Ugh. I Just Don't Have The Words.

Michael Pollan, Marion Nestle, Mark Bittman, Alice Waters, Deborah Madison...ET AL...would be so so so disappointed in me these days.

You know, if they knew me and hung out with me regularly to survey my recent eating and drinking habits. Which I know they don't, won't, and never will. And I know *you* won't tell them, but that doesn't mean I don't feel like I've let them down.

As of the last month...

...we have dined out entirely too much
...we have imbibed entirely too much craft beer
...we have not practiced sensible portion control
...we have not exercised regularly

Consequently, I have let me, you readers, and my role models down (I don't care if they'll never know!). It's obviously time for a refocus, reprioritizing, and reestablishing of goals.

And if it were as easy as that, I'd of course be doing it. But see...it's really not. For example, I have the ingredients for Alice Waters's Winter Minestrone Soup from her The Art of Simple Food...and it really would be very easy to make. True, there's a fair amount of pre-chopping and dicing and such, but I actually enjoy that kind of mise en place. And really, it's probably only an hour from start to finish...

so why, when I came home from an eight-hour day at the cafeteria, did I *not* feel like making this soup? When my daughter and youngest son volunteered to make pancakes and scrambled eggs, why I capitulate so easily?

Because. Because. Because. Because! Pancakes sounded really delicious and amazing, and all I really wanted to do was look a National Geographic magazine and drink a cup of coffee.

So I did that. Then, I ate pancakes and eggs. And talked with my kids. And it was great! Then I went to yoga class and thought about how it's time for another No-Restaurant Month Challenge, not attempted in this house since Fall 2010 (read the post here).

Here's to a good, healthy, happy, refocused weekend!

Comments

(She) Blinded Me With...Citrus

Excuse my attempt at tying today's blog entry with an iconic Thomas Dolby song. What a terrible pun-ishment. Har har har. So, we're on the backside of Winter Vacation/Christmas Break/Holiday Hiatus here. The kids return to school tomorrow, the freshman and I start back to our respective colleges next Monday. The clock is ticking and suddenly, I am whipped into frenzy to Get Work Done. I suspect this phenomenon happens to many, many educators who try to avoid that panic-stricken night before they go back to work. And believe me when I say, I had the deepest, most earnest of intentions to write lesson plans, write quizzes, and generally prepare for the restart of my classes next week. Like, really. And then...I was distracted by...citrus. This happened. Okay, so....the lemons on the far right are no big deal. They're available year-round. But Meyer lemons...MEYER...I only find around here in the winter. I first read about them i...

Girl Friends Are Great!

About a year and a half-ish ago, I stumbled into a parent organization called Choir Boosters. Just about every learning institution in America has one (or several). If there's a sport or activity, there are parents who want to be involved because their kid's in it. My daughter, who was a freshman at the time, joined her high school's choir. Actually, she was asked to join the elite Chamber Choir, and for the first time in my parenting history, I had a child in an organization with a booster club I wanted to join. My oldest son, who is two years older, participates in minimal activities, and not any with booster clubs, so no chances there. Until now... A very pleasant side benefit of doing this "stuff for my kids" is that I've grown close with a few of the other women, so much so that when our big fundraiser was done in December, we wanted to keep getting together. Thus, the Mad Moms (our big fundraiser is called a Madrigal Dinner..."Mad...

In Which I Suspect I Have Latent Tendencies...Much Like The Hulk, Or Similar

I find in most normally functioning families, the members have a distinguishing role or legacy or skill of some kind. Like, he's the smart one. Or, he's the religious one. Or...she's the glue that helps the fam together. Or, she's the savvy one, so she's the Power of Attorney. In my family, that system went something like this: My dad was The Dad. Cantankerous, crotchety, and especially tight with daughters' curfew times. Also, not a fan of driving in Big Cities. My mom was the long-suffering, patient, reserved one. My brother was the baby, the one who got away with murder, the namesake, and also, Frosty Hoarder. Me? My legacy? The Ruiner of Remote Controls. No lie. Although I've repressed the memories, my parents claim I destroyed at least two remotes in my tenure as Child Under The Roof. Remote #1: milk spillage; Remote #2: applesauce spillage. So, now you see why my younger brother was the favorite. Anyway, t...

To Thine Own Self, Be Food

Search This Blog