks
1 cup frozen or fresh blueberries
6 ounces plain nonfat yogurt
3/4 cup unsweetened soy milk, rice milk or almond milk (more or less to taste)
1 tablespoon ground flax seeds
1 teaspoon agave nectar, or to taste
1/2 cup ice cubes (optional)
Put all ingredients into a blender and purée until smooth. Pour into glasses, top with muesli and serve.
Nutrition: Per serving (about 13oz) 200 calories (40 from fat), 4.5g total fat, 0g saturated fat, 0mg cholesterol, 55mg sodium, 36g total carbohydrate (6g dietary fiber, 23g sugar), 10g protein
For the longest time, I gave the banana the cold shoulder. I walked by them without at a glance at the grocery store and I turned up my nose at all things remotely banana flavored. But after having the kidlets, I was re-introduced to what just may be the ultimate fruit. Here’s why:
Cheer Up: Bananas contain tryptophan that the body converts into serotonin. Bananas can make you relax, feel happier and improve your mood. Bananas are also high in calming B vitamins.
Morning Sickness: Snack on bananas between meals and keep your blood sugar even, preventing morning sickness.
Better Blood Pressure: High in potassium and yet low in salt, this is the perfect blood pressure food.
Get Over a Hangover: Make a banana milkshake with honey and milk. The banana calms the stomach and builds up blood sugar levels with the help of the honey…the milk soothes and rehydrates.
Soothe Stress: Our potassium levels plummet when we are stressed. Potassium is a vital mineral, which helps normalize the heartbeat, sends oxygen to the brain and regulates your body’s water balance. Bananas are high in potassium!
Ulcers: Soft and soothing, bananas are the only raw fruit that reduces the acids of ulcers and coats the stomach lining.
Natural Laxative: High in fiber, bananas can get things moving without the use of chemicals.
If you haven’t already, integrate bananas back into your diet. I’ll have some tasty, kid-friendly banana inspired recipes posted soon!
If I believed the daily catalogues in my mailbox from Target, American Girl and One Step Ahead, I’d think that delivering a magical Christmas morning to my children simply involves spending a shit-ton of cash. I would get caught up in every Parents magazine toy recommendation and run out and buy all the award-winning crap in my kids’ age groups that will barely squeeze into my house.
But I would never be seduced by shiny and soul-less mass consumerism, right?
Well.
My daughters are first-grandkids-on-all-sides-kids which means gifts accompany almost all grandma visits. And then there’s birthday loot. And trip souvenirs. And potty-training bribe toys. And holiday tutus. So I begin Christmas shopping every October with the best of intentions, shopping with strict rules to avoid raising bratty material girls.
My main rule every Christmas is that each child receives four-ish gifts from us/Santa and small stocking stuffers. This is the ideal size; enough for a little kid to get jazzed about, but not enough to set the bar too high for future Christmas morning let downs.
But this year, my three year old slapped me with the spirit. She’s been so Christmas frenzied I let my guard down and overindulged in the retailyness of it all, riding her innocent Winter Wonderment. It took me a few weeks to realize I went too far. My UPS man stops by every day now and as I knife open each package I can hardly remember what the eff I ordered on sale from zulily.com five weeks ago and for whom. This mounting cardboard excess is giving me bad chi. No kid needs this much shit.*
I was a child surrounded by beautiful stuff and things but was missing other important needs. In an effort to give my girls the idyllic childhood my Super Mom self envisions in my head, I occasionally cave to the tempting fallacy that Stuff Is Love. Even though their world is happy as is- safe, loving, full, I sometimes think that matching purple suede slouchy shooties could only make their lives better, right? You see how this goes in my brain…
Those of us with shopaholic tendencies though need to have a sobering retail question we ask ourselves before we mindlessly hand over the credit card to check out. I always ask myself “Do they really need this, and is it going to make their childhood better?” Inevitably, the answer is no and then I think of a simple and cheap activity that might. My three year old was so enthralled by decorating the tree this week she bounced all over the house, begging to hang every last homespun ornament, many I made in Brownies. We played carols and baked and her Daddy held her up on his shoulders to place the angel on the “tippy top”. These are the moments that make a childhood and are not brought to you by Target.
Since the deed hadn’t been done yet, I knew what I had to do. This Santa had to reel herself back in. Way back.
Now for the fun task of sending some back, storing some for their upcoming birthdays, and re-gifting a few others. Though I had a momentary retail binge and judgment lapse, I have to remind myself that the best things I can give my kids aren’t plastic talking Vtech toys after all. When we listen closely to our children’s joy, it reveals the same exact thing.
* If you are interested in the nitty-gritty numbers, I actually didn’t go that insano as much as I bought a stupid-silly amount of cheap small items. Zulily loot really is well-priced and an addictive shopping phenomena. If you didn’t know about it until right now, do not go on the site. Ever.
I am back to blogging! Hopefully I still have readers. My absence was due to a touch of creative fatigue and a project. A PAID project. While I love writing H&H it doesn’t necessarily keep me in my Tom Fords. So when work beckons I must go forth and bring home the bacon…bits. Thank you all for your patience. I will be kicking off my return with a bang. Literally. During my sabbatical I went through 4 weeks of intense acupuncture treatments. Partly to regulate my monthly cycles but mostly because I had 20 sessions completely covered by insurance that I had to burn up before January 1st. While aligning my Qi (chi) and clearing blocks my practitioner inadvertently or perhaps advertently released my inner horn dog. My libido was on complete overdrive. This led to a rather inappropriate amount of sex dreams. But I had to keep this new development to myself. Why? Well, mainly because not one included my husband. Some were of blurred men, one or two acquaintances, and of course a smattering of hot celebrities. I had become a dream slut. While I don’t think having sex dreams about men other than your husband is unique I did have a unique situation on my hands. In the 13 years of our relationship my husband claims every sex dream he has ever had features only me. I have tried to call him out on this multiple times but he has held firm for THIRTEEN years. It’s only me. Front and center. Every time. At first I felt pretty guilty about my nightly dalliances. But upon further reflection I realized that although he may not be the star of the show he was the only person actually benefiting from the performance. Then I just felt hoodwinked. Am I really to believe he only thinks of me even while dreaming? It sounds sweet but it is also complete bullshit. To prove me right and I know I am right, let’s put the question to you…
